Page 78 of Pretty Cruel Love

“Words, probably.”

“What words? What. Words?!” She doesn’t give me a chance to answer. She’s losing it.

“Tell me. Tell me now.”

I lean against the wall, watching her unravel.

“I’ve been working with a psychopathic murderer and didn’t know it…” she whispers, her voice cracking. “This whole time… That’s why you didn’t care we didn’t have help. That’s why you wouldn’t listen and turn this case down… It’s personal—she’s personal…”

“You’re making a lot of wild assumptions, Robin.”

“You knew who Sadie was long before she hit the news, didn’t you?” She’s spiraling. “You had to have known her… What was she—your girlfriend? Your accomplice? How did you two even meet?”

I wait for her to take a breath; I’ve never been good at fielding a dozen questions at once anyway.

“How the hell did you do it?” she demands. “Actually, don’t tell me. Legally, I have an obligation to report this, and I’m sure you knew that when you hired me as some sort of sick joke. But as your former friend?—”

“We were never friends,” I say calmly, stepping closer. “I hired you because you were the most thorough researcher and podcaster that’d ever been attached to the case. And if you were dead-set on her guilt and you’d done all the research in and out, I figured you’d be very useful to me.”

“So, all this was a setup.” She narrows her eyes. “A game to get your girlfriend locked up for shits and giggles?”

“It wasn’t a game. It was much-deserved payback for men who think they can slide rape under the rug like unwanted dust.” I pause. “By the way, you can now apologize for ever uttering the words‘potential rape.’I found that quite offensive.”

She says nothing.

“Sadie was never supposed to go to prison, let alone be found guilty at trial.” I address her other question. “That was a fuck-up on her part, but I vowed to do whatever it took to get her out… Seeing as though she really didn’t murder these men, it makes perfect sense.”

“How clever.” She scoffs. “If that was afuck-up,I wonder what you’ll call this one. What will they say when they find out that Dr. Weiss—the golden savior of innocents worn down by the system—is actually a killer?”

“You’re speaking in hypotheticals, correct?” I shrug, knowing I’d never get caught. “If that did happen, in some alternate universe, I’d probably be pissed they only report on these three murders, and not the countless others. Thes are my least remarkable by a long shot.”

Her mouth falls open.

“People like her former lawyer, the jury members who accepted money to find her guilty no matter what, and hmmm—” I pause to think about all the “missing” people on my list who’ve died at my hands. “I guess I’ll throw in the prison guard who lied on her in there, too.”

“You’re disgusting.” She backs toward the door.

“Out of what little professional respect I have left for you, I’ll give you a twenty-minute head start to leave before me.” She twists the doorknob, unaware that I locked it the moment we came inside. “Then I’m going straight to the police.”

“Twenty minutes is very generous of you, but…” I tilt my head, slow and curious. “You honestly think you’re leaving?”

35

SADIE

Back then...

Ihave a new job now.

Instead of arranging florals, I paint custom portraits online for my followers.

My office is a café on the edge of town, and I look forward to the occasional glimpse of a man who’s been starring in my fantasies.

Always dressed in a crisp button-down and freshly pressed dark slacks, he sits alone with his laptop. From what I’ve gathered, he’s some kind of doctor—successful enough to drive three cars: an Audi R8, a BMW, and a Porsche.

He’s also the only reason I can afford to eat here twice a week. The waiter told me he’s put over a thousand dollars on a tab just for me and said,“Don’t let her pay a dime.”

He’s never said a word to me, though.

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