Choose Me

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Choose Me Page 15

by Tess Gerritsen


  “Yeah, she was pretty. Prettiest girl in town. And she was smart, so smart. But that’s not good enough for them. His mother made that plain enough to me.”

  “His mother told you that?”

  “She didn’t have to. In our town, there’s certain families that just don’t marry each other. Your kids may go to the same school, and you shop at the same grocery store, but there are lines you don’t cross. That’s what I told Taryn, because I didn’t want her to waste her best years hoping and waiting. Gamble your heart on the wrong boy, and you’ll pay for the rest of your life.” She looks down again at the sweater and says softly: “I sure did.”

  “Tell us about him,” says Mac.

  “Liam? Why?”

  “We understand they were together a long time.”

  “Since they were kids. The only reason she applied to Commonwealth was because he was coming here. Everything she did was for him.”

  “Did he ever hurt your daughter?”

  “What? No.” Brenda is clearly startled by the question. “At least, she never said anything.”

  “Would she tell you about it? If he had hurt her?”

  She looks back and forth at Mac and Frankie, trying to understand why they’re asking these questions. “I don’t know that she would tell me,” she finally answers. “These last few weeks, she didn’t speak to me at all. If only I’d stood by her. If only I’d supported her, no matter what. I could have scraped together more money. I could have—”

  “This is not your fault, Brenda,” Frankie says gently. “Believe me, her death had nothing to do with you.”

  “Does it have to do with Liam?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Did you know they’d broken up?”

  Brenda shakes her head and sighs. “I’m not surprised.”

  “So she didn’t tell you about their breakup.”

  Brenda looks down again at the sweater she’s been obsessively stroking. “It seems she didn’t tell me a lot of things.”

  “Liam said they broke up months ago,” says Frankie. “He said Taryn was upset and she had a hard time accepting it.”

  “And was he upset?” Brenda snaps. “Did it bother him at all that my girl was dead?”

  “He did seem shaken up by the news.”

  “But he’ll move on. Men always do.”

  “Mrs. Moore,” says Mac, “was there anyone besides Liam in your daughter’s life? Another boyfriend, maybe?”

  “No. He was the only one.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  Brenda frowns. “Why are you asking about other boyfriends? Is there something you know that I don’t?”

  Mac and Frankie look at each other, neither one wanting to break the news.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this,” says Frankie. “But your daughter was pregnant.”

  Brenda cannot speak. She presses her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob, but the sound spills out anyway, a high, keening wail that breaks Frankie’s heart because she is a mother, too, and this is a mother’s shriek. Brenda rocks forward and hugs herself, her body shaking with quiet sobs. It is terrible to watch, and Mac looks away, but Frankie does not. She forces herself to bear witness to the woman’s agony, waiting silently, patiently, until Brenda’s sobs finally fade away.

  “Then you didn’t know,” Frankie says.

  “Why didn’t she tell me? I’m her mother! I should have known! Whatever she wanted, I could have helped her. We could have raised that baby together.” Suddenly she lifts her head and looks at Frankie. “What did he say about it?”

  “We haven’t asked Liam yet. We wanted to talk to you first.”

  “I can just imagine how he would take the news. And his parents? Their precious son marrying a girl just because he got her pregnant? Certainly not if it’s my daughter.” Brenda sits up straight, anger stiffening her spine. “So that’s why she killed herself. Because that boy wouldn’t marry her.”

  Frankie doesn’t immediately respond, and the silence makes Brenda frown.

  “Detective Loomis?”

  “There’s a great deal we don’t know,” Frankie finally says.

  Brenda looks at Mac, then back at Frankie. The woman is not clueless; she understands there is something crucial they haven’t told her. “Earlier, you asked me about Liam. About whether he’s ever hurt Taryn. Why?”

  “We’re looking into every possibility.”

  “Did he hurt her? Did he? ”

  “We don’t know.”

  “But you’ll find out, won’t you? Promise me you’ll find out.”

