“Help yourself.” She waved absently at the fridge, trying to decide why Jack had made a surprise visit if it wasn’t because he was angry at her for leaving work without telling him.
“So, a two-week leave of absence?” he said as he opened the fridge and found the right Tupperware.
“Well, the ‘two weeks’ part was Anderson’s decision. I didn’t put a cap on it.”
“I know you didn’t tell him about your tumor, so how did you explain it?”
“How do you know I didn’t tell him?”
“Hey, I asked the question first.” He popped the lid off of the tuna salad and then looked around, finding the loaf of bread on the end of the counter. He helped himself, plucking a spoon out of the silverware drawer (he found it without her help on the second guess) and layering the salad on a slice of bread.
“I asked him if I could be placed on the Alex Lynch case, and he said no. So I told him I wanted a leave of absence on the grounds that there was no way in hell I’d be able to focus on any other case if I knew Lynch was out there.”
“Makes sense,” Jack said, finishing the construction of his meager sandwich. “I guess he refused it because he thought the connection was just too personal?”
“Exactly. Now…answer my question. How can you know for sure I didn’t tell him about the tumor?”
“Because he assigned me to a case and when I asked him if I could ping you on it, he told me about your leave of absence. And he asked me if I had any idea why you might have made such a decision other than Lynch. I, of course, said I couldn’t think of anything. I think he needs to be told about your situation, but I’m not going to be the one to do it.”
“I’m going to tell him. Maybe in two weeks.”
“Hey, that’s your decision,” Jack said. He took a bite of his sandwich and sat down at the table with her. “But listen…that’s not why I came here today. I came here to tell you about the case he assigned me to. It’s got me worried…about you.”
“How’s that? What’s the case?”
“Two people have been killed outside of medical facilities…cancer treatment centers. One was just off of Broad Street at the Colton Clinic. That one occurred late yesterday afternoon. The other happened in Brandermill three days ago, a fifty-seven-year-old male. Both victims had cancer, and they were terminal cases.”
“You’re certain that’s the only thing linking the victims?”
“Right now, that’s all we’ve got, yeah. And quite frankly, it’s enough for me. You can call me overbearing and worrisome if you want, but I’m afraid you might end up being targeted.”
She thought this over for a while and understood his concern. Two victims, both with terminal cancer…it was a pretty undeniable link. Still, to think she might be affected seemed like a bit of a stretch to her.
“You said both victims were attacked in parking lots, right?” she asked.
“Right.”
“Well, I should be safe for at least another ten days. I don’t have another appointment until then. And hopefully you’ll have caught this guy by then. But…Jesus. Someone targeting people who already have a death sentence seems pretty grim. Who else is working it?”
“It just me for now, working with the police. I’ve got two interviews with family and friends lined up this afternoon, so that’ll be fun.”
“Is there a potential link to the doctors they’re seeing, too?” Rachel asked.
“I checked into that. Nothing lines up. I’ve also looked at the specialists they were seeing beforehand as well. Nothing there, either.”
“Well, how about—”
“Nope,” Jack said, cutting her off. “Two weeks’ leave. Remember?”
She scowled at him and shook her head. “Why did you come by here if it wasn’t to pick my brain about it?”
“I came by to tell you about the specifics of the case and to ask you to please be careful. To watch your back, as it were.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“You feeling okay?”
“I am. Maybe a tiny bit more tired than usual, but nothing bad.”