“Do you know how long this was going on for?”
I shook my head. “No, I only found out recently, when I heard them argue in his office. ”
“What were they arguing about?”
“I didn’t catch it all, but Christy was saying she wanted their relationship to be exclusive. I guess she wanted him to leave his wife. Mr. Hart’s wife is pregnant. I assumed Greg had come to his senses and decided to make things work with his family. ”
“And what did Mr. Hart want from Christy?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I can’t speak for him, but it didn’t sound like he wanted the same. He told her he didn’t want a relationship with her. Like I said, I got the impression he’d realized he’d made a mistake having an affair. You don’t think Greg had something to do with this? He wouldn’t hurt a fly. ” Come on. Come on.
“When was the last time you saw Christy?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“At work, she left slightly early. It was about four forty-five, I think. When she didn’t turn up the next morning, I assumed she was just ill. ”
“And no one heard from her? She didn’t call in sick?”
“I can’t say. I don’t take those calls. You’ll have to speak to someone from HR for that—Jessica Peterson. ”
He nodded and McKinney wrote something else down. “Have you ever heard Mr. Hart mention any other women?”
I smiled. Their line of questioning was focused on Greg. “Not to me. He did mention going out to dinner regularly. I assumed his wife wasn’t a good cook. ” Brook smiled.
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They continued their questions; most were about Greg, trying to find out what kind of a person he was and his relationship with others—particularly with women. When asked where I was, they were satisfied with my “at home watching Ocean’s Eleven” answer. They would look into it, of course, but I knew the movie was on at the time Christy died. “Well, I think that’s all for now, Mr. Brown. Here’s my card if you think of anything else. ” He handed me his card as the stood up. “Thank you for your time. ”
I took the card and smiled at them both. “Absolutely. ” That was almost too easy.
26
SUMMER
Wednesday, February 9th (Present)
I looked up at the clock, only half past eight, still too early for bedtime. If I went to sleep too early, then I would wake up early—and spend the extra few hours stressing over how long until he came for breakfast.
Six months I had been living in the same hell, doing the same thing in the same four depressing walls. I didn’t even know how I was still sane. Maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I was too insane to realize that I was insane!
The cellar door creaked open. I knew him coming down here after seven wasn’t a good thing—only for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Was he going to kill again? He had killed too many women. I didn’t understand how he was getting away with it.
A high-pitched scream rang through my ears, and I gulped. Which poor girl was it this time? I had almost closed off from it. Watching someone being killed made me sick, but I pretended it wasn’t real, fake blood, just like the movies—my coping mechanism Poppy called it. Whatever it was called, I didn’t care. It helped. I stood up and moved to the wall close to our bedroom and the others followed. We should do something. We should always do something, but we didn’t. Fear was powerful. It was why he hadn’t been murdered down here by four women.
He pushed the girl downstairs roughly, making her cry out in pain. She had a short, pixie haircut, not something Clover thought was womanly. He liked long hair. Her clothes were short, revealing, and tight. She never stood a chance. Clover didn’t know why she was selling her body, and he didn’t care. He was judge, jury, and executioner.
As she sobbed, mascara-stained tears poured down her face. She stumbled down the stairs and clung to the wall. Lifting her head, she saw us and her eyes widened in surprise. “Help me,” she begged, her voice trembling. My eyes prickled with tears. She looked so scared and helpless. We were just as scared. I wished that there was something I could do, but I knew it was useless. I would never be able to overpower him alone.
He kicked her hard in the stomach, making her scream in pain. Something cracked, and I pressed my fist to my mouth as a wave of nausea hit me. I slumped down on the sofa and crawled back, curling up into a ball.
“Don’t talk to them. They’re not like you,” he spat. His face was red and his eyes so cold he looked dead. He had to be dead inside to do what he did. He kicked her again, and she screamed through another crack. I gulped and hugged my legs.
