Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(84)

It’s when kids get involved—that’s when it’s hard.

It was true fourteen years ago, and it’s true now.

Hard, but not impossible. There’s no question that the little girl knows what happened to that pink stuffed dog. The lie was blatant in those big green eyes of hers. But for whatever reason, she’s not talking.

Not to me, anyway.

Not yet.

Could it be that Sadie Walsh found the memory stick hidden inside the toy? If she did, it’s only a matter of time before she turns it over to her mother. Maybe she already has.

If that’s the case, then Garvey’s a sitting duck. And he’s not the only one.

There was a time when self-sacrifice would have been an automatic, even willing, move to make.

But Garvey was a different man back then. A man worth dying for.

Or was he?

Is anyone?

What makes one human life more valuable than another?

Mine… Caroline’s… Jeremy’s…

Garvey’s…

Maybe I was such an idealist that I didn’t want to see him for who—for what—he really was all along…

A cold-blooded murderer.

And now…he’s not the only one with blood on his hands.

You do what has to be done, and then you wash your hands and you move on.

Or so Garvey likes to say.

But there is no moving on just yet. The worst is yet to come. The plan is in motion. By this time tomorrow, it will be over, one way or another.

You don’t even have kids, Garvey said—as though it’s any easier for a childless person to obliterate the life of a child.

Or children.

A mother, for that matter, or a father.

All for the sake of…what? Ambition? Justice?

Garvey Quinn was wronged—no doubt about that. Byron Gregson got what he had coming.

This is different.

The Walsh family didn’t blackmail Garvey. Do they really deserve to die?

Did Jeremy Cavalon?

To Garvey, they’re all disposable players in a game he’s been waiting all his life to win.

What makes you think you’ll be spared if he ever finds out you defied his orders to do whatever has to be done?

Only a fool with a death wish would take that risk.

It’ll all be worth it when this is over and Garvey is sitting in the governor’s mansion.

When that day comes, I’ll put all of this behind me; make a fresh start somewhere…

If I survive.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN




Ryan opens his eyes to a dreary morning, rain pattering on the gabled roof above his bed.

The clock on his nightstand tells him it’s past ten, but he might as well roll over and go back to sleep.

No pool today. Nothing else to do. Most of his friends are busy, other than Ian, who texted last night and invited Ryan to come over and play a new Xbox game. Ryan lied that he had other plans.

Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he should go after all.

But then he’ll have to deal with nosy Mrs. Wasserman again, and he’s afraid he might snap and tell her to mind her own business. She probably deserves it, but he has a feeling Mom won’t see it that way. She told Ryan he has to be polite, no matter what.

He stares at the sloping ceiling, lined with taped-up magazine posters of his favorite baseball players. He hasn’t even been to a game at Yankee Stadium this season. Dad takes him every year; he gets great box seats from someone at work. Ryan asked him about it a few months ago, and he said he’d look into it.

Now the summer’s almost over.

Actually, Ryan’s kind of glad about that.

Other years, he couldn’t get enough of summer, on nice days and rainy ones, too—the weather didn’t matter. There always seemed to be something to do. Even lying around with nothing to do held a certain appeal.

Back then, he never worried that too much thinking might make him feel depressed. Not like now.

Ryan rolls over and punches his pillow beneath his cheek.

It’s not just the Yankee game. He really thought his father was going to be able to squeeze in their annual fishing trip. That was the one thing Ryan was worried about missing when his parents told him he was going to sleepaway camp.

“Don’t worry, Ry,” Dad told him. “There will be plenty of fishing up at camp.”

“But I like to go with you.”

“We will, when you get back in August. That’s when the fish do all their biting.”

Yeah, right.

Whatever.

He’ll be glad to get back to school, and sports, and having something to do every second so that he doesn’t have to dwell on how his great old life somehow turned into this totally miserable new one.

Ryan rolls over again, trying to get comfortable. It isn’t working.

Might as well get up.

He slips out of bed and heads out into the hall. Lucy’s door is closed. Mom’s is open, bed made, shades up. Sadie’s door is also open, but surrounded by the “Keep Out” signs she and Mom made last night.

Seeing them, Ryan shakes his head. His little sister is acting pretty kooky lately. Mom told him and Lucy just to go along with Sadie’s crazy story about someone prowling around her room. As if anyone would actually be interested in stealing a four-year-old’s stuff.