Page 36 of Things We Do in the Dark
When she told Jimmy about it later, he laughed. Zoe was horrified.
“Jesus Christ, Jimmy, if you made that same joke today, you’d be canceled,” Zoe said. “Instantly. You need to issue an apology. Right away.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Paris said to Jimmy. “Pleaseget canceled. Maybe then they’ll leave us alone.”
Jimmy did not get canceled. He referenced the old joke at the beginning of the first special, owning up to it in a way that was funny, yet still sensitive. People forgave him. TheywantedJimmy Peralta back. But it was only a matter of time before someone from Paris’s old life saw photos of her in her new life.
The first blackmail letter arrived a month later.
Paris reaches for the cardboard box and opens it. Ripping off the tape, she begins pulling the letters out, a few at a time. A quarter of the way through, she sees it.
Lavender-colored, birthday-card-size, two Canadian stamps in the top-right corner, mailed all the way from the women’s prison in Sainte-Élisabeth, Quebec. It’s from an inmate currently serving a life sentence for the murder of her lover in the early nineties. Her name is Ruby Reyes, and the media back then had nicknamed her “the Ice Queen.”
She’s also the woman whose daughter Paris killed nineteen years ago.
CHAPTER NINE
Of all the people Paris thought might track her down, she never thought it would be Ruby Reyes.
But of course they have TVs in prison, with access to shows likeEntertainment Tonight, and magazines likePeopleandUs Weekly. Sainte-Élisabeth Institution is a women’s correctional facility, not a bunker. The assumption that Ruby wouldn’t be the one to find her was Paris’s first mistake.
Her second mistake was not paying her.
When the first blackmail letter arrived, it was sitting innocently in the box with the rest of her husband’s fan mail. Jimmy was busy signing photos, Zoe was sealing and stamping all the return envelopes, and neither of them noticed that Paris’s heart nearly stopped when she plucked the lavender-colored envelope from the box and saw who the sender was. Neither did they notice when she slipped it under her shirt with shaking hands before excusing herself to go to the bathroom, where she locked the door, read the letter, tore everything into pieces, and flushed it all down the toilet.
Paris rips open the new envelope and pulls out a photo and a letter handwritten on matching lavender notepaper. It was dated a week ago, which means that when Ruby wrote and mailed it, Jimmy was still alive.
Dear Paris,
I have to admit I’ve been disappointed every time the mail arrives and there’s no response from you. I understand how famous Jimmy is, now more than ever, and he must receive mail from fans all over the world. I’m looking forward to watching his new comedy special on Quan as soon as I’m out of prison, once someone teaches me how to do it (ha ha).
And yes, you read that correctly. After a whirlwind hearing filled with so much drama, the Parole Board of Canada has decided that I am no longer a danger to society. After twenty-five years in this hellhole, I’m being released from Sainte-Élisabeth at the end of this month.
In light of this wonderful change in circumstance, I think it makes sense to increase the original amount I requested. I’ll need somewhere to live once I’m back in the regular world, and I’ve heard Toronto real estate is very expensive now. I feel an amount of three million dollars is appropriate for a fresh start.
I have several interviews lined up in the coming weeks, and what I say to those journalists will depend entirely on whether you’ve paid me what I’m owed. It’s the least you can do, considering what you’ve taken from me.
In my next letter, I will send you the information for the bank account where you can wire the money.
My warmest regards,
Ruby
P.S. I sent you a photo. Thought you might like a reminder of the life you decided to destroy.
P.P.S. Perhaps, once our transaction is complete, you’ll tell me the story of how you became Paris. In particular, I’m dying to know whose ashes are in the urn with your real name on it.
Paris drops the letter onto the coffee table.No. It can’t be true. Ruby Reyes cannot actually be getting out of prison. The Ice Queen received alife sentence for the brutal murder of her wealthy, married lover, a crime that made headlines back in Toronto in the nineties. In what fucked-up world could someone like that make parole? And in what fucked-up world would any journalist want to hear what Ruby Reyes has to say aboutanything?
With shaking hands, Paris grabs her new iPhone. The woman is a liar, after all, and until she sees it for herself, she won’t believe a word Ruby says. Opening Safari, she googlesRuby Reyes Ice Queen Toronto.
But, oh God, it’s true. There it is, in theToronto Star. Everything after the headline and first few sentences is behind a paywall, but there’s enough of the article showing to confirm that Ruby isn’t lying. They really are letting her out, and in all the ways Paris’s mind permutated the possibilities of what might happen once she left Toronto, Ruby Reyes being released had never once occurred to her. The woman was convicted of first-degree murder. The Ice Queen was supposed to die in prison.
In her first letter, Ruby asked Paris for a million dollars. A few months ago, that had seemed utterly ridiculous. What does an inmate serving a life sentence need a million bucks for? How much can commissary snacks cost? The only logical reason Paris could come up with for an ask like that was that Ruby wanted to fuck with her, to see if Paris would paysomethingto keep her quiet.
But now Ruby wantsthreemillion. And if Paris doesn’t pay her,everyonewill know who Paris really is. And it won’t just be Jimmy’s death she’ll go down for.
The only thing worse than a murder charge?Twomurder charges.
