Liam stares down at his sneakers, which are caked in a combination of mud and blood. He doesn’t contradict me, and I’m glad, because we both know it would be a lie. I’m sick of the lies.
I squeeze my knees with my fingers. “But I’m sorry I accused you of… well, you know. I was wrong. Obviously.”
He doesn’t look up. “Well, it’s not like you were the only one who thought so. The whole town thought I killed her.”
“Yes, but I’m your mother. I should have believed you.”
He chews on his lip, his eyes still downcast. “Yeah, but… let’s face it—over the years, I gave you plenty of reasons to believe I’d do something like this.”
It’s true, but it’s a shock to hear him admit it. We always pretended like Liam was the perfect son, and he played the role to a tee. “But you didn’t do it.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Also,” I add, “I want to thank you.”
Liam finally looks up at me. The bruise on his cheek has faded slightly, but it’s still there. “For what?”
“You saved my life. You saved Hannah’s life. Even though…”
He frowns. “Even though what?”
“Even though…” I clear my throat. “Nothing. Never mind.”
He cocks his head to the side. “What?”
I bite my lip, afraid to say the words that have been circling around my brain for the last decade. Your son doesn’t love you. He’s not capable of it. “I know you don’t feel… you know…”
Liam is quiet for a moment. “Feel what?”
“Dr. Hebert explained it to me,” I say quickly. “I know you have trouble with… you know, emotions.”
“Emotions?”
“You know, like… love.”
“What?” Liam blinks at me. “Um, that’s bullshit. You really don’t think that I love you and Hannah?”
I don’t know what to say to that. “It’s okay if you don’t. It’s just who you are.”
“Jesus, Mom.” He rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. Of course I love you. You’re my mom.”
“But Dr. Hebert said—”
“Oh, well, if the quack psychiatrist said it, then it must be true, right?” He snorts. “I just risked my life for you. I love you, Mom. If anything happened to you or Hannah…”
He’s quiet then, looking down at his hands. “It would be awful,” he finally says.
I don’t always know if Liam is telling the truth, but at this moment, I know for sure that he is. My son loves me. I always thought he was incapable of it. But I was wrong.
Chapter 65
Olivia
I’ve been in the hospital for five days now and my parents have barely left my side. My mother has been sleeping in my room in a recliner, because she’s scared to leave me. I would complain, but the truth is, I’m glad she’s here. The last thing I want is to be alone in this hospital room.
I had to have surgery on my ankle. It was broken in two places, and then it got infected on top of that. I needed antibiotics through an IV, and I was also really dehydrated when I came in. My ankle is in a cast now, and the doctor told me it’s going to be a while before I can put weight on it again. So I guess I better get used to crutches.
As of yesterday, I finally started feeling up to having visitors besides my parents. The first person who came to see me was Madison, of course. She gave me a huge hug and we both cried and it was like our fight never happened. She told me she never gave up hope that I was okay.
She’s back again today. She’s sitting at my bedside while my mother is downstairs in the cafeteria, and she’s drawing a doodle on my cast. I’ve never had a cast before, and I’m actually excited for people to sign it. I remember being so jealous of the kids in my class who had a cast and got to have people sign it.
Other than that, it sucks having a cast. The damn thing gets so itchy. I stuck a pencil in there this morning to try to reach an itch on the side of my calf, and the next thing I knew, the pencil was gone! When I take this cast off, half the contents of my desk drawer are going to fall out.
“Leave some room for other people,” I say to Madison, whose drawing is getting a little out of control. She’s going to be like the John Hancock of my cast.
“Hey, I’m giving your cast an artistic flair.” She’s not joking around. She actually brought different color markers for just this reason. “You’ll thank me later.”
As she gets back to work with her design, my nurse comes into the room. “Olivia,” she says in a singsong voice. “You’ve got another visitor.”
I must be feeling a lot better, because the thought of having two people with me in this room doesn’t fill me with dread. “Who is it?”
“It’s a boy. And he’s very cute.” The nurse winks at me. “He says his name is Liam. Is he your boyfriend?”
Madison freezes, mid doodle. “You’re not going to see him, are you?”
“Mad, he saved my life,” I murmur.
“Yeah, but if it wasn’t for his dad, he wouldn’t have had to.”
I don’t want to admit that I share her hesitation. Liam came to see me yesterday too, and my mother quickly turned him away. I was upset at her, but also a little relieved.
But at the same time, Liam did save my life. When he saw I was trapped, he jumped into that hole without hesitation and picked me up. He carried me into the hospital. He was my hero.
“Send him in,” I say.
Madison gives me a look. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It will be fine, but… can you give us a minute alone?”
She holds up one finger. “One minute. That’s all you’re getting, girlie.”
Liam steps into my hospital room tentatively, holding a small bouquet of multicolored flowers. Madison shoots him a dirty look, but she steps aside to let him in. He steps towards my bed, holding out the flowers. “Hey. These are for you. The florist said it was, um, a summer assortment.”
