Page 16 of Kill You Last


  Beth nodded. “It was probably too painful for her.”

  “And Dad fooling around?”

  “A way of punishing her?” Beth said with a shrug. “I mean, that’s just speculation. We’ll never really know. I asked her once why your dad had moved his studio out of the city so suddenly and after so many years.”

  I stared at her, realizing what the answer would be. “She caught him?”

  Beth nodded. “She hoped there’d be less temptation for him in Soundview…looks like he proved her wrong.”

  “But why stay together all this time?” I asked.

  Beth’s eyes widened slightly. “Because of you,” she said, as if it were obvious. “They both love you very much.”

  “But if Mom loved me, then why would she…,” I began, then let the words trail off.

  Beth slowly shook her head. “Has anyone ever been able to explain mental illness? Your mom’s not the only mother who ever lost a child. And probably not the only one who was blamed for it by her husband. But for her, I guess it must have become too much to cope with.”

  “But to kill those girls when she herself had a child who’d died …”

  Beth didn’t answer. We watched travelers pass, carrying backpacks and pulling luggage, as if reminding me that even though what had happened in my family had stopped everything, life around us continued.

  “I have a question for you,” Beth finally said. “What do you think set her off? Your dad moved the studio almost three years ago, but the killings didn’t start until last year.”

  “I’ve thought about that. I mean, I wonder if for the first couple of years after Dad moved the studio, she didn’t know what was going on? Or maybe she just convinced herself that the problem was fixed? And then something must have happened that…you know, made her realize she’d never be able to stop him?”

  Beth nodded. “I guess the truth is…we’ll never really know.”

  Chapter 45

  SOMETIMES WHAT SCARES me the most is how close Mom came to getting away with it. She was the one who interviewed office managers and hired Janet. I even have a feeling that somehow she figured out that Janet wasn’t who she said she was. Mom planted the mud from the murder scenes in Janet’s car and put the rope in her trunk. She sent the e-mail about killing me last because she knew it would throw me off the track. Who would think that her own mother would send an e-mail like that?

  She killed Gabriel because she knew if he went to the police about Dad’s escapades with young women, we would lose everything, including my chance to go to Sarah Lawrence.

  If her mad need for revenge or justice or whatever was going on in her mind had not compelled her to go after Ashley, she might never have been caught. Ashley told the police that Mom had actually begun to kneel on her chest when she heard Whit and me coming and went out to investigate. If we hadn’t gotten to them when we did, Ashley might have died, too.

  After she was arrested, Mom told the police where to find the third missing girl. She admitted that she’d figured out Dad’s passwords and read his e-mails to find out which girls he was fooling around with. The scary thing was, when the police searched her car, they found the files of two more girls she hadn’t yet gotten to.

  Mercedes had suspected Mom ever since she’d seen her go into the office on several Thursday evenings when she was supposed to be at her book club. Mom must have assumed everyone was gone, but Mercedes had been at the corner waiting for her ride home.

  Mom was found to have a severe personality disorder but was deemed able to stand trial. Murder trials take a long time to prepare, and hers only recently ended. As of this writing, she is in prison awaiting sentencing, having been found guilty of second degree murder. I visit her every weekend.

  Janet told the police that she was the one who’d hit Whit on the head that night in the studio. Worried that the detectives might discover her real identity, she’d gone back after dark to make sure there was no evidence in the office that might arouse their suspicions.

  Dad was found guilty of statutory rape and sentenced to a year of weekends in jail, as well as ordered to enroll for psychological treatment. In addition, more than half a dozen civil suits have been filed against him. He sold the house, the Ferrari, and all his photography equipment, and he still had to file for bankruptcy. He lives in a small apartment and works for an industrial photography company. We have dinner together once a week.

  It’s now one year later, the fall of my freshman year at college. Roman’s at Skidmore up in Saratoga Springs; I’m living in a dorm on the campus of SUNY Purchase, a state university I’m just able to afford, thanks to scholarship funds and the wonderful and incredible generosity of some people in Soundview.

  It’s not easy to be the daughter of a murderer, and of a con man who preyed on young women. People naturally assume that there must be something wrong with me, too. It’s hard for them to believe that no matter what my parents did outside our home, they still loved and cared for me just like most other parents do for their children. I’ve given up trying to explain; now I just look forward to the day when I become an ESL teacher. I’d like to teach overseas like Beth, in a place where no one knows who I am or what my parents did.

  In the hospital, the doctors discovered that Whit had a linear skull fracture and a concussion, but he’s completely healed now. We started dating pretty soon after everything happened. At first I wondered if I was with him only because I felt like I’d lost my family and needed emotional support, but that wasn’t why. He’s a strong, grounded, wonderful guy, and I’m deeply in love with him.

  I guess it should come as no surprise that he’s decided not to become a journalist. The public may crave sensational, lurid crime stories, but now that he’s seen one up close, he wants no part in reporting on them. Like me, he wants to be a teacher. We may never be able to afford a Ferrari or a fancy house in a place like Soundview, but we’ll be doing something good…in a world that needs it.

  TODD STRASSER is the immensely popular author of Wish You Were Dead and Blood on My Hands, the first two books of this cyber-thriller trilogy; The Wave; Give a Boy a Gun; Boot Camp; and the hilarious middle-grade Help! I’m Trapped … series. You can visit him online at www.toddstrasser.com.

 


 

  Todd Strasser, Kill You Last

 


 

 
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