Page 71 of Ruthless Riches
17
Nate
Sascha didn’t answermy calls or texts all afternoon. She didn’t answer in the evening, either.
Around midnight, I went to her apartment and let myself in—I still knew how to sneak in from months ago, when I was trailing Alexis—and she wasn’t there. When she finally got back to me the following morning, she told me she’d been at the apartment all day and night, sleeping off the effects of the Roofie on the couch.
Now I knew for a fact that she was lying.
She’d been out somewhere else all afternoon and night. Somewhere like the Satan’s Penthouse tunnels, most likely.
I still couldn’t quite believe that she was the Butcher, but at the same time I couldn’t deny it any longer. She’d clearly eaten those laced chocolates over the last few months, and they’d pushed her into a deep state of psychosis and kept her there.
Whoever she was right now… it wasn’t really her. She was disconnected from reality. Delusional and paranoid.
I never noticed the changes in her because I never paid much attention to her. I was always so focused on Alexis.
Now I realized I didn’t even know Sascha. Not the real Sascha, anyway. Maybe I’d seen glimpses of her over the last few months, but that was it. The version of Sascha I currently knew was a monster unknowingly created by her grandfather.
I clenched my jaw and mentally ran through the script I’d prepared. Then I dialed Sascha’s number. This time, she answered right away.
“Hey,” she said. Her tone sounded flat. Depressed. “What’s up?”
“Not much. I just wanted to chat about a few things,” I said. “Are you feeling okay today?”
“Yeah. I mean, I still feel like shit about Alexis, obviously, but at least the horrible headache from the Roofie is gone.”
“That’s actually why I called,” I said. “Alexis.”
There was a short pause on the other end of the line. She was probably worried I knew something. “Oh?”
“With her gone, we’ve both been feeling like total shit all the time, right?” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I figured it might help if we support each other more. In person, I mean. So I thought we should start spending more time together.”
“That sounds nice,” she said. “Maybe we can have dinner tonight.”
“I was actually wondering if I could come and stay at the apartment for a while. In Lexie’s old room.”
Sascha went silent for a few beats. “Um… I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she finally replied in a reluctant tone. “I think I need to be alone right now. Being around other people just reminds me that Alexis isn’t around.” She sniffed and went on. “At least when I’m alone I can process stuff. Do you know what I mean?”
The cracks in her story had become chasms. Just yesterday, she told me she was coping with Alexis’s disappearance by spending extra time at the art studio, because being around other people helped to take her mind off everything. Now she was claiming something else entirely.
“I get it,” I said. “But think about it, okay? If I come and stay with you, I’ll be closer to the city, so it’ll be easier for me to stay on top of the police. I’ll be able to help you, too. I can clean up when you don’t feel like it. Keep you company. I can even drive you around or walk you to wherever you need to go. After all this Roofie shit happened, that should help you feel a bit safer, right?”
This time, there was an even longer pause on the end of the line. I knew there was no way Sascha would want me sticking to her like glue, because she needed a lot of time alone to sneak down to the tunnels or hunt for future victims.
On the other hand, letting me stay at the apartment would be a good opportunity for her to get close to me. Keep tabs on me. Work out how much I already knew and how much I was going to figure out in the future.
“You know what?” she said slowly. “You’re right. You should stay over tonight.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way if it’s not cool with you.”
“It’s okay. We can talk about it over dinner and make a plan,” she said. “We can have a few drinks, too. I think we both need it after all the shit that’s happened.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line as she spoke. I was willing to bet anything that I knew her plan for the evening. She was probably going to slip something into my drink to knock me out early. That way she could sneak out of the apartment while I was passed out in Alexis’s bed, and she’d know there was no chance of me catching her.