Why was he doing that? He used to just stab them. Why was he hurting her like that first? Did he enjoy it? “P-please don’t,” she muttered. “Let me go, please. ” Her breathing was heavy and labored. He smiled in return, cocking his head to the side. His enjoyment in tormenting her sent a shiver down my spine. I hated him so much.
“You’re the one making me hurt you! If you didn’t ruin innocent peoples’ lives, I wouldn’t have to do this,” he growled and punched her in the face. She fell to her knees from the force and spat out blood onto the floor.
Horror flashed through his eyes at the sight of the blood splatters on the floor. Oh no!
The veins in his neck popped out and strained against his skin and his face went red with rage. He pulled out his knife. This is it. She screamed and thrashed her arms and legs around trying to keep him away from her. “No, no, no! Please don’t. No, please. ” Her eyes were wide, like a kid trying to prove her innocence. That wouldn’t help her. He never let any of them go.
Tears rolled down my face so quickly it felt like one long, never-ending tear. I knew what was coming next. He kicked her hard in the side, in the same place as before. She gagged and held her ribs. As she looked down, he plunged the knife into her stomach, retracted it, and stabbed her again. Blood pumped from the wounds. I heaved, fighting the overwhelming urge to throw up.
She choked and blood splattered on the floor from her mouth. Her body slumped to the floor, and she made a throaty scream that made my entire body tremble. With one last gasp for air, her body stilled. My lip trembled. Don’t think of it as a person, I told myself. I pictured a slab of meat on the floor, the remains of a slaughtered animal. I had to turn it off.
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“Clean this. Now,” he barked and sprinted back up the stairs. Would he still kill if he were the one that had to close their eyes and mop up the blood? A pool of blood seeped out from under her body and trickled toward me. I watched it with morbid fascination. So much blood was inside the human body, bright red liquid swimming around in our veins. It didn’t even take losing much to fuck you up either.
“Lily,” Rose’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Come help, please?”
I nodded. “Okay. ” Walking toward the body slowly, I crouched down. The smell of blood filled my lungs, and I gagged. My eyes watered, and I jumped to my feet. “I can’t, sorry,” I muttered and ran for the bathroom.
I threw up in the toilet. Tears flowed down my face as I leaned over the toilet. I gasped, trying to get my breath back. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t clean up after his murders. “Lily?” Poppy called through the door. I squeezed my eyes closed. Just leave me alone!
Slumping against the wall, I gripped my head in my hands. I felt as if I were suffocating. I hated him, and I hated being down here. Poppy walked into the room and knelt down in front of me. “I can’t do this,” I said. The lump in my throat grew, and I started sobbing, chest heaving.
“Shh, it’s okay. You can, Lily. You have to. ”
I shook my head. I didn’t have to at all. “N-No I don’t,” I replied, gasping for air.
“Don’t. You don’t think like that, okay? We’ll be fine. We will all be fine. ” I curled up in a ball, hugging myself tight. I’d heard “It will be fine” so many times. When was it actually going to start b
eing fine? When Lewis said it, it was true. When he held me, everything seemed to be all right, even if it was only for a while. He wasn’t here now, and I needed him more than ever.
My head pounded. It felt like someone was repeatedly bashing me in the skull with a hammer. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand and took a deep, ragged breath. “I can’t help you do that. ”
She stroked my hair. “I know, and you don’t have to. Stay in here, and I’ll come get you when it’s done. You clean yourself up for when he comes back. ” She got up and left the room. I wanted to clean myself up, but not for him. I felt gross and could taste bile in my mouth still.
Pushing myself up, I turned the cold tap on and stuck my mouth under it. The cool water made me feel a little better. I pulled away and splashed my face. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. I looked awful. How was I going to make it another day? Especially when I didn’t have a clue when it would end—or even if it would end. I could be down here for years. If I knew how long, then I could make a decision. The one thing I didn’t ever want to happen was for me to grow to accept this. I would sooner die than be okay down here.
