Molly sat on the stiff, floral upholstery of the cheap sofa in the waiting area and tried to think of something to say to the young man seated next to her. His name was Kevin and his father was undergoing emergency surgery. He looked remarkably calm, but his hands fidgeted endlessly with his phone. She finally commented on his USC sweatshirt, and that got them on the topic of SAT prep and college admissions, to Molly's great relief. The boy's mother was filling out a stack of paperwork at the admissions desk, and the detectives were all conferring in the hallway. It looked like it was going to be a long evening.
She was halfway through her speech on the pros and cons of research versus teaching schools when she saw Flynn waving her over. She excused herself from her captive audience.
"Professor Hughes," Chief Johnson said, "We want to ask you some more questions about Stuart Mackie."
"Sure, but I haven't remembered anything new since I gave my statement."
"That's alright. I just want to ask you about the time he was telling you about the videos he was shooting. You said he told you where he was sending them?"
"Yes, he said he was sending them to the police, but I didn't really believe him."
"Did he mention Major Crimes specifically?"
"Mmm…I don't think so. The first time, when he was getting the camera set up, he made me brush my hair. And he said something like 'You need to look right. This is going to the police, you know.' He made me practice reading the script, which was good because I figured out how to send a message just in case he really was going to send the video."
"What about the second video?" Brenda asked.
I wasn't in such great shape then, it's hard to remember."
"Try," Flynn said. His voice was urgent.
Molly closed her eyes and brought the smells and sounds of that despised room back. "He was excited, talking to himself," she said slowly. "He checked the bandage on my toe…"
"Beautiful!" he said. "My best yet!" He poked the stitches and Molly yelped. "Don't worry," he said in a soothing voice. "You're healing nicely, and your toe is in good hands. Elite hands. They'll be impressed." He hummed happily to himself while he replaced the bandage.
"That's all he said?" Brenda asked.
"I don't know. I can't remember after that."
"Nothing about Major Crimes, then," Brenda mused.
"I don't know, Chief," Flynn said. "That Ramos guy described us as an elite unit several times. Maybe Mackie learned about us from those stories."
"There's no harm in taking precautions," Gabriel said. "You should probably have some protection, Chief. You're the one he'd go after next."
"Fritz is going to meet me here soon. We'll be fine," Brenda said. "But I think Lieutenant Flynn is a more likely target. He's the one who's been escorting Professor Hughes around. Mackie doesn't like obstacles."
"The safehouse has a second bedroom," Flynn said. "I can stay there."
"Alright," Brenda said. She looked past him as a door opened down the hallway. A woman in a white coat walked briskly toward them. She looked tired. She went straight past them to Kate at the counter. The small group followed so they could hear the verdict.
"He made it through the surgery, but it's too early to tell," the doctor said. "His liver is badly damaged and we had to remove his spleen." Kate covered her eyes and Gabriel moved to put an arm around her. Kevin joined them a moment later. The Chief's phone rang. While she walked off to answer it, Molly snuck a glance at Flynn. He was leaning against the counter, forehead in his hands. She wished she could find a way to comfort these people, but she was a stranger. She wandered back to the waiting area and sat down.
Since there was nothing more they could do for Tao, the group split up soon after. The Chief headed home with her husband. Gabriel took Tao's family to the cafeteria. Flynn took Molly back to his car.
"I'm sorry about Lieutenant Tao," she said tentatively.
"Thanks," he said shortly.
She left him to his thoughts until he got onto the 405. "Where are we going?"
"Oh. Sorry. I need to stop at my house and get Nessa. Do you mind if she stays at the safehouse tonight?"
"No, of course not."
Flynn turned on an oldies station. "You hungry?" he said.
"No. If you want to stop, though, go ahead."
"No. I can't eat right now."
"Um, Lieutenant, I know I don't know you and the squad very well, but if you want to talk, I'll listen." Molly winced internally even as the corny words were coming out of her mouth.
