by Ana Medeiros
“You made me wait three hours in your waiting room,” Julian said.
“I should have had you escorted out of the building.”
“I wouldn’t have left quietly and you know it. Doubt your patients would have appreciated the show.”
“Are you here so I don’t tell the cops you were the one who beat Tatiana Thompson?”
“I didn’t touch her,” Julian replied, his voice clipped.
“That’s not what you implied that night. Why did you lead me to believe she was Alana or Sofia or whoever the fuck you were seeing? Why the lies, man?”
“I wasn’t aware of Alana’s identity. Or that she had a twin. Or that she and Tatiana were the same twins I told you about years ago.”
“Did you come here and wait all this time to ask for my forgiveness, then?”
“I have nothing to apologize for.”
“Jesus Christ, not only are you a sick fuck, you’re also an arrogant fuck.”
Julian had a specific reason to seek out Peter: Grace and Peter’s actions worried him. If they continued to use their new sexual freedom as a distraction from the problems affecting their marriage, they would end up divorcing. Julian believed that Peter and Grace could still salvage their relationship and offer Seth and Eli everything he couldn’t.
“Grace was at my place. She told me you’ve opened up your marriage.”
“And what’s that to you?” Peter threw his pen across the desk. It landed on the floor. “Grace needs to learn how to keep her mouth shut.”
“Grace can say whatever she wants. She doesn’t need your permission.”
“We’re talking about my marriage. It’s pretty personal stuff.”
“Cheating on your wife is pretty personal stuff. You shared that with me.”
Julian didn’t plan to divulge to Grace her husband’s unfaithfulness, but Peter didn’t know that.
“This open marriage experiment will blow up in your face,” Julian continued. “You and Grace need to get into therapy.”
“Let me get this straight—you have no family of your own, you go to sex clubs, you’re into that whole BDSM scene that gives me the creeps and you’re telling me how I should handle my marriage?” Peter laughed. “You’re in no position to open your mouth, man.”
“I’m trying to protect Seth and Eli.”
“They’re not yours to protect.”
Julian ground his teeth together to the point that his jaw hurt. “Grace is unhappy. That’s what led her to want an open marriage. If you weren’t too busy taking advantage of your hall pass, you’d see that.”
“Has she told you she’s unhappy? Because she hasn’t said anything to me. And Seth and Eli have everything they need. They always come first. Even when Grace and I are sleeping with other people.”
Not the night Grace forgot to pick them up and I was too fucked up on benzos to take care of them, Julian thought. To be fair, that incident hadn’t been Peter’s fault, but he wasn’t about to criticize Grace or reveal how irresponsibly he himself had acted.
“Listen, I’m not here to pass judgment on your decision to have an open marriage,” Julian said. “I just know you two are doing it for the wrong reasons. You and Grace need to address the state of your relationship first. Do it for Seth and Eli. C’mon, Pete, how long have we been friends? Twenty, twenty-one years? Can’t we get past what happened that night and focus on the well-being of your wife and children?”
“You’ve got a problem with how I choose to live my life? I’ve got a problem with how you choose to live yours. What happened that night just drove it home for me.”
“My sexual life should have no weight on our friendship.”
“And what about Grace’s and mine?”
“If you didn’t have Seth and Eli we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Julian said.
“I won’t tell Grace what you’re into, and if she wishes to hang out with you and take the boys, I’ll allow it. I’m doing this for her though. I know how much she likes you.”
Julian tensed up at the word allow. “You’re so certain that if Grace found out she wouldn’t understand.”
“Go ahead then, tell her. Who’s stopping you?”
At that moment, Julian hated Peter. They both knew that if Grace found out about Julian’s connection with The Raven Room, she might not want him to spend time with Seth and Eli. Julian resented that Peter had the power to prevent him from seeing his own biological children.
Julian decided he would have more to gain if he kept his true emotions toward Peter to himself. “Do you remember our trip to Prague?” he asked.
“During the summer of our junior year? Yeah.”
“We ended up at that sketchy-looking motel with those two Italian girls we met at the nude beach.”
Peter’s expression softened. “You didn’t know who they were when we ran into them at the bar later that day.”
“To my defense they looked different with their clothes on.”
“I recognized them.”
“Then that guy stole your wallet and I chased him down for five blocks.”
“And you got beaten up so bad we thought you’d go blind in one eye.”
“But I got your wallet back.”
“Why did you do it? I didn’t care about the money.”
“I know. You paid for my plane ticket.”
Peter couldn’t hold back a smile.
“You had a picture of your family in your wallet,” Julian said. “It was the only one you had of you and your grandfather. I wasn’t going to allow anyone to take it away from you.”
Peter came to sit beside Julian. With his shoulders slumped, he stared at his own feet.
“I’ve always had your back, Pete. That’s what I’m trying to do right now.”
Someone knocked on the door and they both looked up. A nurse peeked in. “Sorry, Doctor Morin, you’re running an hour behind. The patients have started to complain.”
