Authors: Amy Gutman
tact. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Jamison, but it’s an urgent mes-29
sage. Lieutenant Lambert at the police station. He wants you to 30
call right away.”
31
h
32
33
Beneath the yellow glow of the porch light, Rick seemed ner-34
vous. A light rain was coming down, more a mist than a down-35 S
pour. Dressed in jeans, holding an umbrella, Rick was shifting 36 R
from foot to foot. For a split second, she softened toward him —
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he looked so vulnerable. But that was habit, nothing but habit.
1
She wasn’t going to give in.
2
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
3
“Callie,” he said softly.
4
She could tell that he’d had to stop himself from reaching out 5
to hug her. Quickly, she turned toward the living room. Rick fol-6
lowed her.
7
Callie gestured Rick to the couch. She sat down in a chair.
8
From across the room, they looked at each other. The distance 9
yawned between them.
10
Rick was sitting on the edge of a cushion, leaning slightly for-11
ward. As if he were trying in this small way to bring her closer to 12
him.
13
“I owe you an explanation,” he said.
14
“It doesn’t really matter.”
15
A look of pain crossed his face.
16
“It matters to me,” he said.
17
There were only a few yards between them, but he seemed very 18
far away. She wondered why she didn’t care, why she wasn’t more 19
curious.
20
There was a constant buzz in the back of her mind:
they know,
21
they know, they know.
Soon, her past would hit the news. It was 22
only a matter of time.
23
“Callie? Are you listening to me?”
24
“Yeah. Sure,” she said.
25
Rick sighed and flexed his knuckles, staring at his hands. He 26
seemed to be searching for a way to begin, perhaps waiting for her 27
to help. But when time passed, and she didn’t speak, he finally 28
started to talk.
29
“When I was a kid, I had this friend. His name was Billy 30
O’Malley. We went to school together, played sports, double-31
dated at the senior prom. My dad was an English professor. Billy’s 32
was a cop. You can imagine, if you’re a kid, which one is cooler.
33
The O’Malleys had this big, rambling house. Five kids, two or 34
three dogs. I was always hanging out there. It was just the best S 35
place to be.”
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Sitting erect in her straight-backed chair, Callie felt like a 2
statue. This story from Rick’s childhood had nothing to do with 3
her. Vaguely, she wondered what he was thinking, why he was 4
telling her this. But to ask him that, she would have to speak, and 5
that would take too much effort.
6
“When I was twelve,” Rick went on, “I told my dad I was going 7
to be a cop. Billy and I had it all worked out. We were going to be 8
partners. My father tried to argue with me, told me that I could 9
do better. But the fact that he was opposed to it just made me 10
more determined.”
11
Until now, he’d been staring down. Now he glanced up at Cal-12
lie. Her face was smooth as marble. He looked back at his hands.
13
“I went to college in upstate New York. Billy and I were room-14
mates. We’d already taken the test to join the NYPD. ‘Hired at 15
twenty, retired at forty,’ that was Billy’s father’s mantra. College 16
put us a little behind but only a couple years.
17
“After school, it was pretty much exactly like we’d planned.
18
We got assigned as partners, worked the midnight shift. A lot of 19
guys didn’t want midnights, but we — we both liked it. There 20
was less supervision to worry about, and you made a little more 21
money. The only thing was, Billy had gotten married, and his 22
wife didn’t like the hours. He kept promising her that he’d do 23
something, but it just never seemed to happen.
24
“From the start, I liked being a cop. No two days were the 25
same. I liked being out on the street, trying to keep people safe.
26
It probably sounds corny, but I really did feel that way. And 27
then . . .”
28
Rick’s face seemed to darken. He took a deep breath and 29
went on.
30
“There are things you learn as a cop, rules that become second 31
nature. Never hold your radio in your shooting hand. Shoot for 32
center mass. And another one that I’d never forgotten until . . .
33
until that night. In a domestic violence situation, you’ve got to 34
move them out of the kitchen.”
35 S
The most dangerous room in the house.
Callie felt suddenly cold, 36 R
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her mouth dry as paper. She wanted to say that she’d heard 1
enough, but Rick just kept talking.
2
“It was November twentieth, a Tuesday. Right before Thanks-3
giving. Carla was four or five months pregnant, and Billy was just 4
thrilled. The radio call came in around two a.m. A domestic on 5
One hundred and tenth. When we got to the apartment, it was 6
quiet. We didn’t hear a thing. This guy answers the door. White 7
guy in khakis and a T-shirt. He seems surprised to see us. ‘You 8
must have the wrong apartment,’ he says. When we ask if we can 9
come in anyway, he says, ‘Sure, no problem.’
10
“It’s one of those New York apartments that’s been cut up from 11
a much bigger space. So when you walk in, you’re standing in the 12
kitchen. But for some reason, I’m not thinking about that. Nei-13
ther of us is, I guess. Maybe because the guy seems so relaxed, we 14
think that maybe he’s telling the truth. Or maybe because, when 15
you first walk in, you normally don’t think
kitchen.
Somebody 16
must have been cooking, though. The place smelled like fried 17
onions.
18
“Billy stays with the guy — keeping an eye on him — and I 19
walk toward the back of the room. ‘Is there anyone else home?’
20
Billy asks. The guy says no. And then, from behind a closed door, 21
I hear this sort of moaning.
