Page 83 of Paging Dr. Hart
“Did you plan it all along? Taking the money and abandoning me? Whose idea was it? Yours or Shelly’s?” Bitterness fills my words. It curls poisonous around each syllable. I’ve waited for so long to ask that question.
Surprisingly, he answers. “It was all Shelly. She was the mastermind, planned the whole thing.” He gives me a shrewd glance. “You always underestimated her. Besides, we gave you some money. We didn’t take it all.”
“A small fraction of the money and then you left.” I shake my head. “Anyway, we shouldn’t have done it. We shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Yeah, but we did, and I bet you used that money, even though it was dirty.” A knowing look from him. “Didn’t you?”
My silence is all the admission Rafe needs. A cruel, satisfied smile expands across his face. “Thought so.”
I almost argue with him, explaining how I had no choice. How after my mother died, that money was the only way to get free of her medical debt. But I stay quiet because it’s a lie.
There’s always a choice.
“It was still wrong,” I persist. “I shouldn’t have done it. I especially regret lying to Stewart. He deserved better than that.” There’s the bitter sting of tears in the back of my throat, but I won’t let Rafe see me cry.
“You lied to Stewart, and we lied to you. On and on, that’s how it goes.Welcome to the real world, Tiffany. It’s not all rainbows and sunshine. Everybody lies.” He’s matter of fact about it, like this is some universal truth he’s explaining.
I don’t buy it. Ethan’s never lied to me. He’s proven that not everyone takes from each other without giving back. My mother and Mr. Chen weren’t like that either. Rafe may live in a pessimistic world, but it doesn’t have to be my reality. For years, I’ve lived isolated from other people, scared of exactly that. I refuse to live that way any longer.
He continues, “I used to feel bad for you. I knew what you were going through with your mom, but now I don’t feel sorry for you anymore. Look at you. Living this sweet life you’ve made for yourself.” Jealousy colors Rafe’s cheeks a blotchy red. “While I’ve been on the run this whole time. We were both there that night. We both did the crime, but I’m the one who paid. The way I figure, you owe me.”
His eyes glitter with malice. The boy I once knew is gone, replaced by a resentful and angry man. “That’s why I started sending you those text messages.”
I gasp. “That was you?” I figured it was him or Shelly, but still the admission rocks me. All these past months I’ve been tortured, wondering, worrying about those messages. Who sent them and what they meant.
It washim. Rafe. He was behind it all along.
He nods. “I could tell you’d deliberately forgotten us. Buried your past. I need you to get a shovel and dig it back up. I wanted to trigger your memories. You’re going to find those diamonds for me. I’ll retire to some tiny island and drink pina coladas for the rest of my life.” He has a distant expression, like he’s picturing this idyllic future.
“And if I can’t find the diamonds?” I counter.
Rafe moves faster than a cobra striking, his face suddenly in front of mine. “There’s noif. You better find them.” I shrink back against my seat, retreating from the fury I see in his eyes. “You’ll be punished if you fail. If you don’t believe me, well, you obviously didn’t know who I was back then and you sure as hell don’t understand who I’ve become now.”
For the first time, I’m truly afraid of him.
67
When I pull the rental car into the Starlight parking lot, the sense of déjà vu is so vivid that I expect to look over and see Shelly in her devil costume sitting next to me. But there’s no Shelly, only a glowering Rafe.
There are fewer cars in the lot now, and some of them appear abandoned, like they’ve been here for years. These cars lean drunkenly, their black tires slouching deflated against the ground. Weeds grow out of cracks in the asphalt and, grasping, clamber their way up into the cars’ rotted undercarriages.
Rusted and dented No Trespassing signs cling to bent wire fencing.
The building also looks more worn. Only a few windows on the uppermost floors remain intact. The rest are shattered, with jagged glass lining their edges like the gnashing teeth of some terrible monster.
I could swear the whole structure leans drunkenly to the left. A wing of hotel rooms on the west end has completely collapsed. That side of the building is flayed open, its outer walls crumbled away, so the floors have fallen on top of each other like layers in a rotten cake. A barricade is in front of the building, a concrete half wall, easy to climb over, with a red and black sign that says “Danger, Keep Out.”
“Are you sure it’s safe to go inside?” I fidget nervously, staring between the sign and the fractured casino. “It doesn’t seem structurally sound.”
A grunt is all I get in response. Rafe’s head is down as he digs through his backpack. Like a messed-up version of Mary Poppins, he pulls out two long heavy-duty flashlights and hands one to me. I resist the urge to hit him on the back of the head with it. Pretty sure I could knock him unconscious. How good that would feel, to have the reverberations from the blow travel up my arm. To watch him slump to the ground and then run for help, screaming.
But I don’t.
Who knows if this mysterious person who holds a second copy of my show-girl picture even exists? But if they do and they post the photo like Rafe threatens, I’ll end up in a worse position.
No. Better to give him what he wants and then plead to be released.
Rafe didn’t used to be a killer…at least not as far as I knew.
