Jessie debated how forthcoming to be and decided there wasn’t much downside anymore.

“Yeah, about that. I didn’t mention this earlier but Crutchfield was at the Jerebko house when I showed up to question them. He could have gotten the jump on me, which would have been his second opportunity to kill me in as many days. Instead, he showed me where exactly on the forehead Thurman was physically vulnerable. That was after warning me that Thurman might come after me at the safe house.”

Dolan’s mouth dropped open. Jessie waited for him to recover before continuing.

“Bolton Crutchfield may not be done messing with me. I think he views himself as a cat and me as the ball of yarn he likes batting around. But I feel pretty confident that he doesn’t want to kill me.”

“Are you willing to stake your life on that?” Dolan asked skeptically.

“I’m willing to get back to leading my life. I can’t spend every moment looking over my shoulder. I want to be done with that. And with my father dead, I should be able to finally do that.”

Neither Dolan nor Kat responded to that. Suddenly Jessie felt less confident.

“He is dead, isn’t he?”

Dolan seemed to realize his silence had caused unexpected anxiety.

“Yes,” he assured her quickly. “He is very much dead. In fact, Decker will probably have a few questions for you about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that he’s not only dead, he’s ‘windpipe-crushed, skull cracked open, brains oozing out’ dead. There’s a view among some that you used… unnecessary force.”

“Unnecessary force?” Jessie repeated, her voice cracking in fury. “I was tied up and being slowly filleted. I got a momentary advantage and used it. I had to make sure he was no longer a threat. Should I have just tried to kick him in the balls and hoped for the best?”

“Calm down, Hunt,” Dolan said softly. “I’m not questioning you. And I don’t think Decker is either. I just think some of the bureaucrats looked at the nature of his injuries and raised concerns. They don’t really appreciate the context.”

“So am I in trouble?”

“No. I seriously doubt the civilian profiler who singlehandedly took down a serial killer who’d been on the loose for two decades and who is currently hospitalized is in any long-term trouble. But you may have to make a visit or two to the shrink to discuss your inner demons; you know, the ones that led you to split open your daddy’s head like a melon.”

“Like you should be talking about inner demons,” she pointed out.

“Actually, Hunt, if anyone should be able to speak to them, it’s me,” he said. “You’ve seen how I deal with what happened to my family. I think we both can agree it’s not the healthiest way handle to handle past trauma. And it leads for a lonely life. There’s a reason I work sixteen hours a day. I don’t have anything to go home to. I’d hate for you to end up like that, Hunt; lonely and angry with double bourbons as your only refuge from the pain.”