I didn’t know why we did this. I just knew it was instinctive for me. Beth understood my obsession with this case because she was the center of it and was as obsessed as I was. And, of course, there was Lily. No one knew Lily the way Beth and I did. No one had seen her, felt her presence, the way we had. It was impossible to explain, which made it so simple when I talked to someone I didn’t have to explain it to.
“Is Joshua talking to you?” I asked her.
“Joshua will never talk to me again,” Beth said, “but you knew that already. How is he, by the way?”
“He’s fine,” I said. “Angry and determined, but fine. He doesn’t act like he’s retired.”
“That’s because he isn’t. On paper, yes, but otherwise, no. I’m glad I’ve given him a new cause so he can do his white-knight act again. He was always happiest when he had a crusade.”
“What did you do with the ashtray?” I asked her.
“It’s still in the house. I’ve tried to throw it away a dozen times, but Lily won’t let me. It always comes back, and she moves it around the house. It was in the living room one day when you were here. You saw it.”
I remembered the ashtray I’d seen, big and heavy. I’d thought at the time it was the size of a child’s head. Strange, because Beth didn’t smoke. She had hit Lily with it so hard—so hard. They must have found the marks on Lily’s skull. “You never left town in all this time,” I said.
“You think I didn’t try?” Beth laughed without humor. “I’d pack my suitcase, and she would unpack it. I’d throw things out, and she’d bring them back. I got in the car a dozen times without any belongings except the clothes on my back, trying to run. I always ended up back at this house. You can believe me or not, but it’s true.” She paused. “I didn’t want to do any of this, Shea. I know I’m the villain here, and I accept that. But I’ve paid and paid and paid. Prison might even be refreshing at this point. Do you know why I call you at one in the morning? Because despite everything, you’re the only person I can talk to.”
I had just been thinking the same thing about her, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “Giving my name to the press was a nice touch,” I said. “Have I mentioned that you got me fired?”
“Being fired isn’t the only thing you should thank me for.”
I sat up against my pillows. “Thank you? For what?”
“For waking you up—all the way up. It’s amazing what you can do when you stop sleepwalking through your own life, isn’t it?”
I thought about my life now—my writing career, my relationship with Michael, my new relationship with Esther. I was starting the process of getting my driver’s license, and I had stopped hiding in my condo all the time. Still, I couldn’t let Beth Greer take all the credit. “You didn’t change my life, Beth. I did.”
“Do you know what’s interesting?” Beth said, her tone imperious again, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Joshua Black won’t speak to me, but I saved his life. To this day, I think Lily would have killed him if she got the chance. Because Lily disappeared, he got to spend thirty years on the job catching criminals. Catching murderers. Like the man who tried to murder you.”
There was silence on the line. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Good night, Shea,” Beth said, and then the line went dead.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Eight Months Later
Christmas Eve 2018
SHEA
The day the story ended, I was standing in line at CVS, waiting to buy aspirin.
It was raining. They said it was a winter storm, the rain ice-cold, the streets dangerous. The advice on the news was to stay home for Christmas, tuck in with your family, and don’t leave the house. I had planned to do that—I was about to spend the next two days with Michael, sipping wine and watching TV with Winston Purrchill on my lap. I’d only leave to visit Esther and Will and my new nephew, Zach. It had been a wild, stressful, wonderful year, and I was going to unwind. I just needed some aspirin first, because no matter how much time passed, my knee and my elbow still ached.