“Lily, we’re all finished. Can I come in?” Poppy said, tapping on the door. That was quick. Only ten minutes. If there were a world record for the quickest murder cleanup, they would get it. I opened the door and she smiled. “You look better. ” Yes, looked. I didn’t feel better. She sighed. “Have your shower now. I’ll tell him you’re feeling unwell and having an early night. ”
“Do you think that would be okay?”
“We can sleep when we want, Lily. ” Well, when it didn’t conflict with his meal times!
The main room was spotless when I walked out of the bathroom. It was hard to believe just half an hour ago a girl was murdered in this room. It almost made it seem unreal, as if I had dreamed it. Sometimes I second-guessed things because it all seemed too surreal. Had I imagined him killing her? My sense of reality blurred every day, and I was terrified that it meant I was starting to lose it like Rose. Not once had she or Poppy asked me to call them by their real names.
On the side table was another newspaper, but I refused to look at it. It was torment to see my family’s faces.
I went into the bedroom, ignoring Rose watching me, and climbed into bed. I started to think that I was the one worse off. Sure, Rose and Poppy didn’t have anyone looking for them—that we knew of—but that also meant they didn’t miss anyone so much it made them feel sick. I missed all the special little moments I had with my family and the things I’d done with Lewis, even the silly things, like going bowling or shopping on the weekends.
Rolling onto my stomach, I buried my head under my pillow. Had I really reached a new low where I wished I had no one? My heart broke, and I sobbed into the sheet.
Saturday, June 5th (2010)
“Lewis, come on. You need to get up,” I said, shaking his arm gently. Every time we had to go somewhere or do something early, I had the same battle to get him out of bed. He was worse than a child!
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He groaned. “Baby, you gotta let me sleep. ”
“Nope. Up,” I said, pulling the quilt off him. He groaned again and rolled over, burying his head in the pillow. We were going to his aunt’s wedding and needed to leave in an hour. I had already been up over two hours, had breakfast, showered, got dressed, brought my dress to his house, done my makeup, and straightened my hair. “Lewis, seriously, we have an hour. ”
“An hour?” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Yes!”
“Then wake me up in thirty minutes. ”
I sighed in frustration. He was so impossible in the mornings. I suddenly thought of something that would get him up. “Okay. You sleep. I just need to take this bra off—it’s so uncomfortable,” I said casually and removed my top. I saw him twitch, but he didn’t look over—he didn’t think I would actually do it. I smiled and dropped my top to the floor. The noise got his attention. He rolled over at ninja speed and pushed himself up on his elbows.
“Hey, I thought you were taking your bra off?” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully.
I shrugged. “It’s not hurting now, but since you’re awake, you should just get up. ” I jumped back as his arms shot out to grab me.
“That’s not fair. Tease!” I giggled to myself and walked away. “Summer?” I turned around and gasped at how close he was to me. I hadn’t heard him get up over my laughing. He wound his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest. “I love you,” he said, staring into my eyes, making me feel like I was floating.
“I love you too. Now get ready!” I pushed his chest and he must not have expected it because he stumbled backward. He groaned and pouted, making me roll my eyes at him. Man-child.
***
We arrived at the church ten minutes late and had to sit at the back. I was so annoyed with him as everyone stared at us. I scowled at Lewis and he mouthed, “I love you” to try and get back in my good graces. Not happening, buddy! I frowned and turned my attention to the bride and groom.
His aunt Lisa and her almost husband, Brian, read out their vows. They had written their own and they were beautiful. I loved weddings, especially when they were so personal.
“Are you crying?” Lewis whispered, bumping his shoulder against mine. He looked like he was trying not to smirk. Every time I cried at something happy he teased me.
“I’m sorry I’m not dead inside like you!” I hissed. He burst out laughing and quickly turned it into a cough. Everyone in the church fell silent and turned around to look at us. My eyes widened and my face burst into flames. Being with Lewis felt like bloody babysitting sometimes—most of the time.
