Page 83 of Iris' Lying Eyes
Was it Alice? Or did someone move the body?
I hope it was Alice. I hope this girl was returned to her family. If she was, she was one of the few. Countless others either lie in a shallow grave or wish they did, depending on where they ended up.
Dusting off my hands, I rise and glance around the space. The senator’s casual disregard for his daughter leaves an ashy taste in my mouth. I know I started us on this course, but can I really live with myself if it goes through to its tragic end?
I’ve spent so much time focusing on saving the ones I love; I’ve refused to acknowledge that the others are loved too. Mothers, fathers, lovers, friends—they wait for a resolution they may never receive.
Not unless I do my part. It’s time to reveal more hidey holes. If I’m lucky, it’ll bring down John in the process, but regardless, there are girls who need to go home. It may not be in the form their families hoped, but it’s better than never knowing.
This is a risk. I’m exposing more than just John and Roman. But I’m tired of waiting, and the promises made are starting to reek of lies.
With a fatalistic shrug, I leave the hatch open, the door too, and march down the street to the waiting cab.
I’ve traded my body and soul to be free, but I’ve never gotten anything in return.
I guess it’s time to reveal the secrets I’ve cultivated over a lifetime.
Chapter Seventeen
Although I know this is a one-way ticket back to Bastion, I go to Jig’s cabin. Luckily, one of the windows on the ground floor is unlocked, and I shove my tired body through the hole.
The information I packed over here remains where we left it, on the kitchen island, and with a sigh, I start searching the cupboards.
It’s sheer paranoia, but I’m not ready to expose myself just yet. So, with rubber gloves I found beneath the sink, I place John’s papers in an envelope along with a short note and list of locations I know are used in his business, including the farm and the cabin.
It’s possible the police will receive this and throw it away, which makes me pause. Dare I? I haven’t watched the news. I don’t know what’s being reported about Liberty, if anything, but if she’s listed as missing, this will at least get someone’s attention.
Unfortunately, all roads lead back to me. I’ve been with John for years. There’s no way I’m going to escape the attention. Truthfully, dealing with the authorities never crossed my mind. John always seemed so all-fucking-powerful, I never worried about being picked up, and in my world, you don’t snitch.
Ice Man. Pulling out another piece of paper, I write Bobby Patterson in big block letters and circle it before shoving it in the envelope.
I know he was informing on Castinetti, his last-ditch effort to save his family. Hopefully, this will grab the attention I need without bringing the senator into it. It would be unwise to piss off the powers that be, at least more than I already am, so I hope this little diversion will work to my advantage. If they think it’s remnants of Ice Man’s efforts, it buys me more time.
After a quick trip to the post office, where I pay at a kiosk with cash, I exit feeling . . . numb. I’ve started something I can’t take back. Now I have to finish this with John and convince Bastion that whatever he’s up to, he can let it go.
Beyond that, let the chips fall. There’s no way this won’t implicate Roman and so many others.
∞∞∞
My best bet is to go back to Bastion. If I can convince him that the game is in play, maybe he’ll back off. It’s almost midnight when I exit the cab at his house and trek up the hill.
One of his goons steps into the light of the front porch, and I stop at the steps, asking, “He home?”
The goon shakes his head, but I see him reaching for his phone. I’m sure B will be informed of my arrival before I make it up the stairs.
It’s disturbing that I feel a modicum of relief at being back, but I refuse to admit that this place feels as close to a home as any I’ve ever had. My childhood place lost the glow a long time ago.
Since I’m here, I think I’ll take advantage of the soaking tub in the fancy-ass bathroom. My bones hurt from all the walking.
It’s only as I’m traversing the stairs that I realize I’m here alone. Where’s Roman?
His threats from before echo in my ears as I approach my new, disgustingly pink room, and I half consider going back out the front door and waiting for Bastion with his guard.
No, I’ll lock myself in the room. It’ll be fine, but my heart drops to my toes when I reach the landing and find him standing at my bedroom door. Shit.
Slowing, I glance behind me and drop my bag. This is it, what I’ve expected since his threats on that first day. I walked right into it too. Is the grunt outside within screaming distance? Where’s the mousy maid?
Roman steps down the hall, his eyes greedy as he takes me in. Cautiously, I reach for the banister and glance down before stepping backward down the stairs.