the owners. I also just got off the phone with my agent in charge. We’re putting round-the-clock surveillance on Fournier. Until we grab him, I want you out of here, Miss Bloom, or Fournier, or whatever the hell your name is. I want you to get checked out at the hospital and then get on the first flight out of here this morning, and don’t think this is all over. We’ll be keeping an eye on you. And you, Charlie. You can bet your ass I’ll be in touch.”
Chapter 109
WE SKIPPED THE HOSPITAL and went straight to the airport, stopping only to swing by Charlie’s house so I could get changed and grab my bags.
The sun was rising behind the smudged Plexiglas window of the airport waiting area when Agent Holden called Charlie on his cell an hour later. Charlie excused himself to take the call.
“Holden just got to Spence’s house with the state CSI team,” Charlie said, clicking his phone shut as he came back inside. “Hopefully, they’ll find evidence that’ll link that psycho son of a bitch to Tara Foster’s murder as well as to the disappearances of all those other women. He said the place looks like a landfill, so it’ll probably take awhile.”
Charlie shook his bruised purple head. “What a night, huh? Do I know how to party or what?” he said as they called my plane.
“Charlie, listen. I need to tell you something,” I said. “I left something out.”
“No,” Charlie said. “Please. Not more.”
“It’s going to come out, and I want you to hear it from me first. It’s about how I met Peter.” I took a breath. I felt a weight shift inside me, the weight of so many years of holding it all in.
“Seventeen years ago, when I was on spring break, I’d been drinking and got behind the wheel, and I accidentally killed a man. Peter was the first cop on scene. He helped me. He got rid of the body.”
“What?” Charlie said.
“Yes, Charlie. That’s how we met. That’s probably why I married him. He protected me from going to jail. I’m just like him, Charlie. Corrupt. You need to stay the hell away from me. Everyone does. My whole life is just one big lie. I guess it always has been.”
Charlie stared at me. He winced, looking away. I could see tears in his eyes, pure hurt. It killed me to see him like that. He opened his mouth to say something, then he closed it again.
“Charlie,” I said, starting to cry myself.
“I’m leaving,” he said a moment later.
And that’s just what he did, without another look back.
Chapter 110
I SOMETIMES have trouble sleeping on planes, but not this time. I slept all the way to Atlanta, and after I switched planes I put my head back and went out like a light switch again. I didn’t wake up until we were touching down in New York.
I was in my apartment an hour later, showered and in my own bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, when my wall phone rang.
“I just heard!” my boss, Tom Sidirov, yelled triumphantly. “You pulled it off! You actually saved a guy on death row. Home run! Grand slam! Come in right now. We’ll go to lunch. I need to hear all about it.”
“I’d love to, Tom,” I said. “But I just got off the plane. How about tomorrow? I’m zonked.”
“Of course, of course. Rest up for the TV cameras. I already called the PR guys. The firm’s going to milk this thing for all it’s worth. I’m so proud of you. I’ve been gloating to all the other partners all morning. We’ll do a victory lap tomorrow. I knew you could do this, kid.”
After I hung up, I wondered how jazzed Tom was going to be when he found out that I’d been lying to the firm, that I’d killed a man in a drunk-driving accident and covered it up, and that my name wasn’t Nina Bloom.
Oh, well. I’d find out soon enough.
Then I heard the lobby buzzer in the kitchen.
“Who is it?” I said, pressing the Talk button.
“It’s me, Mom,” said Emma.
“Emma!” I yelled. Well, at least I had someone who’d stand by me.
“Baby, I missed you so much!” I said.
“Mom, c’mon,” Emma said. “Buzz me in already.”
I pressed the Door Open button and unlocked my apartment’s front door before I went back into the bedroom. I was unzipping my suitcase when I noticed the message indicator on my cell. Someone had called while I was in the shower.
“Listen, Nina,” Charlie said, sounding out of breath.
Thank God. Charlie did want to speak to me again.
I heard the front door open.
“Hey, Em!” I called behind me. “Hold on. I’m in the bedroom. I’ll be right there.”
“The FBI tracked Fournier to a hotel room up in Key Largo. When they went to arrest him half an hour ago, they found something horrifying. His wife and two young sons were dead, shot execution-style in the back of the head. Fournier wasn’t there. No one has seen him. They think he’s been gone for at least twenty-four hours. The FBI is putting out an APB on him right now. Whatever you do, don’t go back to your apartment. Call me pronto. I need to know that you’re OK.”
That’s when I heard Emma outside my bedroom door.
“Mom?”
“Em, listen, pack a bag now. I’ll explain to you in a second. I have to—” I started, dialing frantically.
“No, Mom. Whatever it is, it can wait,” Emma said, a strange, angry edge in her voice. “There’s someone I think you should meet.”
“What?” I said.
I turned around. The iPhone spilled out of my trembling fingers and bounced off my glass-and-metal bedside table with a loud crack before somersaulting onto the Oriental carpet and landing facedown.
I shook my head slowly, my unmoving eyes wide, bugging as if they were being pushed out from their sockets.
Emma was in the doorway staring at me.
There was a man behind her wearing a Boston Red Sox baseball cap, an Adidas warm-up jacket, camo pants, and shiny black combat boots.
“Mermaid!” Peter said with a tip of his cap as he stepped into the room.
Chapter 111
“HOW COULD YOU?” Emma cried at me. Her voice was angry, hurt. Her face was damp from crying. She was upset. At me?
