He leans closer; his breath’s heavy with the scent of alcohol.
“You know her dad’s hearing is coming up soon, right? She’s trying to convince the governor to grant him clemency, and the best way to do that is to get the public on his side. So, she picked a case she thought she could solve, and when an arrest was made, she passed most of the credit on to him. She’ll get his sentence commuted becauseshe had the money and power to launch an entire propaganda campaign to protect him.”
That can’t be true. Greer had no way of knowing who the Ellicott Creek Ripper was before she started filming, no guarantee that she would be able to solve the case. But did she even need to catch the killer to make her show a success? Zach’s right about the social media following that’s popped up around her father. Tom Woods might be one of the most abhorrent serial killers in history, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from decking him out in flower crowns and posting those images to Tumblr.
“Why?” I finally choke out. “Why would she do all that for him?”
“For the same reason I did. Because he’s her father. And because she loves him.”
I’d doubted her intentions when she first showed up on my doorstep, and if what Zach’s saying is true, then I was right to do so. She never cared about Claire. She never cared about me, either. I’ve known that since the night she deserted me, but for whatever reason, getting confirmation still hurts. Greer destroyed me so she could save her father.
Zach eyes the staircase. “You don’t have to take this lying down, you know.”
“She’s talking to Connor.”
“And? You’re going to let her get away with making you wait?”
He’s right. I stand up from the bench and am surprised when he does, too.
“I’ll come with you,” he explains.
I shake my head. “No, I need to do this by myself.” He looks disappointed. He probably wanted to watch me lay into Greer. Both of them did everything they could to save their fathers, yet his died, while hers still stands a chance. A good one, according to him. “I’ll find you afterward,” I promise. “Let you know how it goes.”
“You’d better.” He slumps back down, rolling his glass between his palms. “Good luck, Nic.”
When I reach the landing, her door’s closed, voices spilling out from under the gap.
“—should tell the others?” Connor asks.
Greer replies. “Day hikers come onto the island all the time. One of them must’ve gotten turned around on the trails. You know how easy it is to get lost out here.”
“What if they’re still out there?”
A pause.
“Just keep the tablet with you, and if things change, let me know.”
Still out there? Is someone else on the property?
“Fine. But maybe we should take some precautions. Keep everyone inside tonight.”
Connor doesn’t show any signs of ending their conversation, but I’m all out of patience. Greer and I once drove out to the Sheridan Drive-In Theatre, reclined the front seats, portable radio sputtering on high, and watched a late-night screening ofFatal Attraction. “I’m not going to be ignored!” Glenn Close screamed at Michael Douglas. The two of us bellowed the line back at the screen, at the wooden telephone poles and their sagging wires, at the sky, which was turning a sticky tangerine, before dissolving into laughter.
At the time, we’d been laughing at her—this woman who refused to fit neatly into the degrading little box her affair partner carved out for her. But now, I can understand her, empathize with her, even, because I’m also tired of being ignored. I’m tired of being villainized and pathologized and willfully misunderstood, even as everyone claims they want to know what I’mreally thinking.
I turn the knob and shove the door open.
Both of them fall silent. Connor glowers at me like I’m trespassing. “Excuse me,” he says. “We’re in the middle of—”
“No.”
His eyebrows lift. “No?”
“I’ve waited months to talk to her, and whatever you have to say, I can guarantee it’s not as important as—” I tick off the items. “Getting fired, losing my friends, filing for bankruptcy. My father being sent to jail for murdering my best friend. I have stayed silent and respected everyone’s time and space and feelings, even when no one’s respected mine, but I’m fucking through. I deserve answers, and I’m getting themnow.”
The corner of my lip spasms as we stare each other down. I feel like I’m about to scream or cry, and I hope it’s the former; the latter might actually kill me.
Greer’s the one who breaks the tension. “Fair enough.” Connor starts to argue, but she doesn’t let him. “About time for s’mores, right?”
