Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
As I drove back to the apartment, those questions rattled around in my head, especially the suggestion that Paige really had been sleeping with Hale.
I'd told people I thought she was flirting with him to get attention, and that's why she'd gotten the lead, but I'd never actually had any evidence of that. Or had I?
Frowning, I tried to remember what had put that thought into my mind.
Hale had certainly spent a lot of time with Paige, instructing her on her performance, giving her tips, praising her choices.
But there hadn't always been praise. Sometimes, he'd been critical, and I'd seen a pained look come across Paige's face, as if she was shocked to hear anything but flattery from him.
Was that her ego? Or did she feel that whatever relationship they had should have made him go easier on her?
When those questions remained unanswered, I started to wonder about Liam again. I needed to think about it all objectively. But that wasn't easy to do because all my memories were loaded with feelings, some of which I didn't even understand.
Although I had intended to go back to the apartment, I found myself driving through Evanston and back to the West Loop.
It was almost one now, and I wasn't sure Liam's bar would be open, but I needed to try to talk to him again.
He'd made it clear he didn't want to speak to me, but I had too many questions, and he might be the only one who could answer them.
When I got to the bar, there was a closed sign in the window, but I could see someone moving around inside, so I knocked on the door.
A moment later, a young, friendly guy opened it and gave me a smile. "Sorry. We don't open until four."
"I'm actually looking for Liam. I'm an old friend of his."
"He sure does have pretty friends," the guy said with a smile.
I smiled right back, having learned years ago just how valuable my smile could be. "That's sweet of you to say. Do you know where I can find him?"
"He went upstairs a few minutes ago."
"Upstairs?"
"There's a door and a bell around the side of the building. Give it a ring."
"Thanks." I followed his directions and rang the bell next to the side door. A moment later, a voice came over the intercom.
"Yes?"
"It's Tessa. I need to talk to you."
Silence followed my words. I thought he might not answer me and then the door buzzed.
I quickly turned the knob before he changed his mind and stepped into a short hallway.
There was a door across from it, which probably opened into the bar, so I jogged up the steps.
I didn't have to knock because he'd opened the door and was standing there, looking not at all happy to see me.
His harsh expression reminded me of the last days of our failing relationship.
Before that, he'd always greeted me with a sexy, intimate smile.
When I'd shown up at his apartment, he'd pull me inside for a kiss that he couldn't seem to wait to get.
And then we'd end up in the bedroom where we'd always been very much in sync.
Even when we couldn't seem to find the right things to say, our bodies had known how to talk to each other.
But those days seemed like a very faint memory now.
"I thought I made myself clear the other day, Tessa. I don't want to talk to you."
"You don't have to talk; you just have to listen."
"Why would I want to listen to you?"
"Because a police detective will probably be the next person knocking on this door, and they won't go away without a conversation."
He swore. "I knew you were going to cause trouble the second I heard you were back."
"Let me in, Liam."
Finally, he stepped back.
I walked past him before he could change his mind, taking a quick look around his apartment.
It appeared to be a one-bedroom with a small kitchen and bath off the living room.
The room was very masculine, with dark wood, a dark-brown leather couch and recliner, a huge TV, and a baseball bat and glove sitting in one corner.
He'd been on the baseball team his first few years in college before he'd hurt his shoulder and had to quit, but he'd always loved going to watch the Cubs. "You still play baseball?" I asked.
"Softball. And we're not making conversation. Say what you have to say."
I knew he wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible, so I decided to take a seat on the couch. It put me at a disadvantage with him towering over me, but I wanted to make it clear I wasn't leaving any time soon. Finally, he perched on the edge of his recliner.
"Talk," he ordered again.
"I spoke to Sloane."
"Okay. Why should I care?"
"Did you know that Sloane saw Paige and Professor Hale in his car one night, that they were arguing, that it felt intimate?
" I drew in a breath, wishing Liam would jump in with information and make this a real conversation, but he was simply waiting for me to continue.
"Did she tell you anything about Professor Hale? Were they sleeping together?"
"She didn't say anything about him. But she spoke cryptically about making a huge mistake and feeling trapped."
"And you didn't ask her what the mistake was?"
He shrugged. "Not really. She didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't really want to know more."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this back then?"
"Because you were acting crazy, too. That damn play had turned you both insane.
You couldn't stand the fact that you'd lost that part to Paige.
And you were happy to share your unhappiness and opinion with everyone around you, especially me.
I got tired of hearing you bitch about it.
Every time I tried to talk to you, we ended up in a fight.
I didn't know where the girl I fell for had gone.
You were obsessed. And so was Paige. I knew both of you had another side, but I couldn't see that side anymore. "
I stared back at him, feeling both hurt and ashamed.
There was some truth to what he was saying.
"I'd spent four years trying to get the lead role in the spring production, and I was so close.
And then it was ripped away from me. I couldn't handle my disappointment.
I felt blinded by anger. I was a failure, the latest one in my family who wasn't going to amount to anything. "
My words eased the hard tension around his gaze. "I'm surprised you'd admit that."
"Well, I'm not twenty-one years old anymore. I've had to grow up and deal with failure and make something else of my life. I regret the way I behaved back then."
"So, what now?"
"I keep trying to find out what happened to Paige."
"Well, I can't help you with that." He got to his feet. "I need to go to work."
I slowly stood up. "Liam…" My voice trailed away as I wasn't sure what to say.
"Don't say you're sorry, Tessa," he warned. "Because I don't think you gave me a second thought until you came back here."
