Mortal Danger

you are doing). So we will have to trust our way of communicating via the Universe.
    He was very confident, his words from the beginning indicating that they were in this together, sharing a deep love, sharing all the blame. His magical thinking had returned to him, and he saw “the Universe” as he chose to see it. He wrote of how much they had both lost, although he ended that thought vaguely: “as a result of things …”
    He blamed his May 29 “nervous breakdown” on his fear of losing Kate and his need to control everything in his life, including her. “I’ve come to the realization that I created the most extreme situation to realize the extremes of the loving, compassionate side of me that wanted to be there for you, and love and care for you forever. Versus the scared, cruel side of me that survived my past hurtful experiences through control and manipulation. It finally exploded within me. I snapped and lost control. I had no right to do so.”
    For pages, he repeated his apologies for manipulating her to his will, and she almost wondered if he had had some kind of watershed moment where he finally saw the truth. Then she caught herself. It was an old technique for him: Mea culpa and then pleas for forgiveness.
    “I saw you run out of the house,” John wrote. “I was in the bathroom, and when I looked in the bathroom mirror, I realized that what was happening was wrong and I had to stop.”
    John assured Kate that he didn’t blame her and had no anger for her. Blame her for what? Calling the sheriff? Going to the hospital? Giving a victim’s statement?
    “I acknowledge you,” he wrote on page four, “for allyou gave to me and our relationship. All your love, loyalty, truth, honesty, compassion, and passion. All your hard work, creativity, and wisdom in All we have created together. Please keep doing the work and carry on what we began.”
    She had wished for such sentiments for a decade; now they were only ashes.
    “Please remember all the neat and beautiful things we did together from Bodega Bay to our last time together at the waterfall with Mittens. From time to time, look at our photo albums and be happy for all we shared…. I have written you so many long letters, but never sent any of them. What I write is for your eyes only. I hope you will honor our private communications.”
    He had apologized, explained why he’d acted the way he had, declared his love and admiration for her, boasted that he’d deliberately spared her life, and then attempted sharp tugs on her heartstrings. He was a master of persuasion.
    He had, he wrote, only “One Request.” He feared disasters when “Y2K or something similar” happened, and he begged her to give shelter and safety to his daughters in Oregon. He wanted her to remain close to Tamara and Heather, because “they love you.”
    And there was another matter. Although he admitted that what he had done to her was wrong, and he accepted responsibility and wanted to “give myself up,” so he could serve “some reasonable time and be provided counseling,” he hadn’t been happy to hear from his attorney that the woman DA who was handling his case would not negotiate. He bemoaned the fact that “local law enforcement andcourt want me to spend the rest of my life in the state prison.”
    If only he and Kate could have talked, John suggested, and worked with a neutral attorney so they could have negotiated with the state. “That way we could bring this to closure and both go on with our lives. Without your help, ” he stressed, “any resolve is impossible.”
    But, alas, his life was over. It was too late. Most of his “deals” were gone. But he still had the biggest one in action—the sale of urine kits. “I’ve kept in touch with these people in spite of things.”
    He wanted to see this endeavor succeed so that all the profits could go to Kate, and she could have a good income for many years. “The State is costing you the loss of earning a living,” he suggested. “Even with me out of the picture, I still love you and want you to be financially secure.”
    The implication was clear. If Kate would only plead for him to get a shorter sentence—or no sentence at all—he would see that she would be rewarded financially…with urine kits. How romantic.
    Once again, he switched gears, and the next two pages returned to the love letter form:
    I wish it were possible for me to hold you in my arms once again, To look into your beautiful