I grabbed a lamp Erin had thrown on the floor. It was so heavy I needed both hands to pick it up. Not ideal, but what choice did I have? Erin was small. It wouldn’t take much to hurt her. I bent down, waited next to the Houdini box. She opened the basement door too fast and it squeaked.
Clomp. She was on the first stair. Clomp. Second. She picked up speed as she continued down. Faster. Faster. Faster, until—
“Lena. You down here?”
Stuart.
Thirty-One
I jolted for only a second, but that was all he needed to see me crouching next to the stairs, lamp in both hands. His eyes were cold and lifeless. And I suddenly understood why he smiled so much. Because otherwise his face showed his true colors.
“You okay?” Good Old Stuart finally kicked in. Friendly Stuart. Flirty Stuart.
I scrambled up. “Yeah, you just scared me.” It was easy to sound afraid when you were.
He was dressed in a black suit, no tie, top buttons of his black shirt artfully undone, revealing his pecs. I could barely look at him as he motioned to the lamp. “You gonna put that down?”
No. I gripped it tighter. He didn’t come any closer. Just watched me, until he spoke again. “You sure you’re okay?”
He not only had a good half a foot and eighty pounds on me, he was standing in front of the lone exit. I had one advantage: that he still thought I was clueless. Playing dumb was my best bet. If I could just get him to leave, I could call the police.
I finally let go of the lamp with one hand, let it fall loosely to my side. It felt heavy, but I wasn’t letting it go. Instead, I returned the silly-ass smile still plastered on his face. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to apologize. Again. Then I saw your front door was open, and I got scared. Now here you are, ready to break some family heirloom over my head. Clearly something’s going on.” He motioned to the lamp. “Who was that for?”
“Erin.” Might as well be honest. Sort of. “I think she…she…may have killed Desiree.”
I wasn’t the only one acting. He looked shocked. “Her best friend? Why?” He’d noticed when I hesitated. “Look, I’m not gonna write about it.”
“I don’t know all the details. Just that for some reason Desiree stole Naut’s computer and left it here. That was why she was coming to the Bronx. To get it back. I don’t know what’s on it, but it made Erin do all this.”
I motioned to the mess, but he kept his eyes on me. “She find it?”
I nodded again, a bit too quick. “Yep. Took it with her.”
“Taking it to the police?”
“You clearly don’t know Erin. More like Naut’s apartment. Probably offering to sell it back to him.”
“Great. Means we know where to find her.” He motioned for me to head up. “Let’s go, then.”
I didn’t move. “You want to go to Naut’s apartment?”
Why? Had they spoken? Did he know that I knew?
He nodded, and I shook my head. If I could just get him to leave, I could break into Aunt E’s, call the police from her landline. Tell them to meet him in Harlem. “You’re the reporter. You go. I’ll read about it tomorrow.”
“No.” There was a force to his voice that almost knocked me over. He must’ve realized it too because when he spoke again, it was more of a caress. “I’m not going to leave you alone. What if she comes back?”
“Okay,” I said because at least it would get me upstairs and outside, where Ms. Paterson was no doubt lying in wait. If I could signal to her, she could call the police.
He watched as I slowly put the lamp down. “Ladies first.” His voice was insistent.
I hesitated, then walked by him. As I did, I noticed his shirt wasn’t unbuttoned by choice. The top buttons were missing. Freaked, I started to rush up the stairs, but he was close behind me. I glanced back and forced another smile. “I am glad you stopped by.”
“That mean you accept my apology?”
No. “Maybe.”
I could feel his breath as he trailed me out the front door. He closed it behind us, making sure to check it was locked. As he did, I looked around. For once, I cursed living on the quietest block in Highbridge. The lights were on in Ms. Paterson’s first-floor window, but there was no telltale shadow. It didn’t surprise me. She was too good at snooping for that.
I stared, hoping she could read my mind.
“My car’s right there.”
I finally turned away to see his MINI Cooper blocking my driveway.
“You okay?” he said again.
I nodded and began to walk toward the street. We were just a few feet from his car when I saw it. The brown hand splayed on the concrete. Her bare fingernails all that was visible, the rest of her hidden behind her beloved rosebushes.
Ms. Paterson.
I ran toward her. As I got closer, I could see something black and small a few inches from her hand. One of Stuart’s missing buttons.
Oh my God. He’d killed her.
I got out half a scream before the hand covered my mouth. Something cold and hard pressed against my neck. A gun. “Shut up and get in the car, Lena.”
I shook my head, scared but not foolish. Who knew what he’d do to me if he got me alone? I’d take my chances in public. Surely one of my neighbors would stop minding their business long enough to look out the window.
“Get. In. The. Car.”
He used his body to push me across my driveway and to the waiting front passenger door. I slammed against it, then tried to go as slack as an obstinate toddler. I hadn’t ever heard a gun cock before, but I still recognized the sound. “I will kill you like I killed your sister,” he said.
I had finally gotten my confession.
And that was it. I went from pause to fast-forward, desperate to make it to the end of the story. I butted my head back, hoping to take him by surprise. It didn’t work. I felt a searing pain on the right side of my head. Everything went black.
*
I woke up in the front passenger seat, hands bound together with jump rope and head throbbing where he’d hit me with his gun. The car was so quiet I could hear his breathing. Labored. Steady. Determined.
“You’re awake,” he said.
I glanced over. He hadn’t bothered to put his seat belt on. Just mine. Another way to keep me restrained. I couldn’t see the gun but knew it was there somewhere.
He had killed Desiree.
I forced myself not to think about it, not when I needed to stay alive myself.
“I really did like you,” he said.
I ignored that, no desire to have some heart-to-heart. Instead, I looked out the window, tried to figure out where we were. Judging from the water, we’d just crossed the bridge into Manhattan. We were moving at a steady clip, but we’d have to slow down eventually, stop at some red light. If I could open the door, I could roll out. Get away.
“She didn’t know, you know.” And that’s what got my attention. I finally turned as he kept going. “She thought I was going to help her get justice, as she called it. She’d agreed to give me the video so I’d write about what Naut did to that guy.”
Kevin House. He had a daughter.
“Help his family get closure, she said. We agreed to meet up here, but then I realized she didn’t give a shit that Naut’s life would be ruined—my life would be ruined—if that video got out.”