"That's not true. I cared about you, Liam."
"You cared about yourself more."
"You make me sound like an awful person."
"You weren't an awful person, but you did some shitty things.
And I even understand why you felt so desperate to get center stage.
You'd been fighting for attention your whole life.
But you were never going to get the attention you needed from an audience, because that's not who you needed it from.
And I couldn't even give you what you needed.
Because it was your parents you wanted to impress or surpass; I'm not sure which.
But I know you wanted to make them see you.
" He took a minute to let that sink in. "Did you ever get the attention you wanted?
Did the New York audiences fill that hole? "
"No. I crashed and burned in New York. I wasn't good enough to even compete.
I quit after two years and got a job in events and marketing.
I became a nine-to-five corporate employee, climbing the ladder, like a million other people in those tall skyscrapers, reminding me I was nobody important.
Then that company folded, and I was on unemployment, donning costumes, and putting on kids' birthday parties on the weekends.
That's when I started the podcast with my friends, who were in the same layoff group.
It began as a lark, a way to fill the time, talking about true crime and drinking wine.
As we started to grow, I saw a way for us to get bigger, to grow our audience.
We went to the scene of a crime in Maine and brought a serial killer down, and, well, it put us at the top of the charts.
Now, we're running a business with sponsors and an audience with a voracious appetite for content. "
"So, you're turning yourself into a star in the podcast world."
"Maybe I am," I admitted.
"And you're using Paige to get ahead. She wouldn't like that at all."
"I'm not using her. I'm trying to find out what happened and get her justice.
" At his mocking look of disbelief, I said, "Do you know that I almost died on the last case we solved, the one in Maine?
Do you know I ended up in a hospital for two weeks and my partner, Cassidy, was almost murdered by the serial killer we put away?
That was real. It wasn't drama. It wasn't fake.
And this situation is just as real, and we are just as committed to getting to the truth now as we were then.
I might not have chosen to open up Paige's case, but Alina asked me to do it, and I couldn't say no.
And you can think whatever you want, too, Liam.
You don't have to like me or trust me, but if you have any feelings about what happened to Paige, I hope you'll share them with me. "
"I don't need to share them with you. I can talk to the police."
"Then do that. Detective Colton Barclay is going to lead the investigation. He was a patrol officer when Paige died. He was actually at the scene when she was pulled from the water. But he's a detective now."
"I know Colton Barclay. He plays in a basketball league with me. He seems like a decent guy."
That information didn't make me feel better, because if Barclay and Liam had some kind of friendship, then how objective would the detective be?
But why was I concerned about that? I didn't really believe Liam had hurt Paige.
He wouldn't have had any reason to. Even if Paige had threatened to tell me they'd hooked up or something, that wouldn't have been enough to drive him to do anything. He wasn't a man who would hurt a woman.
As silence dragged between us, Liam said, "You should go, Tessa. If Barclay has questions, I'll talk to him. He can share whatever he wants with you."
"Fine."
He walked me to the door, then opened it.
I paused in the doorway, feeling like we'd said both too much and too little.
He shook his head, as if he were reading my mind. "It doesn't matter anymore, Tessa. It was nine years ago that we were together. Water under the bridge."
"Your anger doesn't feel old."
"Well, your sudden appearance brought it back to front and center," he admitted. "I hadn't actually thought of you in a long time until you showed back up in typical dramatic Tessa fashion."
"I can't change who I was then, what I did, how I hurt you, how I hurt Paige. But now, it's only about getting to the truth."
"Her death could have been an accident. You don't know it was anything more."
"Yes, I do. I've had several attempts on my life in the last few days."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Someone almost ran me over after I left you on Tuesday night. And when I was at my aunt's theater where I met up with several people from my past, including Professor Hale, Nate Gardiner, and Carrie Dunsmuir, someone knocked a sandbag off the catwalk and almost knocked me out."
"Are you sure those weren't accidents?"
"I wasn't sure after the car, but I was certain after what happened at the theater.
You're not the only one who hates me. Alina's brother, Ray, is furious.
Professor Hale and Carrie are also irritated about me reopening this case.
Sloane had the same reaction when I talked to her today.
Everyone wants me to back off. Interestingly enough, the only one who expressed a different opinion was Nate, and he was the person closest to Paige. "
"Maybe because he was out of town that weekend, so you can't point your finger at him. Everyone else is fair game."
"I don't think Ray killed his sister, so he shouldn't be worried about me.
I understand that his mother had a breakdown after Paige died, so maybe he's just trying to protect his family from more heartache.
But Alina doesn't feel the same way. She's convinced someone took Paige's life, and I agree with her. "
"I hope you're wrong. But if you're right, then you should get the hell out of Chicago, before Paige's killer tries to silence you, too.
" He gave me a knowing look. "But you're not going to do that, are you?
You never choose the easy way out, Tessa.
You always have to make things complicated and difficult. "
"Sometimes I don't make it that way. Sometimes that's just the way it is." And on that note, I walked through the door and down the stairs, feeling his gaze on me every step of the way.
He'd said some cruel things to me, and I couldn't help wondering if turning the conversation toward me had been the perfect way to deflect my interest in his relationship with Paige. He'd sort of explained it, but it still felt cloudy and mysterious.
I told myself again, he wasn't a man who could hurt a woman. But what if there had been an accident? What if it hadn't been deliberate? I didn't want to doubt him, but at this point, I'd probably be stupid to trust anyone, especially someone who very clearly hated me.