Page 158 of One of Us Is Guilty

‘You didn’t really think you were going to get three billion dollars, did you?’ he said, smiling.

Now was the moment.

She flung the glass at him, holding on to the stem, making sure that the liquid hit his stomach and chest and didn’t go anywhere near his skin or eyes. Then let the flute fall to the carpeted floor.

‘You’re a real bitch,’ he said. ‘You’ll do well to walk out of here alive. Patrick, get this fucker out of here. She gets nothing from us.’He pushed her out of his way, then gripped his wet shirt and tuxedo, pinching it so that the soaked fabric stayed off his skin. He strode into the bathroom and closed the door.

Vanessa took the bathroom key from her purse, ran to the door.

Carefully, silently, she inserted the key.

And locked the door.

She heard him inside, swearing, and then, the sound of the cold-water faucet running. It wouldn’t take long for whatever residual water there was in the system to drain away.

She took the key from the lock.

Held it in her hand.

And stared at her husband, maybe for the first time.

He was trembling. Tears streaked his face.

Vanessa listened to the pipes groan as air was forced through them, the water almost gone.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Patrick.

‘I know. I’m sorry too.’

She walked forward, gave him the key and said, ‘I can’t do it. It has to be you.’

He stared at the black key in her palm.

His shaking hands reached for it.

Vanessa was transported back, months before, to the last night she had spent in the house in Manhattan.

She was headed up the staircase, away from Patrick, away from his questions about the bracelet, when he said to her,

‘There’s something I need to tell you . . .’

She had later told Flynn that Patrick had confessed to her that he had killed Molly. Another lie. But a necessary one, just like all the others.

What Patrick had told her that night was very different. And Vanessa had no doubt that it was the truth.

‘There’s something I need to tell you . . . I didn’t kill Molly. And you might not believe me, but for the first time in my life I’m going totell you the truth. The whole truth. Yes, I was sleeping with her, and I’m sorry, but I swear I didn’t kill her. I found her journal and I panicked. She wasn’t who she’d said she was. Her real name was Willow Chase. She was out for revenge. She got close to me so that she could ruin me, ruin my political career. Maybe even worse. Maybe kill me. I thought . . . I thought I loved her. I told her I’d found her journal, that I knew she had been lying to me, and that I now knew who she really was, and I stormed out of that apartment without another word and called my dad. I told him what had happened, and he said he’d take care of it. Like he did with Teresa, only, I swear, Teresa was an accident.

‘We were young and we were partying, I was still taking coke and too much booze, and Teresa, she was pretty wild too. She fell, Vanessa. She was dancing on the kitchen counter in the Hamptons house and she slipped, and she fell on her head. There was so much blood. I was out of my mind on drugs, and Teresa, she . . . she was dead. She’d broken her neck. She was gone. There was nothing I could do. I called my dad, and he told me not to call the paramedics or the police, that I should just change my clothes and get out of the house. He said he would take care of it, that this could ruin us.

‘Molly, she . . . she was Teresa’s half-sister. The one they could never find, Willow Chase. She had come after me. I only read the first few pages of her journal, but it was clear what she had in mind. My dad said that he would have to take care of Willow, that we were in too far now. That I shouldn’t worry, that he would do it. I swear I didn’t know he was going to kill her. I thought he was just going to pay her off. I can’t live with this any more. I swear to you, Vanessa, I’m telling you the truth. He’s a very dangerous man, and he could kill me too, if I tried to tell anyone. He’d kill you too if he found out that I’d told you any of this. I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared, and I’m so sorry.’

Vanessa said, ‘Patrick, I believe you, but we have to stop him now. He’s framed me for Molly’s murder. He covered up that poor girl’s deathin the Hamptons and you’ve been carrying that guilt ever since. Together, we have to make sure he can never harm anyone else ever again. He’s tortured you for your whole life. He wants you to be like him. But you’re not, Patrick. You’re not your father. There’s still time to stop him. To put an end to this once and for all before it’s too late for you and me . . .’

Now, standing in the second-floor living area, the pipes wailed as the water in the system ran out.

Vanessa handed Patrick the bathroom door key.

He took it, gave her the divorce agreement and his pen.