I Know Everything

by Matthew Farrell

  “I told you,” Randall growled through clenched teeth. “Randall’s not here.”

  “Yes, he is. I’m staring right at him.”

  Pots and pans crashed in the kitchen, and Randall instinctively turned toward the noise. As soon as he did, Susan slid forward to get closer to her target, steadied the Beretta on her thigh, and fired. The shot exploded in the quiet house, smoke immediately filling the bottom floor. The bullet hit Randall just above his knee. He screamed, which made the twins scream.

  “Put the kids down and drop the knife!”

  “I’ll kill them!” Randall cried, the pain coursing through every pronunciation of his words.

  Susan fired a second shot into his other leg. Randall screamed again and fell to his knees. He let go of Casey and immediately brought the knife up to Tim, exposing the entire right side of his upper body.

  Time slowed down for Susan in that instant. She fired three more shots, hitting Randall once in the chest, once in the neck, and a final time in the head, just below the right eye. His body rocked back, and he fell against the stairs. Tim landed on the floor, crying and confused, hollering for his mother. Susan scurried on her hands and knees, grabbing her children and dragging them into the living room.

  “Mommy!” Casey cried.

  “I’m scared!” Tim sobbed.

  Susan hugged them to her chest, the pain in her shoulder unrelenting. “I know. I know,” she whispered, kissing them and pulling them in to her. “It’s over. I promise. It’s over now.”

  Sirens were approaching in the distance. She got to her feet and carried the twins into the kitchen. Beatrice had managed to crawl toward the island and pull a towel full of pots and pans she’d set out to dry onto the floor to act as a distraction. She was now lying in a pool of blood, pale and weak.

  Susan knelt beside her. “Mom.”

  Beatrice nodded once, then closed her eyes.

  “Hang in there. Help is coming. I can hear them.” She looked behind her and saw Randall’s lifeless body lying in the hall. “It’s over. All of it. It’s over.”

  61

  Susan sat on the couch in her living room, watching her friends and colleagues, people she’d known for years, people she’d had drinks with, gone to dinner with, celebrated birthdays and anniversaries and holidays and weddings with, process her house as a crime scene. It was like a dream. Like she was removed from this new reality. They worked around her, refusing to make eye contact to avoid starting a conversation that could end up on record. They nodded their hellos, then got right to work, taking pictures, extracting carpet and soil samples, taking measurements, and dusting for prints to retrace Randall’s steps once he’d gotten inside her home. She’d seen it all a thousand times, but she’d never been on the other side. She’d never been the one the team didn’t talk to. The witness. The victim.

  The twins were upstairs playing with Miranda, one of the neighborhood teens who sometimes babysat when Beatrice wasn’t available, and a social worker the department had sent to monitor the kids’ emotional and psychological states. Susan hadn’t seen Casey or Tim since the first few units had responded and taken them away to be examined by the EMTs. She desperately wanted to see them. She needed to hold them and kiss them and smell their hair. She needed to hear herself tell them that everything was going to be all right. She needed to hear them respond with the blind trust only a child could have in their mother. She needed to feel their love and offer them her love in return.

  The first set of EMTs had rushed her mother to Mid-Hudson Regional Hospital. The on-scene assessment showed Beatrice had sustained defensive wounds to her hands and forearms as she’d tried to push Randall back out the door. But he’d overtaken her, stabbing her in her side, possibly nicking her liver and piercing a lung. She’d lost a lot of blood and had been only semiconscious when backup had arrived. Susan hadn’t heard any updates since she’d been taken away.

  Footsteps came into the living room. She looked up to see Tommy walking toward her.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  “Sit.”

  Tommy eased himself onto the couch and watched the chaos alongside his partner. “You okay?”

  “I think so. My mom’s in pretty bad shape, though.”

  “The kids?”

  “Upstairs.”

  Tommy exhaled the breath he was holding.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to be talking to me,” Susan said. “Protocol.”

  “Screw protocol,” he said. “I need to make sure you’re okay. I should’ve been here with you. We should’ve figured he’d be making a move on you. He was already stalking you. How could we not see that?”

  “We did see it. That’s why we had the unit out front and I called before we headed back to the barracks. There was no way we could’ve known this would happen.”

  “We should’ve done the work here. We didn’t have to go back to the barracks.”

  Susan looked down at her hands folded on her lap, still trembling. “Stop second-guessing yourself, Tommy. It is what it is.”

  “But the trooper. And your mother.”

  “I know.”

  She watched the men and women walking through the house. “Look, I want to apologize for accusing you of being part of all this. And tailing you. And trying to get the drop from your dad. Everything was just so jumbled up. It was hard to see what was the truth and what was a lie. When I saw your file and after I talked with your dad, I thought you had to be Sam. Too many pieces fit too perfectly.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Tommy replied. “I was stupid for not saying anything as soon as we found out who Randall really was. I should’ve come clean about me and Lily as soon as those prints came back. I never would’ve imagined all this could happen. And for the record, if I found out about my connection to Randall the way you did, I would’ve thought the same thing. You don’t know me. I get that. I’m sorry.”

