The Perfect Son by Freida McFadden(33)

“Yes…” I chew on my lip. “It’s kind of a big coincidence though, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he just happened to be around this girl’s house on the night she disappeared? Do you really believe that?”

He frowns. “What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

He raises his eyebrows. “What? You’re saying you think our son murdered this girl? Really, Erika?”

“Maybe not murdered…”

I wish I had a wife, so I could keep her deep in a hole. I can still hear Miss Williams’s words in my ear. Liam said a lot of disturbing things, but that one was way up there. That was one of the ones I won’t forget. Or his answer when I asked about him about it later that night:

I’d just like to see what would happen to her, Mommy. If I put her in a hole and didn’t feed her, what would happen? And if she were my wife, I could do what I wanted and no one would even look for her.

That was the day I made our first appointment with Dr. Hebert.

“You know the kind of comments Liam has made in the past,” I remind Jason.

He shakes his head. “You’ve always made too much of that. He’s precocious. It’s just words.”

“It’s not just words.”

Jason blinks at me. “I can’t… I can’t have this conversation with you, Erika. This is our child we’re talking about. He didn’t do it. And I’m not going to let them pin it on him.”

“Fine,” I say. “Get him a lawyer.”

Jason spends the rest of the night looking up criminal attorneys. He’s convinced that a good lawyer can make this problem go away. But I know he’s wrong. The only one who can make this go away is Liam.





Chapter 28


Olivia



I don’t know how long I stay crouched in a little ball on the ground, sobbing my eyes out.

When I’m done, my eyes are raw and my face feels puffy. There’s dried snot on my cheeks and hands. But that’s the least of my problems.

I can’t sit here feeling sorry for myself. If I don’t want to die here, I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to figure out a way to escape. Or at least, figure out a way to survive until I’m rescued.

I’ve got to be smart. It’s the only way.

I feel along the ground, hoping to locate something that might give me a clue as to where I am or how to get free. I have to crawl, because my ankle hurts far too much to put any weight on it. It’s definitely got to be broken. Even when I’m not putting weight on it, it’s throbbing like crazy.

I discover another wall across from me. I would guess this hole is about four feet by four feet. Maybe six or seven feet deep. Not very big. I wonder if he dug it himself. It would’ve taken him a long time if he did. I remember reading that book Holes when I was in ninth grade. It was about some kid who had to dig holes as part of a punishment. It was pretty good, as I remember. I think they made it into a movie.

In the third corner I check, my heart leaps when my fingers close around a tiny thermos. I pick it up, and it makes a noise when I shake it. There’s liquid inside! I fumble with the cover, desperately trying to open it, even though I can’t see a thing. If I spill this thermos, I’m toast. It’s not much water, but I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. Even more than I wanted Liam to kiss me when we were at the diner.

I hear a pop, and my fingers make contact with a straw sticking out of the container. I put my lips on the straw and take a sip. Oh my God, it’s heavenly. Even though it has a slight metallic aftertaste, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. The water is cold in my mouth and my parched throat and my empty stomach. I want to guzzle the whole thing, but at the same time, I’m not sure when I’ll get more. I should save it. Ration it. That’s what a survivor would do.

I reluctantly close the top and gingerly put it back in the corner, now half empty. I’m not going to drink more until I feel really desperate. I need to know what the situation is. Will he come back? Will he give me more water? Food?

With the water tucked away, I explore the final corner of the hole. This corner isn’t empty either. I feel something there, something long and smooth. My fingers close around it. I squint as hard as I can, desperate to see something. Anything. But it’s too dark.

I keep feeling around, and I realize there are more objects in this corner. They have a similar feel and consistency. Sharp or round edges. Mostly long and thin.

Then I come across something that feels a little different. It’s round, roughly the size of a melon. But it’s not a sphere. As my fingers round the curve, I feel two large holes. My chest tightens as I realize what I’m touching.

It’s a skull.

I can’t stop screaming, even though nobody can hear me.





Chapter 29


Transcript of police interview with Dr. Alice Hebert:

“Thank you so much for speaking with us today, Dr. Hebert.”

“I thought it was my obligation to do so.”

“Can you state for the record your profession?”

“I am a child psychologist. I’ve been in private practice for the past twenty-three years.”