Chapter Eight Her

Chapter Eight Her

Six Months Earlier

I waited for Richmond to return to the table with a fancy drink I had no intention of tasting. Three weeks of following him

led me to this Brooklyn neighborhood and a dark-walled bar with a speakeasy vibe. He’d been nearby giving some sort of speech

at a conference and stopped off here, likely to troll for a new woman to sleep with, which turned out to be perfect timing

for me.

After a bit of flirting from across the room, he made his move. All smiles and deep voice, and now we sat in a dark corner,

a few hours before rush hour.

Target acquired. Connection made.

He slipped into the booth, bringing his body close enough that his expensive cologne clashed with my drugstore vanilla bath

gel. A vision of stabbing him with the toothpick holding the olive in my drink floated through my mind, but I refrained.

“You don’t look like a Janet.” His smile suggested he thought that was a good line.

“Who do I look like?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” His finger slipped over the back of my hand as he leaned in. His breath blew across my ear. “What do you want me to call you? And how will it sound when I whisper it in bed?”

Much closer and he’d be on my lap, and I would lose it on him. Forget timing and practice, this guy made me want to smash

his face in. “You’ll know soon enough, Dr. Dougherty.”

“Call me Richmond.”

Asshole .

“I love a woman who goes after what she wants.” He took another peek down the deep V of my neckline. “I’m imagining how good

you’ll look naked on white sheets.”

No way that line worked on any woman. He sounded like a serial killer.

“You don’t have to be somewhere, like the hospital?” Continuing the aren’t you that important doctor? ruse to stroke his ego would make the fall even harder. “Your time must be in huge demand.”

He laughed. “I can take a break to see what you’re hiding under that beautiful dress.”

That called for an eye roll but I held it in. “What if I said nothing ?”

“I think we should go somewhere and talk about that.” He trailed his fingers up my thigh and under the hem of my skirt. “You

can show me.”

Yeah, time to wrap this up.

My hand covered his, stopping its upward climb. “Your wife won’t come after me, will she?”

He winked. “We have an understanding.”

Sure, they did. “Did you have an understanding when you were in high school?”

His body stilled before he pulled back. “What?”

“The school shooting. The stories about you being a hero.” I did the winking this time. “We both know that’s bullshit. Does your wife know and did she back then? You were high school sweethearts, so it’s a valid question.”

“What the hell is this?” His flirty tone and sly smile disappeared in a flash of anger. “I don’t know what you think—”

“Your tough guy posturing doesn’t impress me. It won’t scare me off.” I moved the drink to the side and out of spilling range

since I planned on returning the expensive dress. “I know better.”

“Listen, you little bitch.” He bent forward, closing the distance between us until his body almost surrounded mine. His voice

didn’t rise but his demeanor switched from inviting to threatening. Fury thrummed off him.

The bartender shot me a look of concern, but I shook my head before turning back to the hovering doctor and his intimidation

tactics. “I thought you wanted to see me naked.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to.”

“A liar.” I waited to see how that would land, but he stayed quiet. “Oh, did you think your do you know who I am garbage would work on me?”

To be fair, it worked on a lot of people. He’d scammed and lied his way into a prominent position and sterling reputation,

neither of which he deserved.

His hand balled into a fist on the table. “I’ll play along. What’s the goal here?”

“I know what you did back then. What really happened.”

“I saved my high school from a massacre. I was the hero that day.” He shoved away from me and started to stand up. “So why

don’t you slither back to whatever street corner you usually work. You’re losing money in here.”

A typical response and not a very original one. Instead of continuing the argument, I slipped a piece of paper out of my purse and placed it on the table. “That’s a map. A map you drew twenty-seven years ago.”

He glanced at it but his expression didn’t change. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Very cool. Impressive, but then he’d had a lot of practice perfecting his lying game. “It’s a map of the high school you attended.

All part of the plan you created then put in motion when you were a senior. Just seventeen and already ruthless.”

He slid back into the booth but not as close to me this time. “You should write fiction.”

“It’s your list of things to do that day.” I pointed to the notes on the side then to the stick figures and where they stood on the crude floor plan. “Your

drawing.”

His expression didn’t communicate anything. If he heard the gallop of his demented past catching up with him, he hid it well.

“Did you dream up this little scam all on your own?”

So charming. “Being a condescending asshole isn’t going to stop this conversation or what’s about to happen to you.”

“You’re pathetic.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “You have some big fantasy in your head about hitting the jackpot by besting

someone far superior to you.”

I looked around. “Is this mythical person in the room with us now?”

“This is quite a con.” He shook his head in a gesture designed to dismiss me. “But the free ride you’re hoping for? Not going

to happen, honey.”

“Well, sweetie .” I used the tip of my finger to circle the first-floor lockers on the map, a location that played a prominent role in his

heroic fable. “This area should look familiar. Should I read the list to you? Enter building through door closest to the gym at —”

“I can read.” No hitch to his voice. Only a slight uptick in anger.

“The staging of a scheme this big must have been difficult. Pretty sinister stuff for a high school kid. People died.”

“I know what happened.”

“Do you? Because this is one of several items, all debunking your hero story.” I pushed the map closer to him. “Every single

one of those items is in my possession. Put together, they show what a twisted fuck you really are.”

“Someone sold you a wild story. Sorry to spoil your hoped-for payday but this document is fake.” He picked up the paper, crumpled

it in his fist, and stuffed it in his suit jacket pocket.

“You know it’s a copy, right? I have the original. All the originals.”

“What’s the goal here, Janet... or whoever you are?”

“To dismantle your life.” Destroy everything he had and everything he cared about, ruin his reputation, take what I could

get, leave him begging for relief... then end him.

Fury radiated off him now and threaded through his voice. “This is asinine.”

His eyes narrowed and I almost laughed at how the scowl fit the real him better than those phony smiles. “I can see you mentally

plotting, thinking maybe you’ll threaten me or hurt me. Dig up my past. Dispose of me. To be fair, doc, you excel at that

sort of thing.”

“You seem to think I’ll write you a big check to keep you from spewing lies.” He scoffed as if he had leverage. “You don’t have the balls for this game, hon. You’re way out of your league. You can’t beat me. I will bury you. I have lawyers. Clout. Respect. Resources. What do you have? Nothing. A piece of paper anyone could have drawn.”

The look in his eyes didn’t match the strength of his mocking tone. Maybe not fear. Not yet. But interest. His mind likely

raced, trying to remember what evidence could be out there. What pieces of the truth he thought he’d buried long ago still

lingered.

“Imagine how your reputation will crumble when people learn the truth. Your job. Your family. All that money. Those articles

about you being a brave little hero.” I made an exploding gesture with my hand. “All gone.”

“Would anyone even care if you disappeared?”

There it was. Gloves off. The last of the pseudo-hero shimmer gone. The Mr. Nice Guy facade replaced by an empty shell. And

that’s how I thought of him. Vacant, hollow, and vicious.

“You should know you’re not the only one who can plan a spectacle. I took precautions. Hurting me, messing with me in any

way guarantees the information you fear most and probably believed no longer existed, up until a few minutes ago, will be

released to the public. So your sole job should be keeping me safe and happy.”

He shook his head. “This is all about money. For your kind, it always is.”

“You think you can call me names and I’ll slink away. You’re wrong.” So close to the final attack now. My smile refused to dim. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m definitely going to take your money. A lot of it. But that’s just a side benefit.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you drag me along on this fairy tale.”

“Unfortunately for you, very sane.” I picked up my glass and put it in front of him. “Drink up. We have a schedule to plan

if you hope to win my silence.”