  Frankie looks her in the eye and says, mother to mother, “I will. I promise.”

  CHAPTER 26

  FRANKIE

  Golden boy Liam is not looking so golden this morning. Only a week ago, Frankie considered this aspiring lawyer a nice catch for anyone’s daughter. Now he is squirming in his chair and avoiding her gaze, proving he is every bit as flawed as any of the boys her own girls bring home. Maybe even worse.

  “I swear I told you the truth. I did break up with Taryn back in December,” he says. “But she wouldn’t accept it. I showed you my phone. You saw how she kept calling me, texting me. Sometimes she’d just pop up without warning, wherever I happened to be. I’d turn around and there she’d be. She kept stalking me, until that blowup in the restaurant I told you about.”

  “You told us you broke up with her last December,” says Frankie. “But when was the last time you had sex with her?”

  That question, asked by a woman his mother’s age, makes him flush. He looks at Mac, as if hoping another man will rescue him from this predicament, but Mac merely stares back, stone faced. “I don’t remember,” Liam mumbles. “Like I said, we broke up over Christmas.”

  “And the last time you had sex?”

  “Um, around then. I think.”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Trust me, it matters. And we want the truth, Liam. You’re a smart boy, and you’re headed to law school. So you know what happens when you lie to a police officer.”

  At last he seems to register the gravity of the situation. When he finally answers, his voice is barely audible. “Maybe it was, um, January.”

  “When in January?”

  “Right after we got back from Christmas break.”

  “At which time you already had your new girlfriend, didn’t you? Libby’s her name?”

  He glances at the bookcase, where there is a framed photo of a stunning brunette, her lips pursed seductively for the camera. Quickly he averts his gaze, as if ashamed to even look at it. “I didn’t mean to sleep with her,” he says.

  “What, did Taryn force you?”

  “I felt sorry for her.”

  “So it was a pity fuck,” says Mac.

  “I guess it was, in a way. She showed up here one night, out of the blue. We’d already broken up, and I wasn’t planning to sleep with her.”

  “Because you and Libby were already involved.”

  His head droops, and he looks down at his own shoes. Pricey athletic shoes, a brand a doctor’s kid would own. “You don’t know what Taryn was like. She was relentless. No matter how many times I told her we were through, she didn’t believe me. She wouldn’t stop texting me, harassing me. Following me around. It went on for weeks.”

  “Did she know you were seeing someone else?” Frankie asks.

  “Not at first. I didn’t tell her about Libby because I knew she’d go ballistic. She probably thought she could still get me back, and that’s why she showed up here that day.” At last his gaze rises to meet Frankie’s. “She walked in and just took off her blouse. Stripped off all her clothes. Unbuckled my belt. I didn’t want to do it, but she was so needy.”

  His message is obvious: I’m the victim here. No doubt that is what he truly believes, that Taryn overpowered him. That he was too weak willed to resist her advances. Weakness comes in many forms, and Frankie can now see that weakness i
n this young man’s face.

  “When did you find out Taryn was pregnant?” Mac asks.

  Liam’s chin snaps up. “What?”

  “When did she tell you?”

  “She was pregnant?”

  “You’re saying you didn’t know about it?”

  “No! I had no idea!” The boy looks back and forth at Frankie and Mac. “Are you serious?”

  “Tell us again when you last had sex with Taryn,” says Frankie. “And remember, it’s never good to lie to a cop. When we get back that pathology report, we’re going to know the truth.”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “You lied to us before, about when you last had sex with her.”

  “Because it looked bad. I was with Libby, and—”

  “And a pregnant ex-girlfriend would present quite the problem for you, wouldn’t it?” says Mac. “I imagine your hot new girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about it. In fact, Libby would probably be so pissed off, she’d drop-kick you out of her life.”

  “I didn’t know,” Liam murmurs. “I swear I didn’t.”