“Thank you,” I say stiffly. “You can put them on the windowsill.”
As he places the assortment next to all the others, I flash back to the last time I saw him. He was crouched in front of his mother’s car, his shirt caked in drying blood, and he was coaxing me out of the car to take me into the hospital. He was so gentle with me. It was exactly what I needed.
He drops his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he says.
I study Liam’s features. I noticed five days ago that he had a black eye, and it’s mostly faded by now, but I can still see slight bruising. “What happened to your face?”
He laughs and touches his cheekbone. “That? Oh, it’s nothing.”
“So tell me.”
“Um, Tyler punched me when he thought I was the one who…”
“Oh.”
I only heard a little bit about what happened while I was missing. It sounds like the whole town believed Liam was the one who kidnapped me. The police actually arrested him and took him to jail. While I was locked up, so was he.
“How is your family doing?” I ask.
The smile disappears from Liam’s face. “Shitty. My mother cries a lot.”
“Do you miss him?”
I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. During the days Jason Cass had me trapped in that hole, I grew to despise him. But I can’t forget he’s Liam’s dad. If I found out my dad were a murderer, would I hate him? It’s hard to imagine.
“I don’t know, Olivia,” he says. “He lied to all of us. There were other women, you know. A lot of others. The police aren’t even sure how many… honestly, it makes me sick to think about it.”
I suck in a breath, realizing that if Hannah hadn’t followed her father that night, I would have joined his long list of victims. And Jason Cass probably would’ve gotten away with it. Liam may very well have taken the fall.
“I didn’t even know him,” Liam says. “How can I miss him if I didn’t know who he was? None of us knew.”
I
nod. “I know what you mean.”
He smiles crookedly. “Anyway, I’m sure Madison will burst in here any minute to throw me out. And I know for a fact your mom will kill me if she finds me here. So… I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And now I better go.”
I look up at him. I keep remembering that moment when he jumped into the hole to save me. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before. I don’t care what kind of person his father was, Liam is very different. He’s a good person. He’s a hero.
And also, that nurse was right. He is very cute. And I still get a little tingle in my lips, remembering how it felt when he kissed me.
“Hey,” I say.
He lifts an eyebrow at me. “Yes?”
“When I get out of here,” I say, “maybe you’ll let me take you out for vanilla milkshakes.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
“Well,” I say, “I want to thank you for saving my life.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. “I’d be okay with that.”
I shrug, but I’m grinning too. “So it’s a date?”
“Okay.” He nods vigorously. “It’s a date.”
And we can’t stop smiling at each other.
Epilogue
One year later
Erika
I’ve got two eggs in the frying pan that I’m cooking up for breakfast. Low and slow. That’s the trick.
I set up a radio on the counter in the kitchen. Liam and Hannah both listen to music on their phones using some crazy app, but I’m old school and like listening to the radio. I like hearing the new pop songs, the insipid DJ banter, and even the commercials. Right now, there’s a Bruno Mars song on the radio, and I’m singing along to myself.
“Mo-om,” Hannah groans as she looks up from her bowl of Cheerios. “You’re getting all the words wrong. If you’re going to sing along, don’t say all the wrong words.”
“I’m getting some of them right.”
“You think you are, but you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re not. It’s really cringe-y.”
“Well, I don’t care.” And just to make a point, I belt out the wrong lyrics on purpose: “I’ll slap a grenade in ya!”
“Oh my God, Mom.”
Hannah stands up with her bowl of cereal, unable to tolerate another moment of my singing. She plunks the bowl down on the counter and lets out one more monstrous sigh before she heads upstairs.
I smile to myself as I stir the eggs. One year ago, I never would have imagined we’d be in this same kitchen, making eggs like everything was normal again. Hannah has improved her grades in school, and Liam just got back last night from the state-wide debate competition in Albany, which his team won. Things are back to normal and going as well as they could be, given all the revelations that have come out in the last year.
For example, that my husband was a serial killer.
Yes, that one came as a huge shock. It was bad enough finding out he was responsible for taking Olivia. But Detective Rivera has kept me in the loop, and Jason Cass has now been linked by DNA evidence to twelve murders over the last twenty-five years. And those are only the ones where he left evidence behind. God only knows how many others there were. But because he’s dead, we’ll never know for sure.
The animosity we experienced when the truth first emerged was overwhelming. I thought we were going to have to leave town and change our names to escape the death threats. But then I was offered a spot on a national news show to tell my story. When I shared the tale of how I discovered my husband’s secret, killed him in self-defense, and rescued the girl he kidnapped, I became a national hero. Brian offered me back my spot at the Nassau Nutshell, but I turned it down because I got a book deal for quite a lot of money.
Wife of a Serial Killer. Has a ring to it, doesn’t it?
As I stir the eggs, Liam sprints through the back door, wearing a damp T-shirt and gym shorts. He was out running early this morning. I don’t know how he has the energy after getting back from Albany with the rest of the team late last night. His face is pink and he’s grinning ear to ear. “Eggs!” he exclaims when he sees what I’ve got in the frying pan. “You’re making me some, right?”
