Jeanne Stein - The Watcher

He says that with great concern in his voice. And knowing what he does about me, that means a lot. Of course, he may not really understand what being a vampire is all about but I'm touched by the effort anyway.

I put a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Max. Chief Williams wouldn't put me in any real danger. I'm sure he has a plan, don't you?"

My gaze shifts to him. He has his arms crossed over his chest. "A good one I think. Reporters have been waiting to speak with Anna since the Palm Canyon incident. We're going to give them the chance. Tomorrow. At a press conference. At that time, Anna is going to say that she's been vacationing in Mexico and didn't hear about the death of her partner. She'll let it slip that she's going to his resting place in Mt. Hope Cemetery to pay her respects."

Max shoots me a look. "What Palm Canyon thing?" he asks.

But before I answer, David asks, "Mt. Hope? Why Mt. Hope?"

Williams says, "Mt. Hope is perfect for what we have in mind. Hilly. Lots of big trees. We'll have the place staked out. When Anna shows, we're betting the killer will, too."

It's a good plan. I nod that I accept.

"The press will get the details tonight. Anna, watch the news. You're about to make headlines again."

Now Max is staring. "What do you mean Anna is about to make headlines again?'

"I got involved in a domestic violence thing, Max. No big deal but the papers got hold of the story."

David and Williams are frowning at me. Max sees it and grumbles, "Why do I think it was a big deal?"

When no one jumps on that, he continues. "Well, I don't like it. If this guy is as dangerous as you think, how do you plan to keep the press away from the cemetery? Innocent people could get hurt."

"They may be waiting for Anna at the cemetery," Williams answers. "But we'll have police there, too. And Anna will make it clear that she wants to visit David's grave site alone. We have thought this out, Max."

Still, he doesn't look convinced. "I want to go with her."

I put a hand on his arm. "In a wheelchair? I appreciate your concern, but that's not practical. Besides, you know I can take care of myself."

Williams picks up on something in my tone and he immediately sends me a mental demand to explain. I ignore it, countering with a demand of my own. "I think my friends and I deserve a little peace today, don't you, Chief Williams?"

He is clearly taken aback by the dismissal. He frowns. I thought we would spend the day together. I want to know more about what happened in Mexico.

I'm not sure whether he means what happened with Burke or what happened with Martinez and Foley. In any case, my response is the same. Not today.

Suddenly, I'm bone tired—tired of explaining and defending myself, tired of fighting.

I just want to be by myself.

Williams seems to detect a shift in whatever mental vibe I'm sending out. My actual thoughts are shielded, but he's picking up on something.

Anna?

Without a word, I pick myself up and walk out the door.

IT'S NOT HARD TO LOSE THE TAIL. I can't believe Williams actually assigned a mortal to watch me, but I guess he figured if I wasn't with him, I'd be spending the day in the hospital with Max and David.

I take off down Sixth Avenue on foot. Straight down to the city, where I lose myself in the midday shopping crowd. From there I follow Broadway to the waterfront and head for Seaport Village. When I'm sure no one has spotted me, I hail a cab.

I have the driver drop me off in front of Mission Cafe. It's crowded as usual, and I simply walk in and straight through to the rear. I take the alley and wait until I can lose myself in a group at a crosswalk to scoot across Mission and head for home.

I use the back entrance, through the garage. The code lets me into the garage and the spare key I keep hidden behind a tool chest lets me into the house.

Only when the door is closed and locked behind me do I breathe a sigh of relief.

Then I change into my own clothes—a sweat suit and socks—and climb into my own bed.

I unplug the telephone because I'm sure it will dawn on Williams eventually that I might have come home. If he has a clue about me, he won't send a cop to check or come himself. I'm fairly sure he knows me well enough by now to realize what a mistake that would be.

For the first time in a week, I have no one to answer to, no one to fight, no one to save. I don't have to guard my thoughts. I pull the covers up around my neck and cry. My simple life has gotten so complicated. I don't know how to make things right.

I only know I've got to make some changes.

THE TIME I SPEND ALONE HELPS CLARIFY MY THINKing. In the last week, I fought with David, almost lost Culebra, revealed myself as a vampire to Max. I was betrayed by Williams, not overtly, but by omission, which is just as bad. It's time to make some changes in my life. And I know what the first one will be.

So when I show up at the press conference, I have every intention of telling Williams what I've decided. The opportunity never presents itself. He's late and the reporters don't give us a moment alone. Then he's called away, and I'm left to take a radio car to the hospital. When I get there, Max and David are together in David's room just as they were twenty-four hours before. It's a déjà vu moment except that this time, there's relief on their faces when they see me.

Neither says anything about my disappearing act yesterday.

"Williams will be here in a little while," I say. "He's going to take me to the cemetery."

Max says quietly, "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

David glances at the clock, then picks up the TV remote. “They'll be reporting the story about you on the nine o'clock news."

I take a seat beside his bed and we watch. I pretend to be interested in the cheerful banter between the cheerful newscasters. After fifteen or so minutes, the story about El Centra, my return from Mexico and David's death is broadcast. While they talk, the network flashes a picture of me that I don't recognize. Then I realize it's from a newspaper article written two years ago about David and I. I look different, softer, and I'm smiling. No wonder I didn't recognize it. When the taped segment from this morning is run, it's like watching a stranger. I answer the questions from the reporters soberly and with a complete lack of animation. I look like a robot. It reflects the way I feel.

When it's over, David clicks off the television.

Max and David give up trying to draw me into their conversation. Good thing. The topic is international soccer and evidently, David favors Italy, while Max thinks Argentina has a shot at the next World Cup. The two men seem to find this of major importance. I've never heard David talk about soccer before except to denigrate it when someone calls it "football." I'd find the passion they are displaying amusing if I could work up enough emotion to care.

When Williams shows up, he tries to reach into my head. I don't let him. I want to wait until this is over to tell him my plans. He begins to review what's going to happen this morning, and I listen with dispassionate interest. He's upbeat and optimistic, even predicting that I'll be back with David and Max by lunchtime.

There's a car waiting downstairs and Williams climbs into the backseat beside me. I expect Ortiz to be driving, but it's a cop I don't recognize. He's human. Williams is treating this as a normal police exercise.

Which, of course, it is.

Except for the fact that the target of this particular exercise, me, is not normal.

Williams has given up trying to communicate with me telepathically. Once we're on the road, he clears his throat in a way to make sure he has my attention and says, "You know what you're to do?"