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"You too, Gabe."
O'Neil stretched. He glanced down at a pink phone message slip, a call he'd returned earlier that day.
Anne called.
He thought about his ex. Then about Maggie's recital, soon to get under way. He was sorry to be absent. He hoped the girl wouldn't be disappointed.
Jon will be there...
Though her boyfriend's presence wasn't the reason he couldn't attend. Not at all. He did have plans this evening. Just curious that Dance would mention Boling. O'Neil assumed that he'd be in attendance.
Jon will be there...
Enough. Let it go...
Back to work.
The preliminary crime scene report from the hospital was open on his desk and Michael O'Neil was reading through it. Eighty percent of a cop's job is paper or bytes.
He took notes from the new report, then opened some of the earlier ones to compare data: from the Solitude Creek incident, the Bay View Center and Orange County too.
...footprint seventeen inches from driver door of suspect's vehicle revealed one partial three-quarter-inch front tread mark, not identifiable...
Reading, reading, reading.
And thinking: There probably was a time when it might've worked between us, Kathryn and me. But that's over. Circumstances have changed.
Wait. No. That wasn't right.
There'd been a time when it would have worked out. Not might.
r /> But he was accurate when he said circumstances had changed. So what would have been--and what would have been good, really good--wasn't going to happen now.
Circumstances. Changed.
That was life. Look at Anne, his ex. She'd definitely changed. He'd been surprised, nearly shocked, to get that phone call from her last week. She sounded like she was the person he remembered from when they met, years ago. She'd been reasonable and funny and generous.
He then reminded himself sternly he was not supposed to be thinking about Kathryn Dance anymore.
Get. Back. To. It.
...accelerant was diethyl ether, approximately 600 ml, ignited by a Diamond Strike Anywhere match, recovered from the site of the burn. Not traceable. Generic...
Kathryn was with Jon Boling.
And so O'Neil would go in a different direction too.
Best for everybody. For his children, for Dance, for Boling. He was convinced this was the right thing to do.
...Statement by witness 43 at Bay View Center crime scene, James Kellogg: "I was, what it was I was standing near the street, the one that goes through Cannery Row. I'm not from here, so I don't remember what it was. And I'm like what's all this, all the police stuff going on? Was it terrorists? I'd heard shots or firecrackers earlier, like five minutes earlier but I didn't know. I didn't see anything--I looked around--but I didn't see anything weird, you know. I mean, I did. But I thought it was a crime, not like the attack at the club.
"Anyway, this guy, he was tall, over six feet, wearing shorts, sunglasses and a hat--I think he was blond though, you could see that. He was looking around and he went to a car, this SUV and looked in and opened the door. And I could see he was looking through a woman's purse. I thought he was going to steal something. But he just put it back. So he wasn't a thief."
"What kind of SUV was it?"
"Oh, it was a Nissan Pathfinder. Gray. And I think the reason he didn't steal anything was that it had to be a police car. It had flashing blue lights on the dashboard."
O'Neil froze. He scooted back in his chair. No! Oh, hell. The unsub had been through Dance's car. He'd gotten her ID, knew where she lived. Had followed her. And had seen her and Jon Boling together. That's how he'd known to target Boling, tamper with his bike. And--