Peter’s new amenable demeanor vanished. “We’re done here. Walk Dr. Reeve out and bring in my next patient.”
Julian remained seated. “Listen to me, Pete.”
Peter returned behind his desk and started to type. He ignored Julian.
The nurse opened the door further and pointed toward the hallway. She gave him a nervous smile. “This way, Dr. Reeve.”
Julian had just stepped outside of the office when Peter spoke, “I’m sorry about what happened to Sofia.”
The sympathy in Peter’s voice lingered between them.
“I hope Tatiana is OK,” he added.
As Julian left, he realized that, regardless of his anger toward Peter, he missed the friendship they once had.
Chapter 17
As Meredith walked toward her parked car after a quick manicure at her favorite spa on West Division Street, she threw her head back and felt the late afternoon sun on her face. So far, the summer had consisted of a few sunny moments between overcast skies that only cleared after strong thunderstorms.
The lack of sun hadn’t made the days or nights any cooler—the heat persisted. Sunny or not, warm weather made Meredith happy, but the pleasure she took from it failed to make her content. She still didn’t know who, if anyone, could be following her, and the sensation that someone watched her every move persisted. These days, because of how anxious she felt, she preferred to stay at home rather than venture out.
Meredith entered the aboveground parking lot, and searched for her car keys in her tote. Unable to find them amongst her laptop and schoolbooks, she groaned with frustration. She suddenly became aware of the sound of approaching footsteps. She looked up and noticed a man standing thirty feet away, at the entrance of the parking lot, staring at her. People passed him on the sidewalk and his attention did not waver. He focused solely on her.
Meredith held his stare. He looked unmemorable—a middle-aged Caucasian man, with no striking features, clad in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Emboldened by the fact they were in a public place with
pedestrians nearby, she started to walk toward him.
“What do you want?” she demanded, leaving a few feet of space between the two of them. She didn’t dare get too close.
He didn’t reply and, as she waited for a response, Meredith tried to memorize as many details about him as she could: his graying hair, his brown eyes, the fact that she would still be taller than him even if she weren’t wearing high-heel sandals.
Before she could ask him again, the man turned and started to walk down the street. Too stunned to act, Meredith watched him disappear around the corner.
All of a sudden, a wave of vulnerability washed over her. Determined to get to a safe place as fast as she could, Meredith struggled to locate her keys as she hurried to her car. With her heart pounding against her ribcage, she locked herself inside. It took her several tries to successfully insert the key in the ignition—her hands shook and she felt lightheaded. Now, with the engine running, she grasped the steering wheel. She didn’t know who the man was, but clearly someone wanted to scare her.
At that moment, she heard her phone buzz and reached for it. Colton had just texted her, wondering where she was. They had planned to get together and she was running late. She quickly replied, letting him know she would meet him at his place. After what had just happened, she didn’t want to have a conversation about the investigation in public.
As Meredith pulled her car out of the parking lot, she nervously surveyed her surroundings. The man was nowhere in sight.
She checked the rearview mirror every few seconds as she drove to Colton’s house. She parked the car on his street—her heart still racing with fear—and quickly walked toward his home, scanning both sides of the street.
“I thought you wanted to go to Burt’s Place for pizza,” Colton said, scowling at her from his La-Z-Boy.
Meredith smelled his cologne from across the living room. His clothes looked freshly pressed.
“I changed my mind.” She sat on the couch across from him. The air conditioning unit in the window behind her blew cool air on the nape of her neck. She welcomed its low humming sound, which muffled the noise from the football game playing on the television.
“You love pizza.”
“Not hungry.”
“Are you OK?”
Meredith wondered if she appeared as overwrought as she felt. “Got a bunch of papers to write, that’s all. They’re due by the end of the week.” She lit a cigarette and slid the ashtray on the coffee table closer to her. She hoped a hit of nicotine would help settle her nerves. “Have you had a chance to look at Sofia’s toxicology report?” She stared at the familiar mark of her bright red lipstick on the cigarette. “How about Thompson? Was he in Chicago at the time Lena was murdered?”
“Sofia’s toxicology report shows she was clean. No drugs. And when in comes to Lena’s death, Thompson was in New York for a conference that whole week. That rules him out.”
Meredith tried to keep her mind away from what had happened at the parking lot. “I need you to find out something for me.” She reached for a forgotten napkin on the coffee table and wrote on it. “Who owns the building at this address? The name on the property deed?”
Colton took the napkin from her. “Why? What does it have to do with the murders?”
“Get the name and we’ll talk about it.”
Colton passed her a pile of papers.
“What’s this?” She thumbed through it, discovering a series of police reports and crime scene photos.
“Three more women. All found dead, on their beds, posed the same way as Lena and Sofia. All—besides Sofia who was clean and died from a hit to the head—were ruled accidental overdoses. The first one is from two and a half years ago. Lena was the fourth, then Sofia.”
