Chapter Twenty-five #2
I can’t take another lie. I want so badly to shove him – to force it out of him. A bizarre flashback to our dance at George’s party bursts in my head—
Arjun, on the dance floor. During the short few seconds when we switched partners, he was talking about setting me up with Liam. His words come tumbling back. It wasn’t entirely altruistic. Anyway, if I’m honest, Liam was the—
Like a puzzle my subconscious already solved but was waiting for me to notice, I complete his sentence in my head, but this time, in the correct way.
If I’m honest, Liam was the one who asked for the date.
It’s obvious now; painfully obvious. They met at Simon’s gallery.
Liam had already kidnapped Zoe at that point.
Maybe even killed her. He went there to buy her painting as a trophy.
He and Arjun got to talking, and I know Arjun – he’s always name-dropping, showing people how connected he is.
It would be the most natural thing in the world for him to say, I know the artist’s roommate.
And then, Liam might grin, drop a cheeky question like, is she cute?
Is she single? Can you set me up? And then Arjun calls George, with a promise of a better blind date for their sad, pathetic friend who needs a pick-me-up—
‘You stalked me,’ I growl. How did I not see this until now?
Liam looks genuinely confused, but I don’t care. He’s already proved he’s a seasoned liar.
‘You asked Arjun to set us up,’ I press on, my voice tight. ‘You knew I was Zoe’s roommate, so you targeted me.’
Understanding breaks over Liam’s face. ‘OK, yes, but—’
His yes is enough.
‘How dare you tell me to trust you when you’re a – a – a serial killer!’
Liam steps forward again as onlookers gasp, and then the man in the Sox hat steps between us, holding out two beefy arms.
‘You’d better stay where you are, sir,’ he says to Liam. ‘I don’t know what’s going on here, but we’re going to let the lady leave.’
Liam freezes and raises both hands, a muscle ticking in his jaw, his face a ghostly shade of white.
Then, I turn and run.
*
After getting away from the main streets where Liam might still find me, I call an Uber with shaking fingers.
Maybe I shouldn’t be spending the extra money when I could hop on a bus instead, but that doesn’t matter right now.
I know the morgue that has the contract with the county for unidentified persons – I’ve picked up a few corpses from there before.
I’ll go straight there. I have to see the foot for myself and identify it. While I wait, I dial Barnett.
It’s Sunday, so it’s no surprise that his voicemail picks up.
‘Barnett,’ I say, speaking his name like an accusation.
‘I need you to call me. I was on the unclaimed persons site and … she was there. Zoe. Her—’ I gag the words out.
‘Her foot. And her ashes. So no, she didn’t just go off and start some new life.
Also, Liam Porter, that guy I told you about?
He dated her. I saw their messages on a dating app on his phone, so he’s been lying the whole time.
You have to take him in for questioning.
You have to get security camera footage from Wine this, I can’t hide from her.
Fuck. The whiplash is insane. First, I think my blind date is a serial killer, so I decide to fake date him.
Then, I’m convinced he’s not a serial killer, so I decide to date him for real.
There’s a dream weekend on the beach, and the very next moment, I’m realizing he fucking is a murderous liar and I’m turning him in to the authorities.
I guess my investigation wasn’t a failure after all. It was a success. A horrible, horrible success.
At home, my apartment is quiet. I go straight to Zoe’s room and stand in the doorframe. The afternoon light filters through her curtains, illuminating the basic shapes in the room. The bed. Her desk. But it also illuminates the stillness.
She won’t be coming back.
Now that I know this for certain, I’ll have to clear all of this out. And move. Not only can I not afford a two-bedroom apartment on my own, but I don’t want to stay here.
But first, I need to plan a memorial. Try, once again, to contact Zoe’s parents.
Yes, they weren’t good parents – but they should know their daughter is dead and have a chance to pay their respects anyway.
And I’ll have to pick up her foot and the bag of ashes, once the coroner is done.
I guess it’s a blessing in disguise that Anderson & Pulaski has the contract with the county to cremate unclaimed bodies.
Makes things easy. If the word easy can be applied to any of this.
I compose a text message to Bill, letting him know in as simple terms as possible that Zoe’s remains have just been found, and as I was her closest friend, I’ll want to rent space to have a memorial for her.
Bill is bound to be a bit shocked, but I can’t worry about that now.
Then I call George, who utterly drains me with her off-the-charts empathy.
After we hang up, my body is so overwhelmed, I sink down right where I am, in Zoe’s doorframe.
First, I lean against it – then I lie down the rest of the way, collapsing gently until I’m curled in a fetal position on my side.
I lie there until, finally, as the day dims, I fall asleep.