Harlan Coben - Play Dead

In the passenger seat, Laura sat with the diary laid open on her lap. She read and read but still one thought kept going through her head, one thought that pushed away the mounting horror of the past.

David. David was still alive.

She looked over at Gloria. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Dad murdered Stan,’ she answered. ‘He killed the man I loved.’

‘I know,’ Laura said softly.

‘How? How could he do that?’

Laura’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘You read the diary. He’s a sick man. He’s out of control.’

‘Did you get through the month of June yet?’ Gloria asked.

‘Just about.’

‘Then you see the full scope of what he did. Dad kept drugging Mom so she wouldn’t figure out what he had done. Then he kept sleeping with her until she was pregnant again – except now the baby was his, not Sinclair’s.’

‘And Judy said nothing,’ Laura added. ‘She was terrified of what would happen if the truth came out.’

The car turned right. They were not very far away now. ‘They lived with that secret for all those years. They just pretended nothing had ever happened.’

‘I don’t think it was all that simple,’ Laura said. ‘I doubt a day went by that they didn’t think of what happened in May of 1960.’

Gloria’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. ‘I just can’t believe it. I mean, what could have twisted Dad’s mind like that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Laura said. ‘His blind obsession with Mom maybe, with the whole idea of family.’

‘How can he act like he loves us so much and still be a killer?’

‘It’s no act,’ Laura replied. ‘At least I don’t think it is. He loves us – maybe too strongly. He has always been the one to take on responsibility without help, protecting his girls from harm. Whenever there was a problem, Mom never raised a hand to help him. She just sat back and relied on Dad. Somewhere in his mind, he believes he has done all of this to protect his family.’

‘All this time… and we never knew.’

Laura nodded. She tried to look down and continue reading the diary, hoping to block her thoughts from what was about to occur. But it was senseless. Anticipation rubbed against her raw nerves. David. After all this time, David was still alive. She was going to see him soon, hold him, tell him that they were never meant to be apart.

Just a few more minutes.

James crept down the darkened hallway. He moved past a media room, past an empty water cooler, past the visiting team’s locker room. On his left, he saw a large garbage canister stuffed full with paper cups and programs. He checked the other end of the corridor. Nobody in sight.

Everything had been going so well until Mary realized that David Baskin was Sinclair’s son. Then she panicked. She flailed around until she awoke the sleeping past. The mask that hid all of his deceptions – his useful deceptions – began to crack and fall away. He tried to keep Mary still, but how could he protect Laura and David’s relationship without telling his wife what she had made him do all those years ago? The whole foundation that supported his family would crumble into worthless ruins. Families, like lives, are fragile things. They are held together with flimsy tissue. Stretch that tissue too far…

He moved forward. Up ahead, he could see the entrance ramp. The players jogged down this very hall and out that ramp to the sound of swelling applause or boos. Light cascaded in from the playing area. The sound of dribbling became louder.

James had been in this building just a few days ago for the opening game of the Celtics’ new season. He had come with high hopes, with the genuine belief that the worst was behind them. But he was so wrong. That visit to the Garden, that damn opening game, had unraveled the spool of lies like no other occasion ever had. Judy had been only one loose thread that needed immediate attention.

The other had been Stan Baskin.

Stan had recognized James at the basketball game. He knew that James had killed his father. But instead of seeking vengeance, Stan Baskin had decided to turn a profit by playing a little game of blackmail. Disgusting. What kind of sense of family did a man like that have? James quickly realized that a pay-off would do no good. Any man who could be bought off by his father’s murderer could not be trusted to remain silent. Furthermore, this scum was seriously involved with his oldest daughter. James would not allow Gloria to fall in love with such a man. So once again, what choice did James have? Only one, really.

He silenced Stan for good.

The entrance way was only a few yards away. The time had come. No more mere clipping away at the weeds to improve the appearance. He needed to dig deep and rip up the evil by the roots, to destroy it in one bold stroke. Then they would all be safe.

Drastic situations called for drastic measures. And in this case, that meant murder. He would not shy away from the unpleasantness of what must be done. Personal feeling had to be put aside.

One last murder.

He pressed his back up against the wall. He leaned forward and peered out. David was performing dribbling drills near center court. He was stationary, the ball moving in a figure eight between his legs.

‘It’s good for the hand-eye coordination, Dr Ayars.’

‘Please. Call me James.’

He closed his eyes and pushed the memory away. Then he dared another peek. David’s back was to him. Silently, James moved out from the entrance way and ducked behind a row of courtside seats. David had not heard a thing. He just continued dribbling in figure eights, now using two balls, each traveling in a different direction. James slowly raised his head and glanced out like a soldier in a foxhole. David stared straight toward the basket at the opposite end of the court. He did not watch the basketballs as they moved in a blur beneath him. The orange spheres were like well-trained animals who obeyed his every command.

‘How do you do that, David? How can you dribble so fast without looking down?’

‘I practice.’

‘You never watch the ball when you’re dribbling?’

‘Never. There are too many other things to watch.’

James was close enough now, only ten yards away. He would not miss from here. He reached into his pocket and gently slid the gun into his hand. Once again, the weapon felt so right.

The time had come. Tears welled in his eyes. Not now. He had to save his daughter, his family. He had to end this thing once and for all.

He took aim.

Gloria pulled the car into the abandoned North Station Garden parking lot. They circled around to Area B where the side entrance was. When they reached that lot, Laura nearly screamed. Her chest tightened to the point where she could barely breathe.

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘NO!’

Laura jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop. She sprinted toward the side door, passing the one car in the lot, a familiar car.

Her father’s car.

James’s hand shook, but it no longer mattered. The target was within range. All he had to do was pull the trigger. It would all be over. Once again, peace would descend over his family. The past would be foiled before it could destroy any more lives. It would rise no more.

His thumb pulled back the hammer.

That was when he heard the door swing open.

The heavy metal door banged hard against the wall, the sound echoing all the way down the hall and into the arena. David turned around quickly. He froze when he saw James.

‘Daddy!’ a voice screamed from the distance. It was Laura’s voice. He could hear her footsteps as she ran toward them both.

Time was running out. There was no time to dawdle. He had a job to do, and whether his daughter was here or not, he would do it. This was, after all, for her benefit. Once again, he aimed the gun.