Chapter 2 – Shatter

Charlotte's body had long been removed, but he just couldn't stop staring at the dark stains on the mattress. His daughter had been so full of life when he'd kissed her goodnight only a few hours ago, and now he was having a hard time adjusting to the concept that he was never going to see her again.

Never again would she throw herself into his welcoming arms, nor dare him to catch her as she ran along the seashore. Her laughter wouldn't grace their empty home anymore.

He felt nothing as his eyes were drawn to the red smiley face painted on the wall, only a pitch black emptiness right where his heart had been. He should be crying now, but his eyes were dry and no tears would come.

Long wailing sobs came from the floor where his wife was still slumped, and all of a sudden he couldn't bear it anymore.

"For goodness' sake, Angela, just shut up!"

Teary eyes met his own. "Our daughter is dead."

"And guess whose fault is it?" he said bitterly.

She recoiled as if she'd been hit, grief and guilt written all over her face. "Don't say that."

Anger bubbled up inside of him, and he all but laughed in her face. "That wouldn't stop it from being the truth. Charlotte would still be alive had you kept your big mouth shut, and you know it."

"Patrick, please…"

"I practically begged you not to go and speak about Red John on TV, but you didn't listen. You never listen to me, Angela – and look what has happened."

"I'm sorry. I – I would do anything to undo what I've done."

"Well, that's not enough. Our daughter is dead; she's gone, and nothing will bring her back."

"I didn't think…"

"That's exactly the point," he retorted bitterly. "You never think. Sometimes you manage to get away with it, but this time our kid has been the one to pay for it."

"And I will hate myself to my dying day for that."

He shook his head. "This is just another of your lies. And I'm sick and tired of them all."

With that he walked away, not heeding her whimpers as she buried her face in her hands once more.

xxx

A dirty money grubbing fraud, that's exactly what she was.

She threw back her head and laughed. Had she been a real psychic, she would be able to talk to her daughter now. Ask her the questions that had been plaguing her mind ever since she'd discovered her mutilated body.

Had Red John woken her up before killing her? Had he enjoyed the fear in her eyes before cutting through her flesh?

"Forgive me, honey," she whispered to the white walls.

Too white. Those walls were too white, she had to do something about it.

Eager fingers delved into the flesh of her forearm, it was a pity that she always kept her nails so short. It didn't matter, she had all the time in the world to reach her goal.

Too much time on her hands, for her husband still refused to come and see her.

Blood gushed from the scratches at last, and she dipped a fingertip into it. Red as ripe cherries, she wondered whether it would taste as good.

Then she started drawing another smiling face on the otherwise pristine wall.

A wry smile tugged at her lips at the thought of all the paint that had been used to cover up each and every one of her attempts so far. The shrink wasn't going to be pleased at all when she saw one more, that was sure.

Angela didn't care in the slightest.

xxx

Doctor Miller called to inform him that his wife was going to be released from the mental institution in a few days. He thanked her politely, but also made sure she understood he didn't want to have anything to do with Angela anymore.

She was his wife in name only. There was no way he could bring himself to forgive her, not since her words were the reason why their daughter had been murdered. It was almost as if she'd killed Charlotte with her own hands, and he could never forget that.

He arranged for a message to be delivered to her as soon as she was out of the hospital. She could go back to their old house in Malibu, or take the money and leave for whatever destination.

However, he asked her not to try and contact him again. He was going to make sure that the man who'd killed their daughter was brought to justice, then disappear.

She was free to start a new life far from him, if that was what she wanted. He didn't care either way.

When his lawyer announced that his wife was going to leave the state, go back to Iowa where Danny Ruskin still lived, Patrick almost heaved a sigh of relief.

He needed space for her, and it wasn't a bad thing that she would have her brother to look after her. Danny wasn't the most reliable person, but he would always be there for his beloved sister.

As for himself, he had things to do. He'd spent the last six months gathering information about Red John, and reading Angela's old notes about the case too.

Now he fully intended to offer his services to the California Bureau of Investigation, which had recently taken over the case from Sac PD. They would probably be even more reluctant to have a victim's relative investigate the case, but he would make sure they came to appreciate his skills.

He'd always been very observant ever since his childhood, and that was how he managed to make his magic work. All he had to do was turn his abilities to a different use, make sure that the serial killer paid for what he had done.

There would be plenty time for grief once his mission was accomplished.