Someone yells, “Hey!” and I hear a crash and follow the noise around a corner. There’s a pile of hats and fabrics and feathers and a poor stagehand cleaning up the mess.
I hurdle past her.
“Asshole!” she yells after me and I want to apologize but there’s no time.
I return again to the large hallway behind the stage and hear the thuck of a stairwell door closing. I rush to it, swing it open, and hear the ratatat patter of footsteps rapidly descending. I look over the edge—a hand disappears from the railing.
I race after whoever it is, hoping it’s Connor.
I spill out into another open hallway, but this one is deserted. I dart left, taking the corner quietly, hoping to hide my position and hear him revealing his. At the end of the corridor is a locked door with a keycode, so I turn back the way I came. There’s an office to the right of the stairs, lights on behind its big window. Unless he went through another locked door and is hiding under the desk, I’m pretty sure he’s not in there.
Where the hell is Charlie? I could really use his help.
Around yet another corner is a wide hallway, this one with a big, solid bay door on one side and long metal beams with hanging lights above. At the end is a doorway, and I race toward it.
Inside is a small, dark room with only a chair, a wall-length mirror, and a door that says it leads to the stage. I’m about to barge through it when Connor slams against me, sending me hurtling into the mirror, my head cracking the glass.
chapter 117
I collapse to the ground, my body crunching against the daggers of the broken mirror.
Connor plans to deal with me like he did before and swings a leg to kick me in the side, but I’m ready for him this time and hold my arm low to block the blow. As he connects, an intense pain shoots into my shoulder, but I know it would’ve been way worse if his boot had landed on my ribcage.
I grab hold of his foot as he pulls back to kick again and I yank him down, hoping to knock the brain out of his skull. Unfortunately, he twists onto his side as he topples. I have to push him down, but he shoves against me and I can’t get enough leverage to get my weight on him.
He kicks again, catching me in the shin, and it’s enough that he’s able to get the upper hand. I make a fist and swing, connecting with his jaw. I’d barely been in a fight before I met Charlie—I was always able to talk my way out of them—and now I’ve been in three. I punch again, but this time he’s ready and blocks it. He pushes his hand into my face, rubbing my cheek into the broken glass. I feel searing pain as the shards slice through my skin, and I try to push him off, but he’s too heavy.
His hands slide around my throat and he squeezes hard. I try to break his grip but it’s too tight. He sinks his finger into the windpipe below my Adam’s apple. It burns in my throat and I’m gagging and sucking for air at the same time. I can’t breathe. I grab at his face, claw at his cheeks and eyes, but he keeps himself far enough away that I can’t get hold of anything.
Connor’s face hovers above me, wild and bloody, the monster I always imagined him to be. My head throbs and dark spots pop in the corners of my eyes. He’s playing for keeps and I’m sure as hell not getting out of this alive.
The spots become bigger, blacker, and darkness closes in.
I can no longer fight. I have no air. I know I’m dying.
But then his weight is off as his hands are ripped free of my throat, and I can breathe again even though I can barely move.
I inhale hard.
chapter 118
Charlie has come out of nowhere, slamming his body into Connor’s shoulder and face. I look over and see that he’s lifted Connor right off the ground with the tackle, slamming him hard against the wall. They’re in a tangled sprawl, but Charlie pulls himself from the heap, pushing the unconscious Connor to the side.
I get up onto my hands and knees, still trying to breathe, comforting my throat by putting my hand on my neck.
“That’s for the stairs, asshole!” he yells at the heap that is Connor.
He looks at me. I stand, sort of. Both us are doubled over and breathing hard.
“You okay?” he asks.
I’m only starting to think I can straighten up without barfing all over the place. “Think so. You?”
“Oh yeah. Piece of cake,” he grunts.
chapter 119
The two uniformed officers arrive shortly after.
When Charlie rushed the stage, they went after him. He never made it that far, and deked out a side exit instead. Connor had slipped away in the pandemonium. So when the cops showed up, they still had no idea what was going on. They saw an unconscious actor on the ground, broken glass, and the cuts on my face. Charlie was the only one who looked moderately okay. When they rush toward us, I’m pretty sure they’re only going to arrest him.
“Wait!” I call out, my throat feeling like I’ve gargled asphalt. I point at Connor. “He’s the one you want. He’s the guy who’s been killing the girls.”
They ignore me to lock down the situation before sorting out the mess. They put us against a wall, warning us that if we try anything, they’ll handcuff us all. I try and explain again what’s going on, but they tell me to quit talking while they bring Connor around. They’re checking his pupils and asking for responses when the door behind us opens.
It’s the guy with the headset. He sees Charlie and me against the wall and the cops dealing with a semi-coherent Connor and explodes, lunging at the barely conscious killer.
“You! You piece of crap! You destroyed the play.”
The officers react, quickly pushing him back against the wall too.
