Confessions: The Private School Murders (14 page)

The apartment was locked. There had been no forced entry.

So Detective Caputo jumped to the obvious conclusion that we were prime suspects, that one or all of us had killed Malcolm and Maud.

Not that I could blame him.

We all had the means, the motive, and the opportunity. Every one of us in that tight family circle had good reason to kill Malcolm and Maud, who were, after all, very complex people whom many have described as monsters. Even me.

Still, I wish I could have prevented their deaths. I miss them. I loved them and I think they loved us, in their own twisted way.

But here’s a confession, my friend, and I tell you this with a true heart.

We’re better off without them.

I think maybe now we have a chance of becoming who and what we were meant to be. And I can’t keep Jacob’s words from scrolling over and over through my mind.

“I’ve saved hundreds of people in my lifetime. How about you?”

I’m making a promise to myself, and also to you. I
will
save lives. I hope I will save potential victims of the Private School Girl Killer. And, if I can, I will also save Matthew.

And, of course, that’s not all.

Wherever he is, whatever has happened to him, I will find James Rampling.

Don’t worry, love of my life. I have not forgotten about you.

26

I was walking with James
at the edge of the surf. The clouds blocked the moon and the stars, and the sky was coal black.

I started to tell James about the phosphorescence of the one-celled animals, and he squeezed my hand.

My heart caught. Dammit. This was supposed to be romantic and here I was giving a science lesson.

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I just start spouting this
stuff
.”

I could barely see his outline, but I knew his face so well. “I
love
listening to you spout,” he said.

I laughed. “Seriously?”

“I want to spend the next ninety years listening to you. And I couldn’t care less
what
you want to talk about,
whether it’s phosphorescence or what you ate for breakfast this morning. Sound like a plan?”

I pretended to consider. “Would we also eat and sleep?”

James laughed, and then the surf rolled in and covered our feet, so ice-cold it hurt. I squealed and danced away from the lapping waves, and James ran with me. He put his arms around my waist and hugged me hard. My breath hitched. It felt so good to be in his arms. It was where I belonged.

The surf rolled back, and James pressed his lips into the crook between my neck and shoulder. “I’d like to stay here forever,” he said, kissing my skin. “Right. Here.”

“Now,
that
sounds like a plan.” I sighed.

He turned me around and pulled me to him, bending to touch his mouth to mine. His lips were soft at first, but then forceful and demanding. As he crushed me tightly against him, I shivered with excitement.

“Are you cold?” James asked.

I shook my head, unable, for the moment, to find my voice. He cupped my face with both hands.

“Because we can go home, if you want to.”

There was a little house up in the dunes,
our
house, with three cozy rooms and a porch with a glider and a view of the ocean.

“Actually, I feel warm,” I told him. The wind whipped
my hair as I fumbled with the tiny buttons on the long cardigan I wore over my little skirt. “Just being near you makes me feel warm.”

That was when a roar came up like the sound of a typhoon. It was a heart-stopping, booming sound, loud and invasive, a noise that blocked out my very thoughts.

“What
is
that?” I yelled.

But before James could answer, the lights hit me from all directions, utterly blinding me. I reached out for James, groping against the brightness, but he was gone. From impossibly far away, I heard him call my name, then—

Nothing. Nothing but indistinct shouting and the crackle of handheld radios.

“James!” I screamed, still staggering, reaching out, trying to find him. “James! Where are you?”

And then a heavy sack fell over my head.

27

I sat straight up in bed,
gasping for breath.

Oh my God. Had I been dreaming?

“Tandy? Tandy. What’s wrong?”

It was Harry calling me from outside my door.

“I’m okay. I’m fine,” I told him, still struggling for breath. The doorknob twisted, but the door was locked.

“Let me in.”

“I’m on the phone with C.P.,” I lied. “What time is it?”

“Six fifteen. Were you screaming?”

“Um… singing,” I said.

“You scared the crap out of me!” he said through the door. Then he blew out a sigh. “You’ve got no ear. Whatever you were doing.”

“Ha-ha.”

I heard his footsteps clomp off down the hall, and I leaned back against my pillows, trying to remember my dream, but it grew more vague and slippery by the moment. I did remember the feelings, though, and those I could never have made up.

Was this dream of me and James on some beach, in fact, a memory? Or a fantasy? I closed my eyes and breathed, wishing I could trust my instinct.

This dream had felt real. It had felt so very, very real.

It was like James himself was inside me saying
Don’t forget me
.

I shoved myself out of bed, my heart bounding around like an excited jackrabbit. If I was starting to remember, then everything was about to change. If I could remember James, remember what had happened to us, then maybe I could find him. Maybe, just maybe, we could be together again.

As I reached for my bathrobe and headed to my private bathroom, I could practically hear Harry scoffing inside my head—Harry’s voice saying,
“Oh, God, Tandy, would you get a life?”

But suddenly there was no point in having a life unless James was in it.

CONFESSION

In the same way I get obsessed
with the details of a case I’m trying to crack, ever since I got off my parents’ special cocktail of drugs, I’ve been obsessed with the mystery of a single word:
love.
I’ve read just about everything that’s been written on the subject. Poetry and literature, psychology and science. And I’ve located one certifiable truth. Are you ready?

An emotional bond between two people can form in a fifth of a second.

Think about that. You can’t take in a breath and exhale it in one-fifth of one second. You can’t form a cogent thought in that tiny amount of time. You can’t even blink.

So I think I get it. I think love at first sight bypasses cogent thought.

That is what that first moment was like for me.

And that first kiss? Forget about it. It was just a kiss in the way that an earthquake is just an earthquake. It was life-changing, mind-altering perfection. My first kiss with James was so defining that nothing my parents did could wipe it from my memory. Even now, even today, I could still feel the sensation of our lips touching. They couldn’t take that from me.