Chapter 60
Allison
When I hang up with Luke, I return to the kitchen. By now, Grayson’s had time to remove the blood from his hands and fingers. The dirty towels are shoved inside a kitchen-sized garbage bag along with the football jersey he’d been wearing.
The overhead light is too bright, throwing everything into harsh relief.
His hair is messy, plastered to his forehead.
His skin is blotchy pink, raw in patches where he’s scrubbed too hard; I told him to be thorough, just in case.
He looks up at me. His eyes are wide, unblinking.
I can only imagine the journey he’s taken tonight, through blood and shock and horror and fear.
“I can’t…I mean, I can’t…”
I rub his back. “I’m so sorry about this, Gray. I’m almost done here, and we’ll get you home. Can you give me twenty, thirty more minutes?”
“What…what are you even doing?”
“Just making sure things turn out okay. I need your phone a little longer. Then we can get you home.”
“But…y’know, if they don’t think I did this, they’ll think you did. I mean, somebody killed him, Mom. Aren’t you, like, worried?”
“Nobody will think either of us did it. They’ll figure out who did it.”
“Do…” His face changes. “Do you know who did it?”
I stroke his hair. “I have a pretty good idea, honey. And I promise I’ll help the police catch this person. But it’s better I don’t tell you yet, okay? I promise it’s for the best.”
“Do I…do I know him?”
“No, honey. Now let me get back to it, okay? You’ll be able to leave soon.”
I return to the bedroom, bracing myself first. I don’t even look at Fin as I enter. I reach into his pants pocket and fish out his iPhone, in its Chicago Bears casing.
I type in the passcode that I’ve always known with a moment of panic—if he changed the passcode, if I can’t access his phone, this is going to be much harder—
It works. His phone comes alive.
I walk back into the family room and place both phones down on the glass table, Fin’s and Grayson’s.
With Grayson’s phone, I send a text message to Finley’s phone: Hello? I’m here waiting. What happened to meeting at condo over an hour ago WTF??
A moment later, Finley’s phone buzzes with the receipt.
Good. Still using Grayson’s phone, I call my phone, back in Grace Village with Luke. He answers immediately.
“Ready to go,” I say. “We need to be quick about this.”
“And you’re sure about this?” he says. “You and Trinity aren’t exactly—”
“Do you want me to help her or not?”
“I do, I do. I just…thank you.”
“So listen,” I say. “You’re going to send text messages to Finley from my phone. And I’m going to respond back from Finley’s phone.”
“So later, the cops will see a bunch of texts between you and Fin.”
“Exactly.”
“But wait,” he says. “Didn’t you tell me once the police can locate your cell phone? Won’t they know Finley’s phone is in your condo unit?”
“No, cell site location isn’t that precise,” I say. “They can put you in an area, a sector. They’ll know he was either in this building or close by.”
“But where the hell else would he be? What’s near your condo building?”
I walk over to the picture window and look down, beyond Lake Shore Drive, to the spot I once stood with binoculars, watching Finley and Trinity enter my condo.
“Ohio Street Beach,” I say. “He’s too much of a coward to meet with Grayson.
He can’t bear to face him. So he’s hanging there, by Jane Addams Park and the beach, until Gray leaves. ”
“You want them to think he’s hanging out at the beach? It’s pretty freaking cold out.”
“You got a better idea? I’m dealing with the hand I’m dealt here. Besides,” I say, “he loves that beach. The lake gives him peace. He goes there all the time, even when it’s cold.”
“He does?”
“Well…he does now,” I say. “So let’s do this. Text Finley this message. Ready?”
“Ready.”
I speak slowly so he can type along with my narration. “ ‘Where are you, question mark. Gray is at the condo, period. You were supposed to meet him there at seven, he said, period.’ Got all that?”
“Got it. Sending it now.”
Finley’s phone buzzes a moment later. I respond back on Fin’s phone: At OSB thinking and no I’m not contemplating jumping in tho its tempting.
Luke chuckles. “Okay. ‘OSB.’ Ohio Street Beach. What next?”
“Do three question marks. Then type, ‘Must be thirty degrees outside, period. Why would you be at beach, question mark.’ ”
“Got it.” I receive the message on Finley’s phone a moment later.
I reply: You know I like it here and hard to face grayson I’m not proud of what’s happened sometimes I think its better I disappear from all your lives.
“That’s dark,” says Luke after he receives the text. “Are you—are you gonna try to make it look like he committed suicide?”
“No, not suicide,” I say. “But his night is about to get a lot worse.”
“All done,” I say to Luke after multiple rounds of text exchanges. “Grayson will be leaving soon. He’ll probably call you from his phone.”
“The cops are gonna think he was talking to his mom an awful lot tonight.”
“I know, but in this context? He’s pissed at his dad, he’s discovering we split up, his dad ghosted him when they were supposed to meet? A long talk with Mom wouldn’t seem odd. Take care of him when he gets home, okay?”
“Will do. And then I’ll see you later tonight? About what time?”
“I don’t know. Eleven? Not sure. Remember, you’ll get one last text on my phone from Finley’s phone. From that point, count thirty minutes and meet me.”
“Got it. And hey—are you gonna move him all by yourself?”
“I am.”
“Use Grayson. He’s right there. How are you gonna do it by yourself?”
“I have a wardrobe cart and drop cloths.”
“How are you gonna wrap him up like a mummy by yourself? He’s a big guy.”
“Very slowly,” I say.
“And lift him onto the wardrobe cart? He’s like two-thirty, maybe two hundred forty.”
“A little at a time.”
“And then what?”
“Then I take the luggage cart down the elevator, and over to the ramp in the underground parking lot. I’ll back Fin’s car up to the ramp and slide him into the rear hatch.”
“Without anyone seeing you?”
“Luke, the median age of people in this building is about seventy years old. We’re the exception. By nine or ten, nobody will be in that parking garage. And there aren’t cameras down there. If I see anyone, I won’t do it. But I won’t see anyone.”
“Gray’s right there—”
“I’m not using Grayson,” I say. “He’s been through enough.”
Which reminds me. I send one last text message from Grayson’s phone to Finley’s phone: OK I’m leaving, going to Mom’s, thanks for ghosting me!
“Okay, mister.” I put my hands on Gray’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’ll be home later. We have a lot to talk about. I’d give you a hug, but…” I look down at my shirt, which has some blood from when I hugged Grayson when first arriving.
Gray’s handsome face is washed out from tears and everything he’s endured tonight. “Are you gonna be okay, Mom?”
“I’ll be fine. Call the Uber. And zip up your hoodie, okay?”
He looks down. We replaced his football jersey with a golf shirt of Finley’s.
“When you get down to the lobby, you’ll be on camera again,” I remind him.
“Anyone looking at the videos will notice that you’re wearing a different shirt from when you came in.
So zip the hoodie all the way up so you can’t see what’s underneath.
And call my phone, which Luke still has. Be on the phone when you walk out.”
“Why be on the phone?”
“For one, talking to him will occupy you. You can focus on whatever topic you pick, maybe the Cubs or some girl at NYU you like. And if you’re on the phone, nobody at the security desk will try to chat you up.”
Gray works his phone. “Uber will be here in four minutes. I better go.”
I take his face in my hands and kiss his forehead. “We’ll get through this, Gray, I promise.”