Page 131 of The Lies I Told
Had he been this calm when he’d stripped Clare’s dead body and laid her in the river?
The man frowned, but it was the woman who reached for her phone. As she readied to dial, Jack hurried toward her. “Please, she’s sick, and we don’t want the police involved. With her record, they’ll put her back in the mental hospital.”
“He’s lying,” I rasped.
The doors to the building opened with a sudden rush of energy. David, breathless and pale, looked at me and then at Jack. “Jack.”
“She’s sick,” Jack said. “Tell them she’s sick. She needs help. We’re here to help her. I’m an old friend, and David is to be her brother-in-law.”
“That’s not true!” I shouted. “They aren’t trying to help me.”
The woman lowered her phone. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “She needs help.”
“We can help her,” David said.
“No!” I shouted. My head spun, and as I ran to the door, David grabbed my arm.
His face was oddly calm. “It’s okay, Marisa. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
I tried to snatch my arm free, but his grip was stronger than I’d ever imagined. My heart rammed against my ribs, and I thought back to the moment he had confronted Clare on New Year’s Eve. She must have been terrified when he wrapped these same hands around her neck.
“Let me help you, Marisa.”
I twisted my arm, straining against his iron grip. “Is that what you said to Clare?”
Mentioning her name caught him off guard for just an instant.
“Did she beg you to stop?” I shouted. “Did you even care that you were hurting her?”
“I never hurt your sister.” David glanced toward Jack, and I imagined them rehearsing the words over and over. His fingers bit deeper into my arm.
“Let’s get her to the hospital,” Jack said.
“Yes, the hospital,” David repeated.
I knew in my bones if we left this lobby, I would die. “I’m not going!”
Jack took my other arm, and when he glanced back at the couple, he was actually smiling, as if he were dealing with an angry toddler. “She’ll be fine. She needs a doctor.”
They pulled me toward the door as I tensed every muscle in my body. I wasn’t going to die without a fight.
Blue lights flashed on the walls, and when I turned, I saw the blue lights of two cop cars. Richards was taking the steps two at a time. He punched in the security code, gun drawn, and entered the lobby.
I screamed his name, never more grateful to see anyone in my life.
“On your knees, Dutton and Welbourne. Now!”
Jack shook his head. “She’s sick, Richards. She’s had a breakdown. We were trying to help her.”
“He’s right,” David parroted. “We’re here to help.”
“No!” I shouted.
“On your fucking knees!” Richards yelled.
Jack seemed to consider his options and then raised his hands and knelt. David’s grip slackened. I jerked my arm free and staggered away. He knelt and put his arms behind his head.
