The 6th Target

"What happened, Joe?"

"He stayed home. We left, one by one. My parents got by on less, and they were happier for it. They're still happy now. And I saw that and I promised myself I would never do to my family what my dad had done to us by being away.

"And then I looked at your face when I showed up last time and told you that I had a plane to catch. And everything you've been saying finally got to me.

"I saw that without meaning to, I'd done just what my dad had done. And so, Lindsay, this is the news I wanted to tell you. I'm home for good."

Chapter 128

I HELD JOE'S HAND as he told me that he'd relocated to San Francisco. I was listening, and I was watching Joe's face – full of love for me. But the wheels in my mind were spi

Joe and I had talked about what it would be like to be in the same place at the same time, and I'd broken up with him because it seemed we'd fallen into a way of talking more than forming a plan to make that talk come true.

Now, sitting so close to this man, I wondered if the problem had really been Joe's job or if we had conspired together to keep a safe distance from a relationship that had all the potential to be lasting and real.

Joe picked up his coffee spoon and put it in his handkerchief pocket – I'm pretty sure he thought that the spoon was his pair of reading glasses.

Then he fumbled in his jacket pocket and took out a jeweler's box, black velvet, about two inches on all sides.

"Something I want you to have, Lindsay."

He put aside the vase of sweetheart roses that was between us on the table and handed the box to me.

"Open it. Please."

"I don't think I can," I said.

"Just lift up the lid. There's a hinge at the back."

I laughed at his joke, but I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing as I did what he said. Inside, nestled on velvet, was a platinum ring with three large diamonds and a small one on each side sparkling up at me.

I finally sucked in my breath. I had to. The ring was a "gasper." And then I looked across the table into Joe's eyes. It was almost like gazing into my own, that's how well I knew him.

"I love you, Lindsay. Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"

The waiter came by and, without saying a word, sailed off. I closed the box. It made a dull little click, and I could swear that the light in the room dimmed.

I swallowed hard, because I didn't know what to say. The wheels inside my head were still spi

Joe and I had both been married.

And we'd both been divorced.

Was I ready to take a chance again?

"Linds?"

I finally choked out, "I love you, too, Joe, and I'm… I'm overwhelmed." My voice cracked as I struggled to speak.

"I need some time to do some deep thinking of my own. I need to be absolutely sure. Will you hold on to this, please?" I said, pushing the small box back across the table.

"Let's see how we do for a while. Just doing normal things," I said to Joe. "The laundry. The movies. Weekends that don't end with you getting into a car and heading to the airport."

Disappointment was written all over Joe's face, and it hurt me terribly to see it. He seemed lost for a moment, then turned my hand over, put the box in my palm, and closed my fingers around it.

"You keep this, Lindsay. I'm not changing my mind. I'm committed to you no matter how much laundry we have to do. No matter how many times we wash the car and take out the garbage and even fight about whose turn it is to do whatever. I'm really looking forward to all of that." He gri

Unbelievable how the room brightened again.

Joe was smiling, holding both my hands in his. He said, "When you're ready, let me know so I can put this ring on your finger. And tell my folks that we're going to have a big Italian wedding."

Chapter 129

IT WAS JUNE 6 when Jacobi called me and Rich into his office. He looked really pissed off, as bad as I'd ever seen him.

"I got some bad news. Alfred Brinkley escaped," he said.

My jaw dropped.

Nobody got out of Atascadero. It was a mental institution for the criminally insane, and that meant it was a maximum-security prison more than a hospital.

"How'd it happen?" Conklin asked.

"Bashed his head against the wall of his cell…"

"Wasn't he medicated? And under a suicide watch?"

Jacobi shrugged. "Du

"Oh, no," I said, seeing it happen without being told. "The guard had a gun."

Jacobi explained to Conklin, "The guards wear their guns only when moving prisoners from one wing to another. So the doc says Brinkley has to be unshackled so he can give him the neuro test."

Jacobi went on to say that Brinkley had grabbed a scalpel, disarmed the guard, snatched the gun. That he'd put on the doctor's clothes, used the guard's keys to get out, and took the doctor's car.

"It happened two hours ago," said Jacobi. "There's an APB out on Dr. Carter's blue Subaru Outback. L.L.Bean edition."

"Probably dumped the car by now," Conklin said.

"Yeah," said Jacobi. "I don't know what this is worth," he added, "but according to the warden, Brinkley was all cranked up about this serial killer he read about, Edmund Kemper."

Conklin nodded. "Killed about six young women, lived with his mother."

"That's the guy," said Jacobi. "One night he comes home from a date, and his mother says something like, 'Now I suppose you're going to bore me with what you've been doing all night.' "

"His mother knew about the killings?" I asked.

"No, Boxer, she did not," Jacobi said. "She was just a ballbreaker. Look, I was on the way to the can when the call came in, so may I finish the story, please?"

I gri

"So anyway, Mother Kemper says, 'You're going to bore me, right?' So Edmund Kemper waits until she goes to bed and then cuts off her head and puts it on the fireplace mantel. And then he tells his mother's head all about his night out. The long version, I'm sure."

"That psycho turned himself in, I seem to remember," Conklin said. He cracked his knuckles, which is what Rich does when he's agitated.

I was rattled, too, at the idea of Brinkley at large, armed and seriously psychotic. I remembered the look on Brinkley's face when he'd stared Yuki down after his trial. He'd leered at her and said, "Someone's got to pay."

"Yeah, Kemper turned himself in. Thing is, when he confessed to the cops, he said that he'd actually killed those girls instead of his mother. Get it?" Jacobi was talking to me now. "He'd finally killed the right person."

"And the warden said that Kemper meant something to Alfred Brinkley?"

"Right," Jacobi said, standing, hoisting up his pants by the belt, making his way around Conklin's long legs toward the door. "Brinkley was obsessed with Edmund Kemper."