22
“After that . . . everything gets confused. I think I must have 23
moved forward, toward the door and the sound. But then, at al-24
most the same time, Billy’s yelling too. Things must have hap-25
pened really fast, but it felt like slow motion. I turn back around.
26
Billy’s on the ground. The guy’s lunging toward me with a carv-27
ing knife. Somehow, I manage to pull my gun. I shoot him in the 28
chest and just keep going until all the bullets are gone. Next 29
thing I remember, I’m down with Billy. Blood’s pouring out of his 30
throat. He gives this sort of pleading look, like
Don’t let this hap-31
pen.
Then his head fell back and that . . . that was it.
32
“After I called for backup, I just sat there and cried. I kept re-33
membering things from the past, things from when we were kids.
34
Like how Billy was the one who told me Santa Claus wasn’t real.
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How we got in trouble for sneaking into the movies one day 2
when we were broke. And I remembered his wedding, being best 3
man, how goofy we’d looked in those tuxes. I kept thinking about 4
Carla and the kid he’d never know.
5
“That’s where I was when backup got there, holding his head 6
in my lap. I’d totally forgotten about the sound behind the door.
7
She was dead, too, by the time they got there, stabbed more than 8
fifty times. The M.E. said she’d have died anyway, but I’ve always 9
sort of wondered. The next two months are a blur. The guilt just 10
leveled me. There were some days I couldn’t get out of bed. I 11
wished that I’d died too.”
12
Suddenly, the words stopped. Silence flooded the room. The 13
lights of a passing car flashed across Rick’s face. Rain tapped 14
against the windowpanes. It was coming down harder now.
15
“But it wasn’t your fault,” Callie said. “Both of you were there.”
16
“I was the one who survived,” he said. “It had to be my fault.”
17
“And now? Is that still what you think?”
18
He studied his hands again. She knew those hands, the long 19
fingers, the slight roughness of the palms.
20
“I don’t know,” he said. “Even if it wasn’t all my fault, I still 21
could have stopped it. That’s what Billy’s father thought. I could 22
see it in his eyes. At the funeral, he barely looked at me, didn’t 23
say a word. After the investigation, I tried going back to work.
24
But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. At night, some-25
times, I’d take out my gun and think about killing myself. Some-26
times, I’d hold it against my head and almost pull the trigger. One 27
day, this sergeant calls me over. He looks at me for a good long 28
time. ‘Rick,’ he says, ‘you gotta leave this job, or you’ll end up 29
eating your gun.’ I acted like I didn’t understand, but I knew that 30
he was right.
31
“For two years after I quit, I didn’t really do much. Went out to 32
Colorado for a while, worked at a ski resort. Sometime around 33
that first summer I realized that Carla must have had the baby. I 34
thought about calling her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
35 S
She hadn’t wanted Billy to work midnights, and I was the reason 36 R
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he stayed. If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be alive. I knew that’s what 1
she’d be thinking.
2
“After that, I moved up here. It seemed like a good idea. Keep 3
myself busy, get back to work but someplace totally different. And 4
that’s how it was, until last fall. Then I met you and Anna. Watch-5
ing Anna, I started to wonder about Carla and the baby. I made 6
some calls, found out she’d remarried, was living in Forest Hills.
7
“It took a while for me to get the nerve, but I finally picked up 8
the phone. When I said my name, she started to cry, but she was 9
glad to hear from me. The baby wasn’t a baby anymore — he was 10
six years old. He was William Jr. — they called him Will — and 11
he was smart as a tack. But after Carla remarried, he’d started 12
having problems. A year ago, she’d had a baby girl and things had 13
gotten worse. We talked for a couple of hours about, well, every-14
thing. Then, as we’re about to hang up, she asks me if I’ll come to 15
see them. She has this idea that, if I meet Will, somehow it will 16
help him.
17
“Of course, I say that I will. We go ahead and set a date. The 18
thing is, I tried to tell you, but I couldn’t talk about it. You and I 19
had been dating a couple of months. I just wasn’t ready. So I came 20
up with this story about my father. He’d been sick a couple of 21
years ago, and, well . . . you know the rest. I thought the trip 22
would be a one-time thing, but it didn’t turn out that way. Later, 23
I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know how. I knew you’d be 24
pissed that I’d lied to you. I didn’t know what to do.”
25
Finally, he looked up at her, seeking some response. Her mind 26
was filled with the sudden knowledge of how alike they were.
27
She’d blamed herself for Dahlia Schuyler’s death. He’d blamed 28
himself for Billy’s. It seemed ironic, and also sad, that they’d both 29
had to struggle alone. Both of them had had their reasons. Still, 30
it was sad.
31
Callie took a deep breath. “I have something to say as well. I 32
guess it’s a night for confessions.”
33
Could she just go ahead and tell him? It seemed far too easy.
34
But of course, that’s exactly what it was. A few simple words.
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“Like you,” she began, “I moved to Merritt to get away from 2
something. I wanted to start over, where no one knew who I was.
3
Before I got married, when I lived in Nashville, I —” She faltered 4
briefly. Actually saying the words to Rick was harder than she’d 5
expected. “I was . . . involved with Steven Gage. You know, the 6
serial killer.”
7
While she saw Rick’s eyes widen, she didn’t wait for him to 8