“I worked so hard and you ruined it! I’m going to kill you!”
The absurdity of it makes me want to giggle but Charlie beats me to it.
“Jeezuz!”
chapter 120
Paramedics and more police arrive. After they check Charlie and me over, they stick us in a small theatre classroom somewhere behind the stage. An officer waits by the door.
“Where’s the other guy?” I ask.
All I care about is what’s going on with Connor. If they don’t realize who he is, I’m worried they’ll let him go. And I sure as hell don’t want to lose him.
The cop ignores me.
I look over at Charlie and he shakes his head. He has no use for police and there’s nothing he’ll share with them, even if it means not helping me out. I’m on my own.
I try again. “Excuse me. What about the other guy?”
The officer looks at me. He’s neither annoyed nor friendly.
“Your buddy?”
This riles Charlie. “He’s not our buddy!”
“Easy, kid.”
“Go screw yourself.”
Charlie’s cornered and he’s doing his best to be a punk. I, on the other hand, only care about making sure Connor goes to jail—well, maybe I’m a little worried about what I’m going to tell my parents and whether or not I need a lawyer—but right now Connor’s still my focus.
“Whatever you do, don’t let him go,” I plead.
“Don’t you worry.” He looks at Charlie. “Your friend is in the next room being babysat by my partner.”
I sigh in relief.
“Can you please call Detective Gekas and tell her what’s going on?”
“Why do you want her?”
Charlie pipes up, “Why don’t you go shove your head up—”
I step in before he makes it worse, “Can you tell her you’re holding Tony Shepherd and Charlie Wolfe? Please?” I suspect he’s being difficult on purpose and I have to work around the system.
He scrutinizes Charlie and me until he decides to make the call.
“I’m right outside, so don’t try anything.”
We say nothing and he leaves the room.
�
�Charlie, you okay?”
“Yup.”
“You nervous?”
“Nope.”
“What are we going to tell Gekas—the truth?”
“Are you mental? I think we need to be very selective of what we tell her.”
I have a sinking, nervous feeling. Connor is our guy and I don’t want some loophole or something we did to allow him to walk away.
The officer returns. “Get up gentlemen. Let’s go. Looks like Detective Gekas wants a visit with you down at the station.
“What about the other guy?”
“He’s coming too.”
chapter 121
They have me in an interrogation room that looks nothing like the movies. There’s a table and two chairs but no big one-way mirror—just four walls and some fluorescent lighting. I wait for a long time, stuck in my own thoughts and all I can think about is Sheri.
One night, only a few months after we started dating, we hung out at my place and watched a movie. I don’t remember what we saw, but I do remember it was awful and we both fell asleep halfway through. I woke, a little disorientated but feeling oh, so comfortable with my arm around her, cuddling. Then, she looked up at me, half awake and half asleep, and she smiled, and I knew she felt the exact same way. I knew then that I wanted to spend a long, long time with her—
Now, that’s changed and nothing can be the same. I’m crying and I wipe my eyes with my sleeves. I finally allow myself to let some of this pain go, piece by small piece.
I force myself to think about other things.
I wonder where Charlie is; I’m nervous for him, knowing this place and how he feels about it. I think about my parents and how much trouble I’ll be in, depending on how all of this goes. I worry about my future, whether I’ve ended any hope of going to university or playing basketball someplace without barbed wire fences.
The door opens and Gekas enters, holding a bottle of water. She takes a seat across from me. She notices the cuts on my cheek but doesn’t mention them. “Thirsty? Water?”
“Yes, please.”
“Sorry it took so long, Anthony. I needed to debrief the officers who brought you in.”
I take a long drink before I feel I can speak. “Why were they there?”
“Connor was Robbie’s emergency contact.”
“Not his parents?”
I feel a sense of judgment that quickly turns to matter-of-factness when I consider how screwed up both Connor and Robbie are.
“When we weren’t able to get a hold of him on his cell phone, we tracked him down there.”
“Is Robbie dead?” I feel a heaviness.
“No. He’s stable.”
I’m relieved. “So you didn’t know about Connor?”
“None of us had even figured it out.”
I feel pride, or accomplishment, or something.
Gekas holds my gaze. It’s her only acknowledgment.
I nod in acceptance. “How’s Charlie?”
She grins. “From what I’ve been told, he’s taking a nap.”
The smile looks good on her and I can’t help but laugh. Only Charlie could sleep at a time like this. “And Connor?”
Her smile fades and I expect the worst.
“He confessed.”
The moment sinks in. The longest minute of the last few weeks passes between Gekas and me.
“To all of it. All the girls.”
That feeling I had weeks ago in the office at school springs right up into my belly, that wicked, familiar, dark feeling in the pit of my stomach, but this time it’s not just nervousness. It’s real. It’s connected to the thing I feared.
I wait for her to say it, holding my breath.
