TPG (12 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Before Kyle was able to react, both
men’s attention were distracted by the booming interruption of a soaking wet
Eddie standing at the end of the table.

“Are you fucking
kidding me?” Eddie said, water dripping down his face, his T-shirt glued to his
body. “You pick a goddam monsoon to do this shit in?”

“Get caught in the
rain?” Kyle asked with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Eddie
said. “Just a bit, wiseass.”

Kyle stood and
shook Eddie’s wet hand and introduced him to Liam.

“Sorry about your
niece,” Eddie said as he took a seat.

“Nothing to be
sorry about,” Liam said. “After tonight she’s going to be fine.”

Eddie glanced at
Kyle, then back to Liam. “How’s that?”

Liam looked confused.
“Didn’t Kyle tell you?”

“He told me you
think Evan Hillier’s some kind of killer.”

“Right,” Liam
said. “And he attacked Allie. So once we nab him, he’ll just reverse it.”

“Reverse it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how’s he
going to do that?”

Liam adjusted his
glasses. “Not sure of the mechanics,” he said, “but he’s gotta have the ability
to heal since he’s got the ability to absorb. I mean, that’s the way it usually
works, right?”

Eddie stared at
him blankly. “I have no idea how it works. I don’t even know what the hell
you’re talking about.”

“Energy healers,”
Liam said. “They usually heal, not attack. So since Hillier has the ability to
control energy in a way that no one else can, he can obviously also heal in a
way no one else can.”

“Right,” Eddie
said. “Of course. So you think he’s going to snap your niece out of her coma by
just blinking at her like the
I Dream of
Jeannie
chick?”

Liam shrugged.
“Not sure if he blinks, but yeah. He’ll be able to reverse whatever he did, or
heal her in a way that she’ll be okay again.”

Eddie rolled his
eyes then looked around the bar. “Where’s the waitress?” he asked. “I’m
definitely gonna need a beer.”

For the rest of
their time at the bar, Eddie continued to treat Liam like he’d just escaped
from a psych ward. And it wasn’t just limited to his stance on Hillier and
energy transfers. They also sparred over the Yankees game as Liam criticized
every move they made, while Eddie pointed out that not every player could hit a
homerun every time at bat.

What wasn’t
discussed was Liam’s discovery that Kyle had deleted the texts. But Kyle
continued to wonder exactly what it was that Liam knew, and why he was acting
so nonchalant about it.

Perhaps he hadn’t
read them yet?

Kyle had no idea,
but as the game ended with a pop-up to short, he realized the night was just
getting started. Whatever Liam had discovered, he had plenty of time to share,
something Kyle was fairly certain would be happening soon enough. Whether Kyle
wanted to hear it, or not.

CHAPTER TWENTY

They settled into Eddie’s car at
about ten-thirty, and within an hour Eddie had already stepped out five times
to walk around the block and smoke a cigarette, even though he’d quit years
ago. Kyle knew it was just an excuse to not be bottled up with Liam, and he was
okay with it. He actually preferred it, not needing the added stress of
continually playing peacekeeper.

It was now ten
minutes to midnight.

Kyle looked out
the window at the lobby of the luxury high-rise as he sat in the passenger
seat, his eyes specifically drawn to the building’s underground garage.

“This is
ridiculous,” Eddie said as he watched the building’s doorman greet residents as
they arrived. “I feel like an idiot sitting out here.”

Kyle didn’t say
anything, and neither did Liam. They just kept watching and waiting.

“Absolutely
ridiculous,” Eddie muttered again.

And it
was
ridiculous. Absurd. Kyle knew it
just as much as Eddie. But in ten minutes they would know for sure what Hillier
was doing at midnight, if anything.

Kyle could feel
the tension build, the anxiety heighten as the clock ticked closer to twelve.
He looked at Eddie, and even his best friend, who rarely displayed anything
hinting at anxiety, was tense, his hands tightly gripping the wheel, eyes glued
to the luxury high-rise.

“I can’t believe I
wasted a night out doing this,” Eddie said, once again feeling the need to
break the silence, not comfortable just sitting still.

Kyle knew it was
just nervous chatter, that Eddie was just as anxious as he was.

The car’s interior
light suddenly sprung to life as Liam opened the back door.

“Where the hell
are you going?” Eddie blurted out.

“To get some
Twizzlers,” Liam said, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two of
them. “Either of you want anything?”

“
Twizzlers?
This isn’t a fucking movie.”

“I’m hungry.”

“We just had
burgers and wings not even two hours ago.”

Liam stepped out
of the car. “I have a fast metabolism.”

“Liam, it’s ten to
twelve,” Kyle chimed in. “Don’t you think it’d be better if we all stayed in
the car?”

“Eddie didn’t,”
Liam said, “and you didn’t say anything to him.”