  “And what a bummer, having to be a father at your age. You’re only twenty-two, right? How can you go to law school when you’ve got a kid to support? It would blow up all your wonderful career plans.”

  Liam is silent, stunned by the nightmarish scenario Mac is painting.

  “Did you offer to pay for an abortion? That’s how other young men would probably handle it, young men who want to have a real future. Is that why you went to her apartment Friday night? To talk her into getting rid of the baby?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I’m guessing she said no. I’m guessing she wanted to keep it.”

  “I didn’t know about any baby!”

  “She was about to ruin your life, Liam, not to mention your new romance. Goodbye, Libby. Goodbye, Stanford Law School,” Mac continues relentlessly. “Taryn stood between you and your future. She was never going to go away. She was gonna keep her claws buried in you ’cause you were her golden ticket in life. I get it, son. I know exactly why you did it. Any guy would understand.”

  Liam jumps to his feet. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re trying to make it sound like I did! I’m going to call my dad.”

  “Why don’t you just sit back down and tell us the truth?”

  “I know my rights. And I don’t have to say another word.” Liam stalks into the bedroom and slams the door.

  “Did you really think he was going to confess?” says Frankie.

  Mac shrugs. “A cop can always hope.”

  Through the closed bedroom door, they can hear Liam talking to his father. “It’s nothing but bullshit, Dad. No, I didn’t say anything incriminating. That’s why I’m calling you. I need to know if I should call a lawyer.”

  Mac looks at Frankie. “That’s it. Now he’s not gonna tell us anything.”

  Of course he won’t, she thinks. With a rich dad and the best lawyers you can buy, pretty boy just might skate away. But not if she can help it.

  When Liam emerges from the bedroom, his face is flushed and his lips are tightly pressed together. “I’m going to ask you to leave,” he says.

  “Make it easy on yourself, son,” says Mac. “Just tell us what happened.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

  Mac sighs. “No.”

  “Then I don’t have to tell you anything. Now, I’m waiting for a call from a lawyer. Please leave.”

  They have no choice. They both stand up and head to the door. But there Mac pauses and turns.

  “If that’s your baby, Liam, you know we’ll be back.”

  “It’s not mine! It—it can’t be.”

  “Then whose is it?”

  “I don’t know!” He lets out a breath that’s almost a sob. “Maybe—maybe that fat kid knows who it is. He was always around her.”

  “Tell us his name.”

  “I don’t know his name. Maybe he’s on her Facebook page or something.”

  “We’ve already looked at her Facebook page,” says Frankie. “She had dozens of friends on there. Help us narrow it down.”

  Liam scrapes his hand through his hair. “Maybe . . . wait.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his calls. “After I blocked her, Taryn used someone else’s cell phone to call me. The number should still be on the log. Here.” He hands the phone to Frankie. “That’s the number she called me from. It could be that kid’s phone.”

  Frankie pulls out her own phone and dials the number on Liam’s screen.

  It rings three times, and then a male voice answers: “Hello?”

  “I’m Detective Frances Loomis, Boston PD. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

  “Um, w-what?”

  “I need to know your name, sir.”

  There is a long silence followed by a broken sigh. “Cody. My name is Cody Atwood.”

  CHAPTER 27

  FRANKIE

  Although he’s managed to pull himself together for this interview, it’s clear that Cody Atwood has been crying. His eyes are swollen, and his cheeks are bright pink, like a baby who’s just had his face slapped, and in the wastebasket nearby is a mound of wadded-up tissues. He slouches on his sofa, a misshapen lump among the puffy throw cushions, and he says nothing as Mac scrolls through the messages on the boy’s iPhone. The handover of the phone was a willing surrender, with no warrant necessary, which makes Frankie think the boy is either innocent or completely clueless. Or perhaps he’s just too distraught to think straight. Certainly he’s not stupid; he’s intelligent enough to make it to his senior year at Commonwealth, and Frankie takes note of the English lit and calculus textbooks on his desk.

