At Rope's End (A Dr. James Verraday Mystery #1)

“Word is he’s being bumped off homicide. They’re going to do a Robson with him, bury him someplace in the department where he can’t cause any trouble. Some minor administration role. I would have preferred that he’d been kicked off the force, but that’s not going to happen. Not yet anyway.”


“Well, it’s a start. Maybe there’s karma after all. So does your mom know that you busted a serial killer?”

“I sent her a quick e-mail to tell her we’d cracked a big case. I’m going to see her tomorrow after the press conference. I’ll give her the details then.”

“She’ll be proud of you.”

Maclean laughed, almost shyly. “Oh, yeah. Everybody on her floor at the hospital will hear about it. That’s my mom.”

“You two are close.”

“Yeah. I see her at least once a week. She’s one of my best friends. How about you and your dad?”

“I don’t see him that often,” said Verraday. “It’s hard to explain, but he keeps a distance between himself and everybody else. I mean, we love each other, though he’s not the type to say so. He’s old school, you know? He was never the same after my mom was killed. I mean, he kept it all together. Made sure that Penny got physio and that we both went to school and had lunches and clothes and everything. But he became withdrawn. Spent most of his evenings drinking down in the man cave. Still does.”

Maclean nodded.

“He must have loved your mother a lot though, for it to have affected him so much.”

“He never talks about it, but yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“How about you and your sister?”

“We’re close. Though she does the ‘big sister’ routine with me a bit, you know? But she means well, and she’s smart as hell. Got her own place. Plays wheelchair basketball. Won a regional archery championship last year.”

“She sounds interesting. I’d like to meet her some time.”

“You’d like her. You have any siblings?”

“No,” replied Maclean. “Maybe that’s why my mom and I are so close.”

“She must be a strong person to have held it all together like that after your father died,” said Verraday.

“Yeah, she is. My mom is amazing. There’s nothing I can’t talk about with her.”

“You’re lucky.”

Maclean took a sip of her drink then looked up at him thoughtfully. “Thank god we still have who we have,” she said.

“Yeah,” agreed Verraday quietly.

Maclean raised her glass. “Here’s to the ones taken from us too soon.”

Verraday raised his glass and thought about what Maclean had said. “And here’s to the ones who carried the extra burden and kept the lights on,” he added.

Verraday and Maclean clinked glasses and took a sip of their drinks. Verraday resolved to call his father the next day and find an excuse to get together.

Maclean was gazing into the fireplace. He watched her silently, not wanting to disturb the moment. He enjoyed seeing the firelight playing across her cheeks and the tiny constellations of light reflecting in her eyes, eyes that somehow seemed to be both faraway yet fully present.

At last, Maclean looked away from the fire and turned to Verraday. “In all the excitement, I forgot to ask. Did you tell your dad about Robson?”

“Not yet. Kind of trying to figure out how. Penny and I are still strategizing.”

“How did she handle it when you told her?”

“It was . . . interesting.”

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?”

“We visited Robson’s gravesite up in Everett.”

“Holy shit, that’s not something you hear of victims doing very often. Let me guess. Penny’s idea?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to at first, but she talked me into it.”

“What was it like?”

“Actually, it was kind of cathartic. We both pissed on his grave.”

Maclean burst out laughing, covered her mouth with her hand, not quite quickly enough to stop a line of vodka and soda from dribbling out.

“Hey, not fair to tell me something that funny just when I’m taking a sip!” she said, wiping away the rivulet. “Don’t you know that’s illegal?”

“What, making a cop laugh when they’re drinking?”

“You know what I mean,” said Maclean.

“Well, I didn’t want to lie to you about it,” Verraday replied. Then he leaned forward. “Hold still. You missed a spot on your chin.”

Maclean held her face motionless while Verraday reached over with his index finger and gently wiped away the droplet.

“There you go.”

“Thank you. Lucky for you, Everett is outside my jurisdiction. Making me laugh while I’m sipping a drink, however, is not.”

Maclean signaled for the check.

“Well, it’s late,” she said. “I should go. The press conference is at ten in the morning, and I don’t want to be too foggy for it.”

The waiter brought the check and began to hand it to Maclean.

Verraday signaled for it and took out his wallet.

“My turn, Detective. But only because they’re not paying you overtime.”





CHAPTER 33


Maclean pulled up at the curb in front of Verraday’s house.

“Well, Professor, it’s been interesting working with you.”

“Same here, Detective. You’ve had an intriguing life. And dare I say it, you’ve even changed my opinion about cops. At least about some of them.”

“And you’ve changed my opinion about psychologists, Doctor.”

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