With my left hand, I reach out to touch the doorknob, my fingers sliding over the unlocked latch at its center.
“Anyway, I also want you to know that I had a really great time last night. It was amazing. All of it.”
I grasp the latch between my thumb and forefinger. Holding my breath, I turn it upward, my left arm twisting at an odd angle. Pain pinches my knuckles.
Then my wrist.
Then my elbow.
I keep turning the latch, millimeter by millimeter.
“As for what happened, well, I don’t want you to think I usually move so fast. I was—”
The lock slides into place with a noticeable click.
Nick hears it and stops, waiting for me to make another sound.
Beside me, the doorknob turns.
He’s testing the lock, moving the knob back and forth.
After another breathless second, he resumes talking.
“I was caught up in the moment. I think we both were. Not that I regret it. I don’t. It’s just, I want you to know I’m not that kind of guy.”
Nick departs. I hear his footsteps retreating. Still, I remain at the door, not moving, afraid he’ll suddenly return.
But I heard what he had to say.
He isn’t that kind of guy.
I believe him.
He’s someone else entirely.
36
I pace the sitting room, crossing back and forth in front of the windows. Outside, night settles over Central Park with silent swiftness, coating it in darkness. Bow Bridge has become a pale strip over black water. A single person strolls across it, oblivious to the fact that she’s being watched.
Like I used to be. Just a day or two ago.
I envy her ignorance. I wish I could go back to that blissful state.
But there’s no coming back from what I know.
I keep pacing from one wall to another, confronted by faces in the wallpaper no matter which direction I turn.
Those faces.
They know what Nick is.
They knew it all along.
A serial killer.
I know how improbable that sounds. I know it’s crazy. That I’m even considering the idea terrifies me.
Yet a pattern has emerged. Of girls coming here. All of them desperate and broke and without family. Then they disappear without warning or explanation. It’s a scenario that’s been played out at least three times.