Flynn shrugged. "What's the point? We're cops. We know what the job involves. Dwelling on it isn't gonna help us find this asshole." His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
"Why do you think he targeted Lieutenant Tao?"
"Well, that's the interesting thing." Flynn turned down the radio. "Tao is the only one on the squad with medical training. My guess is that Mackie knows that. He's systematic, this guy. He probably researched us and thought we'd be more likely to recognize his surgical skills. When we didn't respond the way he wanted, he got mad. The message he sent today confirms that."
"What message?"
"They found a rolled up note inside the bolt he shot at Tao. It said, 'Pearls before swine. Good thing I like bacon!'" Flynn delivered the last line through gritted teeth.
Molly didn't know what to say. As they got closer to Flynn's neighborhood, she noticed him checking the rearview mirror more often. His whole body was rigid and alert. He wasn't an especially large man, but she didn't think she'd ever met anyone quite as tough as him. Battle-scarred, even. She blushed now to think that she had been trying to give him sympathy. As if he could possibly need anything from her.
He made her wait in the car while he collected what he needed from the house. When he came back to the garage, he had exchanged his beige suit for jeans and a baseball shirt, and he had a big dog bed and a bag of food in his arms. He prodded Nessa ahead of him with his toe. When Nessa saw Molly she barked a happy greeting and trotted to the passenger door.
"No, Nessa," Flynn said firmly. "Back seat." She jumped into the back seat and put her head over Molly's shoulder to give her a big kiss on the cheek before Flynn hooked her harness to the seat belt. He settled into his seat and backed the car out of the garage.
"I guess I'm hungry after all," he said suddenly. "You mind if we stop at a drive-in?"
"Sure."
He drove to West Hollywood and pulled into a funky 50's style drive-in that specialized in veggie burgers. When Molly saw the gigantic list of homemade shake flavors, her stomach growled. She ended up with avocado-mango. Flynn made a face when she ordered it. The carhop laughed and assured her it was a good choice.
As they sat sipping their drinks and passing fries back to Nessa, the tension in the car seemed to dissipate. Del Shannon was singing about his little runaway while the carhops glided between the cars on neon-colored roller skates. Flynn still seemed lost in his thoughts, but his jaw had unclenched.
"There's something I can't figure out," he said out of the blue.
"Mmmhmm?" Molly had just taken a bite of her Aloha burger.
Flynn was gazing emptily through the windshield. "What happened to his mother?"
"His mother?"
"Yeah, she disappeared a couple years ago. She has to be connected to this. She had a toe amputated because of diabetes. We know that from medical records. And then she got lymphoma and was transferred to hospice. But she never went to a hospice program. She just disappeared."
"You think he killed her?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense. Everyone who knew him says she abused him and he hated her. Maybe he killed her and now he feels so guilty about it that he's trying to make amends in some way."
"How does kidnapping and killing other people make amends?"
"I don't know." Flynn rubbed his forehead. "Usually when cases get this weird I just decide the guy is bonkers and stop trying to analyze him. But I keep remembering what you said during your statement. That Mackie talked to himself a lot, in all kinds of weird voices, and sometimes it sounded like he was talking to somebody else. What was it he said?"
"'You'll see. You'll see.' He kept saying that. Sometimes he would talk in this high-pitched voice and yell 'Save me! Save me!' or he'd say 'You're a loser! You'll never make it!' and then he would get mad and shout at himself to shut up."
"Remember when you were talking about the Matrix today? It made me think about Mackie. Maybe he's in his own Matrix where his mother is still alive, still abusing him."
"You think his actions are really directed at her? He's trying to prove something to her, not to you guys?"
"Yeah, I think so. That Descartes guy said 'I think, therefore I exist,' right? Well, for Mackie it's more like 'My mother believes in me, therefore I exist.' He hates her abuse but he can't live without it."
"How does it help to know that?" Molly asked.
"I have no idea," Flynn admitted. "It's philosophy – fascinating, but useless."
