Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Get to the point, Mari,” I say. I can’t take a second more of her rambling.
“Fine,” she says, huffing. “He paid me off.”
My mind takes a moment to wrap around those words and what all they could mean. “Who paid you off? For what?”
“Saint. Cam. Whoever he is. I caught him out there in the road that night he told you there was a police chase. There was no police chase.”
A tear spills down my cheek. I wipe it away angrily, upset that my sadness is breaking through my anger.
“At first, I saw the police lights and thought something actually happened. I almost woke up Louie, but decided I’d just go outside and walk down toward your place to have a look for myself. And that’s when I saw the guy. He was setting out fake police lights in the road. There weren’t any actual cops. No body. Just lights. He had some on his car. He put a couple on a tree out by your house.”
I finally concede and decide to take a seat. I plop down in the rocking chair, afraid my legs won’t hold me up for another second, as I listen to her continue.
“I confronted him. I’m not scared of people, and he was on our road being suspicious, so I asked him what the hell he was doing. I caught him red-handed. I told him I was going to call the cops, and that’s when he came clean. Said he knew you, and reassured me that he was just playing an innocent prank. I didn’t feel comfortable with that, so I demanded to know more. He showed me the lights and offered to show me his identification. Told me he was just there because you’re a writer and that you work better if things happen to you that you’re writing about. Hell, it sounded like a reasonable explanation, and he didn’t seem to be threatening. Promised I could wait out by the road until he left to make sure he didn’t kill you. He said he was just there to give you inspiration for your book. That it’s something you two worked up.”
“He said I knew about it?”
Mari nods. “Yep. I mean, he didn’t go into detail about how much you knew, but he said you asked him to scare you. And like I told you before, I know how it is to be an artist. Sometimes we gotta do things to get the juices flowing. I just figured it was some kind of kink, or a fetish that was between the two of you. I tried to mind my business, but I also wasn’t going to just let some stranger kill you. I did wait until he left.”
I rub my temples with my fingers, attempting to navigate everything she just said. That night was the first night I ever met Saint. He pretended not to know I was a writer. But if what Mari is saying is true and he already knew who I was . . . he’s been lying to me this entire time. This stranger has been lying to me and fucking me, and I have no idea who the hell he is.
“Why didn’t you call the police? Or tell me about it?” I am so angry at Mari, but the majority of my anger is with Saint. Or maybe myself. How could I have been so stupid?
“I threatened to. Trust me. I told him to get the hell off my property. But then he went and made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“An offer?”
“I believe I told you the first time I met you, before that night even happened with him, that I take any acting job if it pays. He offered to pay me to keep my mouth shut and just go along with his story if you asked me about it.”
I feel like crying. Screaming. “You took money from him? To lie to me?”
“Well, it sounds bad now,” she says. “But that night, it was exciting. And it’s not like I just walked away. I stood there while he was at your place, and he wasn’t there for very long. I made sure he didn’t kill you before I took the money.”
“So generous,” I spit. I am so angry with her, my head is throbbing.
“He paid me to pretend. It seemed like something a writer would get a kick out of, so I didn’t think it would harm you in any way. I love pranks, but I love money more than I love pranks, and when you put the two together with a man that good looking, how do you expect me to turn that down?” She’s looking at me like she’s expecting my forgiveness. My understanding.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” I say to her. Another tear falls from my eye, and she actually looks remorseful.