Page 79 of The Trap by Catherine
“The one who wasn’t in the papers,” she said. “Where was she from?”
“I’ve no idea,” he said. “But it happened in Wexford. Just outside of Enniscorthy.”
The crack split off in multiple directions, weakening the entire wall. It was hard not to push against it, to knock away the stone, to fling herself through.
“Is Nicki alive?” she asked.
“I told you, I didn’t kill her.”
“But is she OK?”
“You can see for yourself,” he said, “if you come with me.”
“Why do I need to go with you?”
“Because this will be over soon,” he said. “And they’ll put me away for a long, long time. So, in these final hours, I think I should get to do things the wayIwant, don’t you?”
“Where are we going?”
Another smirk. “You hardly think I’m going to—”
“How long is the drive?”
“At this time...” A glance at his wristwatch. “We’ll be there within the hour, depending on traffic. Long enough for me to answer all your questions on the way. And I will, Lucy. I promise you that much. I’ll tell you everything, right from the start.”
An hour’s drive.
Nicki was alive and had been within an hour of her home all this time.
But Lucy caught herself before that thought could grow roots and take hold. She didn’t know anything for sure. Nicki could equally be dead in a ditch somewhere and this guy could just be off his meds.
But if he was, why not claim Tana Meehan too?
“Is it an actual place?” she asked.
“We really should get going, Lucy.”
“Like a house or a barn or well?”
“Awell??”
“Or is it just some stretch of beach or forest or something, where you go to rape the women who tell you no?”
A hard look fell over his face like a guillotine. It changed his features, turning his eyes glassy and black. It made him look, just for a heartbeat, like an entirely different person. A person who, underneath, wasn’t really a person at all.
Then Lucy blinked, and the look was gone.
His face had softened again. He was back to the pleasant, open, almost friendly expression that he’d been wearing before.
“Maybe,” he said evenly, “you shouldn’t antagonize the only person in the entire world who can give you what you want.”
“Sorry,” she said, feeling sick.
“I accept your apology. And as a show of good faith, I will tell you something about it, OK? I’ll tell you its name. We call it the Pink House.”
The Pink House.
The blood in her veins turned to ice.