“I didn’t get out
right before the guy we’ve been waiting for all night to fucking leave is
actually supposed to leave.”

“I’ll be back in
two minutes,” Liam shrugged. “I’m just going to the bodega down the block.”

“What if Hillier
leaves early?” Kyle asked.

Liam looked back
as he kept walking. “He won’t. He’ll leave at twelve. That’s what the doorman
said. Twelve.” He turned and kept walking.

Eddie shook his
head as he watched Liam’s frumpy body stroll up the block to the small convenience
store at the corner.

“Fast metabolism?”
Eddie smirked. “The guy’s got more rolls than a bakery.”

“Easy on the fat
jokes.”

Eddie turned to
Kyle. “You do realize the guy is a freak, right? I mean, I know you told me
about him, but actually seeing him now, meeting him, talking to him, the guy is
totally off. He’s a fucking whacko. Look at him.” Eddie turned toward the
windshield and looked at Liam as he walked to the end of the block. “He’s
wearing an Adidas tracksuit like it’s the eighties and he’s on his way to a
goddamn RUN-D.M.C. concert.”

“He wanted a
comfortable getup for the stakeout.”

Eddie turned
again. “He rattled off every Yankees statistic during the game like he was
fucking Rain Man.”

“He likes the
Yankees.”

Eddie shook his
head. “He’s a nut. And I can’t believe the both of us are here waiting for Evan
Hillier to leave at midnight, like he’s fucking Cinderella. I guarantee nothing
happens at midnight.”

Kyle didn’t say
anything.

“And think about
this,” Eddie continued. “Liam’s the only one who made the connection between
the strokes and Hillier.”

“So?”

“So maybe he’s
more involved in these deaths than we know.”

“What do you mean
more involved? You think Liam had something to do with those people dying?”

Eddie shrugged.
“Why not? He’s the only one who made this insane connection.”

“That’s
ridiculous,” Kyle said. “His own niece was one of the victims.”

“Right,” Eddie
agreed. “And she was also the only one
not
to die.”

“C’mon, though,”
Kyle said. “Why would he possibly want to kill these kids and put his own niece
in a coma?”

“I don’t know,”
Eddie said. “Why did Hannibal Lecter eat people? Cuz he was a psychopath,
that’s why. Just like rapper boy.”

Kyle remained
quiet and tossed the theory around. Could
Liam have had any involvement? And even if he did, how would he be doing
it? Was
he
the one who could control
people’s energy?

“Shit,” Eddie said
as he watched Kyle silently absorb the possibility. “You really think that nut
might actually be killing these people, don’t you?”

Kyle was about to
answer when he caught Liam’s stocky body walking back with a bag of Twizzlers,
one hanging from his mouth.

Liam opened the
door and settled into his seat, offering each of them a piece. Neither
accepted, and neither said anything as Eddie continued to peer at Liam with
narrowed eyes through the rearview mirror, making no attempt to mask his
suspicions.

Kyle couldn’t help
but join.

Even if Liam
wasn’t the one doing the actual killings, Kyle thought
,
could he know more than he was letting on?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

He slept until it was time to go,
too exhausted to deal with any daily activities. He just wanted the day to pass
so he could get on with what he had to do, get on with the fix he so
desperately needed.

He dragged himself
out of bed and slipped on his jeans and T-shirt, too tired to even consider
taking a shower. He just wanted the fix, as quickly as possible.

But it wasn’t
easy. In fact, it was getting harder and harder. He wasn’t as young as he used
to be. His body had been through years of abuse, stripped away and worn down.
And the amount of hits he now needed to keep things going was wearing him down
even more. He slid open the glass door to his balcony and looked over the
city—a city full of people who had unknowingly become both fans of his
work, and his prey. The sun had set long ago, so the sounds from below had a
muffled but energetic din. He sipped the shot of espresso he’d just made, the
jolt of caffeine helping to wake him from his haze. The downpour of a few hours
ago had washed away the day’s heat and allowed for a bit of a breeze to swirl
through the hot, sticky air. He usually enjoyed his time out on the balcony
alone with his thoughts, embracing the solitude and the bright lights littering
the lively canvas visible below. But not lately. Not when his body was stuck in
a constant loop of either craving another dose or dealing with the aches and
pains of being without one. And it kept getting worse, especially in his mind.
Things were beginning to become cloudy, hazy. He had difficulty focusing. The
rest of his nervous system was being affected as well. His hands had begun to
sporadically tremble, his eyes twitch.

But he had to
endure.

There was still a
long haul in front of him, and he didn’t want the wheels to fall off.

So he’d deal with
the pains, battle through his frayed nerves, and ward off the urges.

Then he’d worry
about all of that after the season.

And if he couldn’t
get himself right by then, so be it. It will have been worth it. Just hearing
the chants. Hearing the praise. Seeing the smiles. Reading the headlines.

