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“Take care, young lady,” Bill says, his eyes narrowed. He seems still unsure how to read this and happy to be done with me.
“Thank you,” I say as I swing open the door. “Thank you so much.”
After first checking my surroundings, I scramble up the stairs to the platform, my heart hammering in my chest. Thankfully, thereare a few small clusters of people waiting by the southbound track, obviously headed to the city. I migrate toward one group while trying not to invade their space. I pretend to read something on my phone, but my eyes move back and forth between the parking lot and the stairs to the platform, on alert for Liam, or Carl, or even Caroline.
Finally, a horn sounds, and seconds later the train noses into view. As I step onboard, I shoot a final glance toward the stairs. It’s clear no one’s coming, which almost freaks me more. What do they intend to do next? Are they racing to New York, planning to ambush me there?
I drop into a seat in an empty row. The conductor appears, and as I show her the ticket on my phone, I notice my hand is trembling a little. Was I in as much danger as I thought? I wonder. Had Caroline intended for Carl to take me someplace, kill me, and dispose of my body?
And if so,why?
Maybe my theory about Chloe is just another dead end, and this all comes down to money.Familymoney. Caroline had told me to take it and run, but it must have been a lie. And I remember telling her that morning in Scarsdale that I needed to spend the day at my studio, which means she must have sent her driver to New York as soon as he’d dropped me at the station, to break into my apartment and snoop around. Maybe she was secretly helping Jane out, wanting the trust to eventually go to her grandchildren. And Liam, as part of the family, was enlisted to remain in the country and assist in her efforts.
My mind flashes back to the scene at the house. Liam’s arrival. Him calling out for me to wait. There had been nothing threatening about his tone as I reached for the car door, but there was no way I was going to stop. I feel hopelessly confused, as if my brain will explode any second.
And then, as if I’ve summoned it, my phone rings and the name James Tremlin appears on my screen. I pick up right away. I’m desperate to know what this all means.
“Are you all right?” he asks quietly, before I can say a word.
“Am I allright? That’s funny. You didn’t seem to care a minute ago.”
“You have to believe me. I came to my mother’s house to make sure you were okay.”
“What?”
“I need you to hear me out. As you realize by now, I’m Chris’s brother, and I’m so sorry about lying to you. But I found the name of a reporter and pretended to be him so I could learn more about you and insinuate myself into your life somehow.”
“You mean, so you could help your mother try to ruin it?”
“No, to protect you. I knew my mother wanted to prevent you from learning the truth, but until you called me tonight, I had no idea she’d do something as extreme as damaging your artwork.”
“What do you mean by the truth?” I say, my voice nearly strangled. “What is the truth?”
“I know what happened to your sister that night in Dover. And I need to tell you.”
37
Now
ILET OUT A GASP.
“Was it Chris?” I ask. Oh god, it’s true after all. “Did Chris kill my sister?”
“We can’t do this over the phone,” Liam says. “I have to meet you in person.”
“There’s no way I’m going to come back there,” I say, but that’s not a total lie. Because I have to know, no matter what it takes.
“Are you on the train?” he asks.
I hesitate. “Yes,” I say finally.
“Okay. I’m in my car now, and I can meet you in the city in less than an hour.”
“All right,” I say, wondering if it might be a trick. “But only someplace public, with people around.”
“There was a restaurant on the lower level of Grand Central, which I assume is still there. The Oyster Bar. And there’s a little bar right in the center of it. Why don’t we meet there? I’ll text you when I’m parked.”
“All right.”