“Of course.”
“They smell amazing,” he says. “I’m starving.”
He’s still smiling as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He’s in a really good mood this morning, but he’s been in a good mood a lot lately. He types a message into his phone with his thumbs, then grins wider when his phone buzzes in response. He’s probably texting Olivia.
Amazingly, Liam and Olivia are still together. He’s crazy about her. They go out several nights a week and talk on the phone every night. She’s at his track team practice cheering him on every time he runs. They’re coordinating which colleges they’re applying to, so they can stay together after graduation in June. I’m not sure if it’s a great idea— they’re only seventeen and have so many new experiences ahead of them. And to be completely frank, Liam is a much more competitive college applicant than Olivia. I don’t want him to give up an opportunity on her behalf.
But I can’t deny she’s good for him. And I certainly can’t deny that he loves her. I can tell by the way he looks at her and wants to spend every minute with her.
As for me, I doubt I’ll ever date again.
“I’m going to go take a shower now.” Liam wipes sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “But when I get out, you’re going to have eggs for me, right, Mom? Five eggs.” He holds up one hand and wiggles his fingers. “Five. I’m hungry.”
“You got it, kid.”
“You’re the best, Mom.” He kisses me quickly on the cheek and dashes up the stairs to his bedroom, whistling in the hallway. He’s in an exceptionally good mood. He must be happy about winning the debate yesterday.
The Bruno Mars song has ended, and the DJ is reading off news stories. I listen idly when I cook the eggs. JLo is dating somebody new. New York City was determined to be the most expensive city in the country to live. And a girl was reported missing in a town called Troy in upstate New York.
Troy in upstate New York…
I wonder if that’s anywhere near Albany.
I lay down my spatula and turn up the volume on the radio. The DJs voice fills the room: “Eighteen-year-old Kayla Rogers went out with her friends on Saturday night. Her friends stayed at a bar, but Kayla left alone. Police say she never returned to the apartment she shared with two other girls…”
My hands won’t stop shaking as I pick up my phone from the kitchen counter. I type Troy, NY into the map app. Then I calculate the time it would take for someone to get from Albany to Troy by car.
Sixteen minutes.
My eyes raise upward to the ceiling. I hear the shower running, and even over the droplets of water, I can hear Liam singing to himself.
It couldn’t be.
He wouldn’t. He’s not like that. He’s not like Jason. Not really.
It’s a coincidence. It’s got to be a coincidence.
I lean against the counter, my knees weak. I can still hear Liam singing in the bathroom above us, as the stench of burning eggs fills the kitchen.
The End
Acknowledgments
Those who know me know that I write my books quick but I edit slowly. I’m very grateful for all the supportive people in my life who help me through the painful editing process. It is incredible how much help I get from the point I finish my first draft to the final version. There are times when things happen in my life to make me realize how lucky I am to have the support I have—friends and family who are always there to give me an opinion or more.
Thank you to Kate, for the positive supportive as well as the awesome and thorough editing job. Thank you to my mother, for the advice on the beginning of the book. Thanks again to Rhona for cover and blurb advice—how many times did I text you??
Thank you to new friends. Thanks to Rebecca, for your great
advice. Thanks to Jen, for the thorough critique. Thanks to my new writing group. It’s incredible to have that support in my life.
And thank you to the rest of my family. Without your encouragement, none of this would be possible.
Did you enjoy reading The Perfect Son?
If so, please send me an email at [email protected]. I would love to hear from you. Or consider leaving a review on Amazon!
Check out my website at:
http://doccartoon.blogspot.com/
In the meantime, please enjoy a short excerpt of my new book, The Ex…
THE EX
When my live-in boyfriend of many, many (many) years told me he was taking me out to dinner to discuss “something important,” there was only one thought running through my head:
It’s about damn time.
Of all our friends, Joel and I had been together the longest. I don’t want to say how long. It’s embarrassing. Let’s just say that I danced at the weddings of friends who had been together half as long as we had. And then a few months earlier, my sister got married. My baby sister got married before I did. In India, they have a rule that the eldest sister must be married off before any of the younger siblings may, and I think it’s about time they bring that rule to the western hemisphere. Because otherwise, you end up sitting alone at your little sister’s wedding while elderly aunts pat you on the hand and assure you that it will be “your turn next” until you end up hiding in a stall in the ladies room, stuffing wedding cake into your mouth.
Joel missed that wedding because he pulled the short straw and ended up with an ER shift that day. Or that’s what he told me. After the fact, I have to wonder.
But tonight, all was forgiven as I walked into the crowded bar and grill where Joel and I were meeting for dinner, since he was coming straight from the hospital. The tables were packed so tightly into the small space that I had to twist my hips to navigate across the room. Smoking had been banned in this establishment for many years, but I still detected a whiff of cigarettes, clinging to the wood of the tables and chairs, ground into the sticky floor.
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