“Sorry,” Lewis said, faking another cough and slapping his chest. Could I move seats without anyone noticing?
Once the ceremony ended, everyone made their way outside for drinks, canapés, and photos. Lewis grabbed my hand, rubbing my palm with his thumb. It was hard to stay mad at him. “Late as always hey, Lewis?” Lisa teased, pulling him into a hug.
“Yeah, sorry. Summer was taking ages doing her hair. ” I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. Was he seriously blaming me for this?
“Don’t worry, hon. I know the truth,” she said and winked at me.
“Good,” I replied and narrowed my eyes at Lewis. “Anyway, congratulations!” I hugged her, kissing her cheek.
“Yeah, what she said,” Lewis said, nodding his head toward me.
“Thank you,” Lisa replied sarcastically and pinched Lewis’s cheek. He frowned, turning his nose up and batting her hand away. Ha. “Well, I’d better keep moving, gotta get around to everyone before I have too many drinks. ” She smiled at us and walked toward Lewis’s parents.
“Come on, baby, let’s get some champagne. I’m gonna need the alcohol to survive this. ” He kissed my temple and put his arm around my waist. Yeah, Lewis’s family could get a little…extravagant when they were all together. I still had flashbacks from the Irish dancing incident at his mum’s birthday party.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re far too young to be this grumpy, you know. ” He also didn’t like how his gran had a million stories about him when he was a baby. Personally, I loved it.
“Oh, now I’m young? You’re always teasing the crap out of me for being old, so which one is it?” He raised his eyebrows and waited for an answer.
I shrugged. “That all depends on my mood. ” He chuckled quietly and pulled me into a kiss.
27
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LEWIS
Thursday, February 24th (Present)
I lay awake in Summer’s bed. It was two thirty in the morning, and I had only slept for about an hour. I had a shitty feeling in the pit of my stomach. All I could think was, There’s something really wrong. Even more wrong than her being missing. Today marked the seventh month she had been gone. Was that too lon
g to find her alive? I couldn’t think there was no chance. Statistically the chances sucked, but I had to believe she was still alive.
She had to come back soon. I couldn’t think straight. I hated every second she was out there wondering if we were still looking for her. Whenever thoughts of what she was going through slipped into my mind, I felt sick, angry, and just wanted to punch someone or something. Someone knew what happened, but no one was coming forward. I hated them. I hated everyone—most of all myself.
I shouldn’t have let her go to that fucking gig. Not that I could have ever stopped her doing anything she wanted, but I should have. I should have been the arsehole boyfriend and made her stay with me. She would have hated me, but she would be here.
Sitting up in bed, I rubbed my temples, feeling another headache coming on from the lack of sleep. I hated waking up every morning knowing I faced another day desperately searching, knowing at the end of the day I would be going to bed alone in Summer’s house while she was out there living God knows what hell.
“Lewis,” Henry said and pushed the bedroom door open. “I was thinking about going to Hart’s. ” Finally! I had wanted to go and see Greg Hart ever since the police released him after questioning. He should never have been let out, especially after finding eight bodies in the canal. They believed the murders spanned over four years. The search wasn’t even over; the cops thought there could still be more bodies.
“Pretty sure I already know the answer, but are you coming?” he asked.
I cocked my head to the side. It had been my idea in the first place, but Henry had refused and spouted off a million reasons why it was a bad idea. I had no doubt that it was a bad idea, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I couldn’t relax or eat or sleep until she was found. Time was standing still, and I was stuck until we knew.
“You know I am. ” If I could just talk to him, maybe I could get him to tell me where Summer was.
“Henry, the guy that helped with the search, Colin Brown, do you think there’s something weird about him?” Theo said I was being stupid and looking for answers wherever I thought I could find them, but the guy was creepy. I couldn’t get his face out of my head.
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