Shame

quickly Janet was swimming away, evading him.
    Feral stretched, then dove into the pool.
    “Marco,” yelled James.
    “Polo,” said Janet.
    “Polo,” said Feral.
    For a moment James hesitated. The man’s voice was very near to him. And he’d been “it” for a long time.
    “Marco,” screamed James.
    In unison, Feral and Janet said, “Polo.”
    James dove and tagged Feral.
    “I guess you got me,” Feral said.
    “How many times have you tried calling her?” asked Lola.
    “Four,” said Caleb.
    “Maybe her phone’s out of juice.”
    He shook his head. “More than two hours ago she said she was going to talk with Anna, and then she was going to have Anna call me. Something’s wrong.”
    “Call her again,” she said.
    One ring, two rings...
    “Marco,” yelled Feral.
    “Polo.”
    The boy was to his left and drifting back. The girl was off to his right, probably near the edge of the pool, ready to make a break for it. Both were close.
    Feral faked left, then broke right. He swam with strong strokes, reaching, reaching...
    Got her.
    She was laughing, but it was a frightened laugh, the kind that bordered between being excited and being frightened. And then Feral heard something else.
    “Excuse me,” he said. “Somebody’s calling.”
    He pulled himself out of the pool and walked over to the ringing cell phone.
    Three rings, four rings. And then the ringing stopped. But the line wasn’t dead. Caleb could hear breathing.
    “Elizabeth?”
    “I’m afraid she’s unable to come to the phone right now.”
    Caleb knew that voice. Remembered its every inflection. It was the voice that had drawn him to the Sanderses’ house. Hate rose up in him. Pent-up emotions choked Caleb. He wanted to kill.
    “You.”
    “Yes.”
    “Where’s Elizabeth?”
    “She’s safe. She’s sleeping now. Poor girl was exhausted.”
    “What do you want?”
    “What I’ve always wanted. A face-to-face with you. A chance for us to communicate. Kindred spirits should talk.”
    “Kindred spirits?”
    “Yes. We have much in common.”
    Lola moved her head close to Caleb’s, trying to hear what was being said.
    “We don’t have anything in common.”
    “Methinks thou doth protest too much. Oh, I’ve studied you, Gray Junior, I know you like no one else knows you. I might have done the killings, but you were there with me in spirit. Kill one for the Gipper, eh?”
    “You’re insane.”
    “Don’t kill the messenger, Gray Junior. Hard as you might find this to believe, I’ve never meant you any harm. I even think of myself as your friend.”
    “Friend?”
    “I’m prepared to prove that. I have certain—mementos—that will allow you to have your life back, if that’s what you truly desire. These items will prove your innocence—such as it is.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “I could have killed you last night, but I didn’t. Besides, it’s not as if you have a choice in the matter.”
    Feral held the phone out, keying on the two voices coming from the pool.
    “Marco.”
    “Polo.”
    Caleb covered his mouth with a suddenly trembling hand, then moved his shaky hand over the receiver. “He’s with my kids.”
    “Do you have access to a car?” Feral asked.
    “Marco,” Caleb’s daughter shouted.
    “Well?” Feral said.
    Caleb forced himself to speak. “I can get one.”
    “Then do so, and drive to La Jolla.”
    “Polo,” said Caleb’s son.
    “There’s a restaurant in downtown La Jolla called The Top Hat. Be at the maître d’ stand in forty-five minutes. Don’t be late. And don’t bother to order any food, because you won’t be staying to dine.”
    In the background, Caleb could hear the cries of Janet and James. Their voices paralyzed him:
Marco! Polo! Marco! Polo!
    “But first, Gray Junior, the ground rules. Obey them, and your children will live. No tricks. No police. Just the two of us. Is that understood?”
    “Yes.”
    Feral lifted the cell phone up again, held it so that Caleb could hear his children’s voices.
    “It’s one thing for some strangers to die,” he said. “Family is different, though.”
    “If you touch my children, I’ll kill you. I swear to God I will.”
    “I’ll be carrying Miss Elizabeth’s cell phone. That’s how I’ll be communicating with you. But I think you’d better hurry along right now.”
    Feral didn’t hang up right away. Caleb heard his daughter yell, “Marco.”
    And then, before the line went dead, he heard the killer’s answer: