“You thought the killings would stop,” he stated, seeing my thought process, a look, almost pity, crossing his face.
“Yes.” He shouldn’t be here, in this stairwell. It was a private one, for staff only, used for emergencies when the staff elevators were too busy, the stale air in here proof of their non-use.
“I didn’t kill them because of the World Series, Ty. That…” he waved his hand into empty space, the knife in it flashing, “that was an assumption the papers made, an assumption the police adopted, all of it embraced by the fans. Only Yankee fans would make this all about baseball.”
“It wasn’t a stretch,” I pointed out, my stupid mouth unable to contain itself. “The Yankees’ necklace, the girl in the jersey right outside our gates—”
“Oh, Ty,” he interrupted, his voice quiet and sad, stepping forward. Closer. Closer. The knife in arm’s reach. If he punched out, right now, it could hit so many vulnerable places. My stomach, cutting across the faint stretch marks that showed in harsh light. My heart, so full and happy, just minutes earlier. My lungs, empty caverns that had suddenly forgotten how to function. I watched it, his hands stilling as he stopped, and I lifted my gaze slowly, carefully, to his face. A face filled with so much pity that I almost forgot he was the enemy. “You are so much smarter than this. Think.”
I tried to think. I tried to understand. I tried to see an escape to this madness. But my mind failed me on all three fronts. Instead, I began to panic, painful bits of the past pushing forward.
“The baby.” I looked out on the water, not turning when Tobey stepped closer, shuddering when his hand gently touched the top of mine. I pulled it away, and he didn’t come closer. “It’s gone.”
He didn’t respond. I needed a response from him. I needed to know how he felt, if he was as shaken as I was. I needed him to push through my resistance and pull me against his chest. I needed to sob and scream and break down, and I needed him to be the strong one, to pick up my pieces and put me back together. But he didn’t. He only stood there, next to me, both of us staring out into the dark, and said nothing.
“Rachel Frepp,” Dan said. “What do you know about her?”
Nothing. She’d gone to a few games. She worked as a valet. Was just like all of them, blonde and gorgeous. I shook my head, my hysteria rising. “I won’t tell anyone,” I whispered. “You can just go, right now. The police will never know. I promise.” In that moment, I meant it. I would let him go, would risk another woman’s life just to remove myself from danger. I stared him down and let him see the sincerity in my eyes. I was so close to finally leaving Tobey, to leaving this life, to being happy. I couldn’t die now, not when I was in reach of everything I’d ever wanted.
His expression soured, and I saw the minute his patience stopped.
“You misunderstand what I’m doing here, Ty. I’m here for you.”
“The issue was, when someone is blessed with things, like Tobey, you have to appreciate those things. Preserve those things. Whether Tobey Grant knew it or not, I was helping him. I was putting him on the right path, one that saved his marriage, one that saved his team. And I was in the perfect position to do that. Because I could see. I could see the mistakes before he made them. Take Rachel Frepp for example. If it wasn’t for me, he’d have never married Ty. He didn’t care about the baby, he was in love with Rachel. I knew it the first time I asked him about the engagement—could see that something was off, that he was a panicked man. It hadn’t taken much digging to find out who he’d been dating. Hell, who he was still dating, even with a pregnant Ty Rollins packing up her stuff and moving into his family’s mansion. She had to be eliminated. It was the only option.”
Dan Velacruz, New York Times
109
“Me?” The warnings of Detective Thorpe echoed in my mind, every slip of me past security, every time I argued for freedom—stupid decisions from a stupid girl. I had thought myself invincible. I had thought that just because I was happy, that I deserved life.
“Everything had finally come together. After Tiffany, Tobey had stopped. Had been faithful. And then you. You. You had to mess everything up.”