  Susan forced a smile. “If I don’t get to apologize, you don’t get to apologize. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Crosby walked through the front door and came into the living room. He stood over the two of them. “You give your statement yet?”

  “Not entirely.”

  “Then why is Corolla talking to you?”

  She looked at Tommy. “I told you.”

  “Yeah, protocol. Got it.” Tommy stood from the couch and walked out front to talk to some of the other officers. When he was gone, Crosby sat next to Susan and gently put his arm around her to pull her close.

  “How you holding up?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Dutchess ME has Randall’s body. We’re just about done here. Units found Hooper Landsky’s Subaru parked a few blocks away. We’re processing it.”

  “How is Hooper doing?”

  “He’ll be released soon. Gave his statement, but there wasn’t much to give. He was knocked out on his way to his car after work. Woke up chained to a wall. Couldn’t tell how long he was there, but he wasn’t given any food or water. Then you found him. Didn’t see who did any of it.”

  Susan looked at the blood that had pooled in the hallway and run into the living room, staining the edge of the carpet.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Crosby asked.

  “They stabilized it as best they could. Hurts like hell.”

  “And the kids?”

  “They’re upstairs. I haven’t had a chance to be with them, so I’m not sure how much of this they comprehend. They were pretty scared during the whole thing.”

  “Any news on your mom?”

  “No. To be honest, I feel like I should be there instead of sitting in the living room where no one can talk to me. I’m helpless here. I feel helpless here. I need to get to that hospital. My mom needs me.”

  “Then you better go. Finish your statement, get the kids, and go see your mom. Tell her we’re thinking of her.”

  “I will.”

  “You call me if you need any
thing. Anything. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Susan got up from the couch and began to make her way upstairs to see Casey and Tim. As she placed her foot on the first step, she stopped. “Couple things still bother me,” she said.

  Crosby turned toward her. “What’s that?”

  “When I asked him about killing Amanda and kidnapping Hooper, he got confused. Like he wasn’t sure what I was talking about. He knew generally about both but couldn’t give me details. When I asked him about killing Lily and Rose and Dr. Reems, he was right there. And Sam wasn’t even the personality that took over when he was hurting Lily and Rose.”

  “Maybe his mind was all jumbled. Didn’t know what was what.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What was the other thing?”

  “He came to the house as Sam, but there was no coat. No hood. Same with the video we saw of him getting out of his car at Quarim when he was going after Dr. Reems. Whenever Randall talked about Sam, he always mentioned the coat and the hood. And in all my encounters with him, a large hood covered his face. But now, nothing. To hear Randall talk, that outfit was Sam. It’s what differentiated the two personalities.”

  “Maybe he didn’t need the coat and hood anymore because, in his mind, Randall was dead.”

  “I guess. Has anyone found the coat?”

  “Not yet,” Crosby replied. “We got a team at his house and at the university, and like I said, we’re processing the Subaru. We’ll get it. But it’s over now. You did good, Susan. You always do.”

  62

  Rain tapped the hospital windows in a rhythmic fashion. It had been raining and sleeting most of the day, making holiday travel an absolute mess.

  “Mommy, can we go get some juice from the lady?”

  Susan looked up from her magazine and saw Casey standing in front of her, tugging on the bottom of the green velvet dress she wanted to wear for Christmas Eve dinner. It was December 24, and they were spending it in Beatrice’s hospital room, as a family, as it should be. Tim was sitting in one of the plastic chairs playing a video game. He’d been quiet since the incident at the house but liked it when everyone was around. It made him feel safe. Beatrice was sitting up, trying to stay awake, but dozing with the help of the oxycodone the nurse had given her the last time she’d been in to check on things. She’d been given a private room as a courtesy, and Susan spent almost every waking minute at her mother’s side. The surgery to repair what turned out to be a pierced liver, nicked intestine, and collapsed lung was a success. Now there was the recovery, which would be somewhat slow and aggravating. But Susan was moving Beatrice into her house permanently, and she would help in any way she could.

  “Mommy, I’m thirsty,” Casey whined. Her cheeks were red from the hot air blasting out of the wall heater. “Can we get juice? Please? I said please, so you have to say yes.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “Please, anyway?”

  “Go get my purse.”

  Casey skipped to the corner of the room and grabbed Susan’s pocketbook, which was next to the stack of magazines they’d brought from the hotel. Susan closed her magazine and rubbed her shoulder. She was out of the sling now, but mobility and pain were still issues. Casey didn’t talk about Randall or about what had happened, and seemed to be her old self, which was encouraging. The child psychologist had warned that she could relapse as long as a year from now, so Susan knew they weren’t out of the woods just yet. But each day was a blessing when Casey acted like Casey.

  “Wow!”

  Tim looked up from his game, and his face lit up. “Cool!”

  Susan turned in her seat. Tommy was standing in the doorway holding a three-foot artificial Christmas tree in one hand and two black garbage bags in the other.

  “Hey, guys.” He winked at Susan as he stepped into the room. “I heard you were spending Christmas Eve here with your grandma, and I didn’t think you could do that without the proper Christmas decorations to hang. And you need a tree, right? You wanna help me put things up?”