“Including Sheri. He told us where she is.”
Everything drops away and the silent clamp around my internal organs releases. I gasp at the shock of it. She’s dead. I knew it in my head, but this is a visceral punch to the gut and the leaden feeling sinks in. It’s consuming, but at least I now know what happened.
“We barely started interviewing him before he volunteered the information. He wanted to take credit for it, for what he called his ‘performance.’ ”
She pauses, waiting for me, but I don’t know how to respond. I want her to stop talking and I want her to tell me everything.
She continues, “With his confession, I think all charges will stick. I don’t think he’s getting out of it.”
I nod. I can’t quite believe it’s over.
Gekas pushes away from the table and stands. “Good job, Anthony. You and Charles, you helped us get him.”
chapter 122
They release Charlie and me later that day. Mom and Dad are there to pick me up.
No one’s there to pick up Charlie.
I’m about to say something when Mom asks, “Charles? Do you need a ride?”
Charlie tries to wave away the offer, but he doesn’t realize the depth of Mom’s persistence. “Nonsense, you’re coming with us.”
If he tries to say no again, she’ll likely drag him and shove him into the car, and I’m pretty sure he realizes this too, so he comes along.
Charlie doesn’t talk during the trip home, staring out the window, watching the houses go by. Not even Dad’s music seems to change his mood.
It isn’t until we’re in the southeast end of the city that I consider that I have no clue where Charlie lives. I’m curious to see what his home looks like since all he talks about are trailer parks and his absent mother.
“Do you mind stopping up ahead? I’d like to get a coffee and a doughnut.”
Mom and Dad look at him, at each other, at me. It’s kind of a strange request, but I nod, hoping to help get him out of his funk.
They pull into the parking lot at the doughnut place.
“I won’t be long,” Charlie says, before going inside.
We wait in the car and I’m suddenly aware that my parents have me right where they want me. Trapped. I need to beat them to the punch. “Mom, Dad, I—”
Mom interrupts, “Not now.”
“But—?”
“Nope. It’ll be a conversation for later.”
Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me. “Maybe over a cup of tea.”
Crap—it’s gonna be one of those talks. I sigh, leaning back in my seat.
Ten minutes pass. No Charlie.
I go in and look around the coffee shop and check the bathrooms, but I can’t find him anywhere. He must have slipped out the back, out of sight, and into the mystery that surrounds—and maybe even protects—him.
chapter 123
Gekas found Sheri. Connor had taken her only a mile south of the trails and dumped her weighted body into the bottom of a dugout. An autopsy will need to be performed as they continue to build the case against him. She tells me that she and her people will be at it for weeks to make sure Connor is dealt with properly.
Gekas also tells me that officially Shepherd and Wolfe were never involved in the case. I appreciate that. It’s a complication I don’t want, although I never told her about half the stuff we did. Tampering with crime scenes and evidence is not what my favourite lead detective needs to hear just now. We left a pretty big mess behind us that I’m hoping she’ll be able to figure out. In the end, she cut our path of destruction out of her investigation, reducing it to the conversations I had with her and the final incident at the theatre.
A week later, Sheri’s parents hold her funeral. They ask me to attend. Although Charlie and I aren’t officially connected to finding her killer, it appears that Gekas may have hinted to the Beckmans that forgiveness is in order.
The church is full of Sheri’s friends and family. I stand by her coffin, and when I close my eyes, all I see is her big smile. Finally, that thick, heavy weight releases in my gut and the pain rises up. I dec
ide not to hide it this time.
Instead, I let it go.
chapter 124
Mom, Dad, Heather, and I come home from Sheri’s funeral and go inside the house. Heather gives me a final hug before she runs upstairs to change out of her dress. I’m thankful for her love.
I sit at the kitchen island and then Mom and Dad are there, a cup of tea brewed and set between us.
“Is it that time?” I ask.
They smile.
“You know, you drove us crazy the past couple of weeks,” Mom says.
It’s more of a statement than a question, but I nod anyway. I don’t want to fight. My strategy is to let them say whatever they need to.
Dad builds on her thought, “You did a lot of stupid, stupid things.”
“I know—”
“But you also made us proud.”
“You fought for what you believed in. And you fought against something that your Dad and I couldn’t imagine.”
I look at them, not sure what to say.
“But if you ever do something like this again, you’ll be grounded for a very long time.”
I laugh, even though I know it’s true.
chapter 125
I sit in a chair in the backyard, wrapped in a thick fall jacket, eyes closed, feeling the last rays of warm sunlight on my face. Winter is right around the corner.
“You know if you sit on a cold surface, you get hemorrhoids, right?”
Charlie.
I don’t open my eyes right away. “That’s only rocks or sidewalks.”
He sits down beside me. “Really? Hmm… I guess you do know some things.”
I look over at him. He’s brought me a coffee. “You sure took a long time to get that.”
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