If she didn’t know the women in the photographs were dead, she would’ve assumed they were asleep. They all looked so peaceful.
“All of them died during the last week of January,” Colton added. “Thompson has attended the same marketing conference in New York for the last two years, so he either killed Sofia but not the other women, or someone else killed them all and somehow Sofia’s murder didn’t go as planned.”
Meredith remained absorbed in the photographs. She held Lena’s the longest.
“But whoever killed Sofia must have at least known about the others,” Colton said.
Meredith flipped through the files once more. “Where did you find all of this?”
“Sung’s office.”
She had to put out her cigarette. Her hands started to shake again.
“I went to see her and when I walked into her office she was looking at something. She quickly threw it inside one of her desk drawers and that tipped me off. Whatever it was, she didn’t want me to see it.” It was Colton’s turn to light a cigarette. “While I was still there she realized she was late for a meeting so we walked out together. But I snuck back in and had a look. Knew right away it was important so I photocopied it and put the originals back in the drawer.” Colton pointed at the documents in her lap. “It’s all there.”
Pam’s connection to Thompson had made Meredith uncomfortable from the beginning. But this was proof that Pam was hiding something and Meredith now suspected her stepmother was just as corrupt as the people that Meredith and her father often criticized.
No matter what Meredith uncovered about the murders, it wouldn’t make a difference. She couldn’t go to Pam or the police with any details and expect them to carry out a proper investigation. The murders of five women would go unpunished, and if there were to be any arrests in Sofia’s death, Meredith worried an innocent person would end up paying for a crime they didn’t commit.
Meredith placed the pile of papers back on the coffee table. Hugging her legs close to her chest, she slowly inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, repeatedly, hoping to calm her anxiety.
“Fuck, Meredith, are you OK?”
She heard the concern in Colton’s voice.
“I just need to sit here for a bit.”
She wanted someone to hold her, but Colton didn’t move from his La-Z-Boy.
• • •
Meredith didn’t know how long she sat there, with the air conditioning caressing the back of her neck. She couldn’t stop seeing the faces of the dead women.
“Come to bed with me.”
She felt Colton touch her.
“Don’t.” It was late, but she didn’t want to drive home alone.
One of his hands found her breast and the other slid between her legs.
“I said don’t.” She pushed him away.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been on this couch for like an hour.”
“Colton, no.”
“Are you pissed because of what I showed you? Forget about those women—”
“Leave me alone.”
“So you’re going to stay down here all night?”
“I’m not in the mood to fuck you and yes, I’m staying right here.” She rolled over, her back to him.
She heard an angry Colton stomp up the stairs. Suddenly, without a second thought, Meredith stood up, grabbed the photographs and police reports still on the coffee table, and rushed out the door. The man who had approached her earlier might be waiting for her outside, but her need to get out of that house grew stronger than her sense of self-preservation.
As Meredith drove toward Near North Side, she kept a close eye on the cars around her. White-knuckling the steering wheel, she took particular notice of anyone who drove behind her. Rather than diminishing, the trepidation that had taken hold of her since her encounter in the parking lot swelled inside of her, threatening to engulf her at any second. She feared losing herself to panic.
By the time she parked in the visitor area of Julian’s building and got into the elevator, her legs had gone numb. She forced herself to walk down the hall, grab her key, and unlock the door. All the lights were off. Meredith didn’t look for Tatiana in the guest bedroom. Instead, she walked down th
e hall, past the silent kitchen and living room, toward Julian’s empty bedroom.
Suppressing a sob, Meredith lay down on the unmade bed. She hugged one of the pillows and pressed her face into it, hoping to draw comfort from it. The pillow smelled like Julian, a mix of his aftershave and the scent of his body.
She didn’t know how long she had been crying when she felt a pair of strong hands on her back.
“Meredith?”
She didn’t move and continued to clutch the pillow. The sensation of Julian’s hands on her body calmed her. Only he could make her feel safe. The realization made her cry harder.
“Meredith, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Her breath came in and out in short gasps. She tried to speak but her throat felt too tight for any words to come out. The bed dipped under her and she welcomed the warmth of Julian’s body molding itself to hers, cradling her from behind.
“Talk to me, Meredith.” His arms came around her, embraced her, and she felt her hair being brushed aside and lips grazing the skin below her ear. That was her favorite way for him to hold her.
She struggled to speak. “I just want to be here.”
Meredith kept her eyes shut but let go of the pillow. She closed her hands on Julian’s arms, which cradled her tightly. The shivers racking her body lessened and her sobs morphed into silent tears. Her heart no longer threatened to rip through her chest.
They held each other in the dark for a long time.
Chapter 18
“You want to finish the piece and have it published.”
Meredith savored the taste of her fine vintage Bordeaux. “That’s exactly what I said. That’s why I called you.”
“And here I was thinking it was because you wanted me,” Isaac said.
“That would make you delusional, not optimistic.”
“Ouch.” He placed his hand over his chest. “Remind me to protect my heart from you, merciless woman.”