Yes, he thought as
he finished his espresso, it was most definitely worth it.

He was making up
for lost time.

He walked back
inside, placed the tiny cup in the kitchen sink, and slipped the dark baseball
cap into his back pocket. He left his apartment and headed to the elevator,
ready to get another fix and happy he would finally rid himself of the minor
trembles and cloudiness. Happy he’d be able to turn his increasingly frail body
back into what he was used to, even if it would only be temporary.

As he rode the
elevator down, he wondered if he had already passed the point of no return. He
wondered if his recent binge had stripped his body and mind so raw, abused it
so much with the drastic swings, that he’d never be able to get right again. He
honestly didn’t know. He was in unchartered territory.

Corin kept telling
him to stop, and that was without any real knowledge as to how bad things were,
without knowing he might never be useful to the man again.

But he ignored Corin.
And as he exited the elevator, knowing in a few hours or so he would be
reveling in the temporary high and his body and mind would once again trick him
into believing everything was fine, he was ignoring the man again.

Then he did what
he always did
—
took
his troubling thoughts about what was happening to him and tucked them away.

It made enjoying
the performance that much better.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Eddie wouldn’t let it go.

Not that Kyle
expected him to. It wasn’t in the man’s DNA to let anything go.

“Liam,” Eddie
said, turning around from his perch in the driver’s seat. “Why is it that
you’re the only one who made the connection between these strokes and Hillier’s
starts?”

“I guess no one
else cared to look.”

“Of course someone
else looked,” Eddie sneered. “Every parent of every one of those victims
looked. Just like you looked. Their kids didn’t have any symptoms either. They
obviously searched for answers to try and figure out why their son or daughter
suddenly had a burst aneurysm for no reason at all.”

Liam scratched his
scraggly beard. “I guess they aren’t big enough Yankees fans to think of the
connection.”

“It’s got nothing
to do with that,” Eddie said. “You know that. You know no one’s even made a
connection between energy transfers and these strokes to begin with. Why not?”
Eddie’s eyes dug in. “Why were you the only one able to do it?”

Liam paused as he
stuffed another piece of licorice in his mouth. “Probably because Hillier has
the perfect cover-up,” he said with little emotion. “Did Kyle tell you about
the guy from KnightWare?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that’s the
same reason why their guy’s so valuable to them,” Liam said. “No one thinks it
was a murder because there’s no evidence left behind. The death looks like one
of natural causes. There’s no trail, no drugs, no marks, no trace of anything.”

“But you’re not
answering my question,” Eddie said. “Why you? What made you even think to go
there?”

Liam didn’t
answer, and his calm façade quickly melted. His eyes went wide, his skin turned
a shade paler and he stopped chewing the Twizzler. Kyle and Eddie turned and
followed where Liam’s eyes were focusing, out the windshield, at the garage
door, which was now fully opened.

A black Pathfinder
was leaving.

Evan Hillier’s
Pathfinder.

Eddie quickly pulled out and
followed Hillier’s car as it made a left onto Park, then another onto
Seventy-second Street heading east.

“You’re too
close,” Liam said, his head sandwiched between the two front bucket seats, his
eyes fixed on the Pathfinder’s taillights. “You should have a car or two
between us, not be directly behind him. He’ll see you.”

“I
am
a few car lengths behind,” Eddie
said. “I can’t help it if no one’s between us.”

“You should turn
off your lights.”

Eddie glanced back
at him. “Turn off my lights? Are you serious? You really think that a car with
no lights will be less noticeable? We’re not in the goddam bush, we’re in New
York City.”

“I think he just
looked at his rearview mirror,” Liam said, ignoring Eddie’s comments, still
focused on Hillier. “I think he spotted us.”

“Would you calm
the fuck down?” Eddie yelled.

They watched as
the Pathfinder switched over to the right lane.

“Don’t switch yet,
he’ll—”

Eddie lurched back
again. “I swear to God, I’ll pull this fucking car over right now if you don’t
shut the fuck up. Jesus,” he shook his head, “you’re worse than my damn kids.”

“Easy. Just
relax.” Kyle shot a glance at Eddie and then turned to Liam as the car moved
over to the right lane. “Let Eddie do the driving, okay? If he spots us, he
spots us. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have no idea what he’s
doing.”

Liam nodded and
Kyle turned back to see Hillier heading onto the southbound ramp for the FDR.
Eddie followed a few cars behind, the Pathfinder staying in the left lane all
the way down to the tip of Manhattan, taking the last exit and looping around
toward Water Street. Once on Water Street, the Pathfinder pulled into a parking
spot outside a McDonald’s.

Even though he’d
prepared for it, Kyle was still stunned that Liam had been right. But how right
was he?

Where was Hillier
heading, and what on earth was he going to do when he got there?