  Both twins dropped what they were doing and scurried over to Tommy, pulling him farther into the room and grabbing the bags to see what was inside. Casey wasn’t thirsty anymore. Tim didn’t care about the high score on his video game. It was Christmastime. Finally.

  Susan got up from her seat and joined them in the corner. Casey was snatching cheap wall decorations and silver garlands from one bag while Tim was in the other, rummaging through decorations to put on the tree. Smiles that had been hit or miss for the past few days returned instantly, broad and beautiful.

  “What’s all this?” Susan asked.

  Tommy shrugged and placed the tree in the corner. “Like I said, you can’t have Christmas Eve without it looking like Christmas. This place is drab.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He leaned in to whisper. “I got their presents in the car. Wrapped. Pink for Casey and blue for Tim. I hope that’s not too gender specific.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “When I called Eric about what happened, he told me where the spare key was. I got the gifts from his house and found the ones you were stashing at the barracks. And maybe a few of us chipped in for some extra stuff too.”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Susan said.

  “Yes I did,” Tommy replied. “You’re up to your neck in all this fallout from Randall, so I wanted to make sure the kids were taken care of. We all did.”

  “Well, tell everyone I said thank you. This is above and beyond.”

  “Have you talked to Eric?”

  “Yeah. Flight comes in tomorrow morning. He’s meeting us here.”

  Susan looked on as the kids ripped through the packages and began hanging bulbs and tiny figurines on the tree. They were laughing and scurrying about in a haphazard way, from decorating the tree to hanging things on the wall. They looked happy. And for the moment, Susan believed they could all get past this. She believed in a new future.

  “They find the coat or the hood yet?”

  “Not yet. We’ll find them.”

  “We better.”

  Tommy clapped his hands to get the kids’ attention. “Hey, I got some presents in the car for you guys. You want me to go get them?”

  “Yes!” the twins shouted in unison.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back. Keep hanging your stuff.”

  Susan grabbed him by the jacket and leaned in to whisper. “Not all the presents. Santa, remember?”

  “Right.”

  She watched him leave and began unloading decorations from the bags. As she worked, she glanced back toward the door and saw the wet and muddy footprints Tommy had left. She stared at them, thinking. Knowing.

  There are no such things as coincidences.

  She walked over to where her bag was hanging and dug inside, eventually pulling out the tape measure. This would have to be quick. She bent down and grabbed her phone from her back pocket, watching to make sure Tommy was still out of sight.

  63

  The storm had eventually passed, and visiting hours were over. Tommy shut the door to his car, switched on the engine, and turned up the heat. It was almost eight o’clock on Christmas Eve, which meant it was probably late enough for people to already be in their homes, celebrating with drinks and desserts and tucking their kids in bed as the anticipation of Santa grew to a fever pitch. He hoped the roads would be clear enough to make the trip to Stony Brook an uneventful one. He didn’t want to spend all night in traffic.

  Despite his stiff upper lip and calm exterior, this case had taken a toll on him. Of that, there was no doubt. He knew it would be hard going in, but he hadn’t expected the kaleidoscope of emotion he’d been faced with along the way. Doubt, fear, anger, love, confusion, sadness.

  Hate.

  He’d been forced to come clean about his relationship with Lily when Susan read through his personnel file and visited his father, but the truth was he and Lily were so much more than what hi
s father had described. Lily had been, unquestionably, the love of his life. She’d been the reason he got up in the morning, determined to start a career from which they could then build their life together. They had planned to get married after she got her master’s in education, and she’d been more than willing to move upstate to be with him for the beginning of their forever. What had begun as a chance meeting in the school cafeteria when she was a lost little freshman and he was a confident, self-assured senior had blossomed into a relationship that grew beyond high school crushes and adolescent infatuation. Their love had been the real thing—forever, unrelenting.

  And William Feder had taken it all.

  Tommy picked up his phone and placed a call as he turned onto the Taconic Parkway.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he said. “I’m on my way. Be there around ten, depending on traffic.” He paused and took a breath. “She’s still asking about the coat and the hood. We need to end this.”

  He hung up after listening for a bit more, then settled in for the long drive ahead.

  After Lily’s death, Tommy scoured newspaper reports about what Gary forced William Feder to do to her. What made everything worse was that Tommy knew Gary. He knew he was a drunk and a general loser, but he’d never thought he was insane. There was neighborhood gossip about Gary slapping Rose around every once in a while, but whenever Tommy confronted Lily about it, she always swore those rumors were just that and assured him there was nothing to worry about. His biggest mistake had been believing her. He’d left Lily and Rose alone with no protection. They’d been tortured and murdered because of him. The guilt had been crushing.

  When he came home for the funerals, he implored his father to talk to him about the details of the case that weren’t in the press. At first his father resisted. He was devastated, too, knowing his son had lost a partner he’d never had a chance to start a life with. It took some time, but eventually Martin shared classified details, here and there. It was Martin who told Tommy that William had been the one who actually killed Rose and Lily. Gary forced him to do it, but their blood was on William Feder’s hands alone.