Molly laughed. "Go ahead and tell me what you really think, Andy."
Flynn grinned at her. "No offense. I mean, at least you're not a lawyer."
Flynn woke with a start. He had been dreaming about Christmas. His mother had handed him a giant box wrapped in silver foil, and when he opened it he saw it was full of dripping organs, each one wrapped in a bow. He sat up and rubbed his heartburn-laden chest. A faint glow of light outlined the curtains. Too early to wake up, but what the hell? Nessa had been sleeping with him, but she must be out bothering Mikki in the livingroom. He should give her a walk. The dog, not Mikki.
When he shuffled out to the livingroom, Mikki was alone on the couch, long legs stretched out in front of her and a crime novel in her hands.
"Geez," he mumbled as he passed her. "Don't you get enough of that at work?"
"There's somebody in here who's just like you," she said. "Smart mouth. Craggy face. He's one of the bad guys."
Flynn snorted and continued to the kitchen for his morning fix. He looked around. "Where's Nessa?" he asked.
"Oh, she insisted on going into Molly's room," Mikki called from the livingroom. Andy saw that Molly's door was closed, which was a good thing given how well Mikki's voice carried. It wasn't even 5:30 yet. He carried his coffee into the livingroom and banged on Mikki's feet till she let him sit on the lumpy couch. She promptly put her feet on his lap. He rubbed them absently while he drank his coffee. Not as good as a warm dog after a bad dream, but it helped.
The coffee wasn't sitting well on his acid stomach. Something felt wrong. He pushed Mikki's feet aside and got up to look out the window. The sun would be coming up soon. The whole sky glowed a rosy pink. He scanned the quiet street. Nothing out of place.
"I'm up," he said over his shoulder. "You can knock off early if you want."
She looked at her watch. "Well, there is a sunrise yoga class I'd like to get to."
He rolled his eyes. These kids on the force lately – they made him tired. He just hoped he wouldn't end up like Provenza, refusing even to run. The way his knees ached sometimes, he wondered if that was what his future looked like.
After Mikki bounced off, Flynn turned on the news. His heartburn flared at the sight of the lead story, and he switched quickly to BBC. Nice, soothing news from the Middle East. The reporter was detailing the latest diplomatic breakdown in an accent that added an automatic twenty IQ points to everything she said when Flynn's phone rang. The timing told him what it must be, but he didn't recognize the number on the screen. He listened to the caller tell him what he had been silently praying not to hear. The young officer was very sorry, but the Chief had asked him to notify everyone.
Flynn hung up and went to Molly's room. He didn't bother knocking; he just went straight in. She was an amorphous lump with the blankets pulled up past her chin. Nessa was stretched out next to her, taking up as much of the bed as possible. Flynn just stood there, longing to wedge himself in between them. Molly stirred and her head emerged from the pile of blankets. "Everything okay?" she mumbled.
Flynn shook his head.
Molly rubbed her eyes and sat up. She looked at him for a moment and didn't say a word. She just held out her arms. He collapsed onto the bed and buried himself in her warm arms. She smelled like soap and honey and sleep. "He's not going to make it," he choked out. She squeezed him tight and rocked him back and forth.
He lost track of time while he let out his anguish. After Provenza, Mike was his best friend on the squad. He never got political, never played ego games. He just followed the evidence. Whenever Flynn felt like he was getting too close to a case, too pulled off balance by his undisciplined emotions, he could talk to Tao and the world would right itself again.
He finally ran out of breath. Molly handed him a bundle of tissues. "I can go to the hospital with you, if you want," she said.
He blew his nose. "Actually," he said, "there's no choice about that. I sent Mikki home."
"Okay, just let me get dressed." She slid out from under the covers and straightened her fleecy pink pajamas.
He rose from the bed as well. "I'll walk Nessa." He looked down at the rumpled, sleepy woman standing in front of him. She reached out and he pulled her into his arms. They just held each other for another minute. "Thank you," he whispered into her ear before he finally let her go.