  His apartment is larger and considerably nicer than Taryn Moore’s. It has a new stainless steel refrigerator, freshly painted walls, and on the bookshelf is a Canon camera with a missile-size telephoto lens. Money must not be an issue for Cody Atwood’s family. Despite his obvious trappings of privilege, the boy himself radiates neediness. Cody hugs himself, as though trying to make himself shrink from view, but when you’re as large as this boy, there’s no way to hide your size.

  “You and Taryn sure did exchange a lot of text messages,” Mac says.

  Cody nods. Wipes a hand across his nose.

  “You two were pretty close, huh?”

  A barely audible, “Yeah.”

  “Like, boyfriend-and-girlfriend close?”

  Cody’s head droops. “No.”

  “What was your relationship?”

  “We hung out.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We studied together. Went to some of the same classes. And sometimes, I’d do things for her.”

  “Things?”

  “Like take notes for her when she couldn’t make it to class. Lend her money when she came up short. She was on a pretty tight budget, and I wanted to help.”

  “Awfully nice of you. Not many boys would lend a girl money when she’s not an actual girlfriend. Did you expect something in return?”

  Cody’s head tips up, and Frankie can finally see his eyes, which are no longer half-hidden by the baseball cap. “No! I’d never—”

  “Did you want anything in return?”

  “I just wanted her to—to—”

  “Like you?”

  Cody’s cheeks flush an even brighter pink. “You make me sound like I’m some kind of loser.”

  In truth, that’s exactly what Mac is doing, and Frankie feels sorry for the boy. She feels sorry he must navigate a world dominated by all the privileged Liam Reillys who have never known rejection.

  Before Mac can ask his own question, she quietly interjects herself into the conversation. “You really cared about Taryn. Didn’t you, Cody?” she says gently.

  Her kindness disarms him. He wipes his eyes and turns away. “Yeah,” he whispers.

  “She was lucky to have such a good friend.”

  “I tried to be. I hated seeing her get hurt. And I’m sorry I let her talk me into spying
on them.”

  “Spying on whom?”

  “Liam and his new girlfriend. I followed them with my camera, and when I saw them together at the restaurant, I told Taryn. That’s when she fell apart.” He wipes his drippy nose. “She could’ve come to me. I would’ve done anything.”

  “Yes, I think you would have.”

  “But it’s like she couldn’t even see me. There I was, ready to help. I would never have taken advantage of her, the way he did. I think that’s what broke her heart. That’s why she did it.” Cody shakes his head in disgust. “I don’t know why he hasn’t been fired.”

  Frankie is confused. She looks at Mac, then back at Cody. “Are we still talking about Liam?”

  “No. Professor Dorian.”

  “A teacher?”

  “Yeah. We both took his English lit course. I could see there was something going on between them. The way she looked at him. The way he looked at her. I complained to the school, but nothing happened to him. He’s still teaching, while Taryn—Taryn . . .” Cody slowly exhales, and his head droops. “No one ever fucking listens to me.”

  Mac is already tapping on his smartphone, searching for information. “This professor, what’s his first name?”

  “Um . . . Jack.”

  “And he’s in the English Department?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cody,” says Frankie. “You said you complained about him to the school.”

  “I talked to some lady in the Title Nine office. She said—she promised—she’d follow up on it.”

  “What exactly did you tell her?”

  “I said something was going on between them. I thought he was taking advantage of Taryn. Everyone in the class could see she was getting special attention. It made me sick to think about it. Her involved with a guy that old.”

  “How old?”

  Mac looks up from his smartphone. “Forty-one, according to his bio. Real old.”

  “Do you think they were actually having an affair?” Frankie asks Cody.

  “I’m sure of it. That’s what I told the lady at Title Nine.”

  “Do you have any proof?”

  Cody hesitates. “No,” he admits. “But I could hear it in her voice, whenever she talked about him. How her life was going to change because of him. How she thought they could have a future together. The guy is twice her age.”

 

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