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The silence that followed felt like an eternity until Talia finally spoke up. “Isn’t that like ... cutting off your air supply while ... masturbating?”
“Uh, yeah.” I nodded.
Ryder’s mouth twisted into a sneer of revulsion. He grunted; his expression one of surprise and disgust. “What an absolute dumb fuck!”
Ghost agreed. “Yeah, it’s absolutely risky as fuck. They don’t call it the ‘grim reaper reach around’ for nothing.”
Ryder’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed heavily with exasperation. “The guy was as dumb as a box of rocks, but damn! You have to be pretty stupid to take those kinds of risks.”
“The chokey-strokey,” Ghost added.
Ryder was still shaking his head in disbelief. “All for some high-risk wanking.”
“Okay,” Greyson cut in. “So the guy managed to strangle himself. What does that have to do with Dawn?”
I pulled out my phone and found the recording, which I also had multiple copies on other devices for safekeeping. “I’ll play you the recording, but remember, only a few people know the actual cause of death. It’s not reported anywhere; I checked. Ryder didn’t even know, but it’s in my notebook.”
I turned up the volume and hit play. Remembering Dawn taunting me about my Scooby Doo tactics, I felt a bit like Velma, about to rip off the mask on the culprit. My eyes ping-ponged around the room, watching everyone’s expressions as they listened.
At first, I hadn’t been able to get Dawn to crack, and she’d stuck remarkably to the story, making me look bad even though it highlighted her taunting, nasty nature. But eventually, we got to the crucial part.
Grey’s lips pressed into a thin line as he listened to Dawn’s voice.
... he was in love with the guitarist, Ryder. Grey went to Boston to visit his lover, and you pitched a fit.
Talia shook her head as she listened. “This woman is a complete bitch!” she muttered.
We came to the part where Dawn’s accusations were about to expose her.
... threw Ryder’s cousin under the bus, too? You had the perfect motive.
Ghost was leaning forward on the couch, Greyson’s hand on his arm as if to hold him back. Finally, the words I’d been waiting for spilled out of Dawn’s mouth as we listened.
... that he died of autoerotic asphyxiation? That’s kind of low, even for you.
The recording went on for a couple more minutes with Dawn’s sputtering denials and vicious attacks.
... it doesn’t prove anything. It’s your word against mine, and who do you think they’ll believe?
They sat in stunned silence, absorbing all that they heard. I inhaled deeply, feeling some of the burden I’d been carrying lifted, a small sense of vindication.
Talia broke the heavy silence. “She obviously wrote the article. But, I don’t get it. The autoerotic asphyxiation wasn’t in there. Why would she bring it up?”
I paced over to the straight-back chair and sunk into it, the surge of relief making my legs suddenly weaker. “My guess is that she got access to my notebook, but she didn’t have a lot of time to look it over. She read through it quickly and got some information I was researching — most of the true stuff that was written.” I glanced over to see that Ghost and Greyson were listening intently. “Then she wrote the article pretty quickly. It wasn’t well written and its sole purpose was to inflict damage. She filled in any gaps by flat-out inventing stuff. I think she read about the autoerotic asphyxiation in the notebook but forgot to put it in the article, later thinking that she did.”
“That’s fucked up,” Ryder cursed under his breath.
“I can’t think of any other explanation of how she’d know about Rocky’s death except for reading it in my notebook. And, I know I didn’t write that article. I’m positive it was her.” I clenched my jaw, waiting to see how they would react.
Talia snorted, “Remi, it’s obvious after listening to that tape that she wrote it.”
Ryder agreed.
I turned to face the two men who mattered the most to me. “Even if you never want to speak to me again or see my face again, I wanted you to know. It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that to any of you.”
Ghost stood and approached me, his boots thudding heavily on the hardwood floor. My heart pounded as he stopped in front of me, his piercing blue eyes scanning my face.
“Remi,” he began, his voice gravelly, “I’m so sorry.” His words held a sincerity that broke through the walls I had built around myself, and I could no longer contain the tears that welled in my eyes.
