The Second Stranger by J. P. Tompkins

Author:J. P. Tompkins [Tompkins, J. P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

“So who was he?”

That’s what Paul says when I answer with the speakerphone. I’ve been awake for roughly a minute, my head humming with the sleeping pill hangover, the world not quite making sense yet. The kind of awake that doesn’t really count.

“Who was who?” I ask, propping myself up on an elbow, turning to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I feel a hundred years old. This is the worst I’ve felt from taking that fucking medicine. If I’m going to feel like this in the morning, I might as well start drinking myself to sleep.

“They called with the DNA test results. I’m not the father.”

The last couple of times I’ve had a bad morning, it took a while for me to recover. More than a few minutes. One time I just let it run its course, waited for it to wear off. Another time, it was a hot shower and a strong cup of coffee that revived me.

Now, hearing Paul’s words, not having to ask him to repeat it because there’s no mistaking what he said, I’m instantly more alert than I was just seconds ago.

“Who was he, Kate?”

“I have no idea.”

“Bullshit. She was living with you and you had no idea there was another guy?”

Another guy. Like Paul was the guy in Erin’s life and anyone else was another.

“I never saw her with a guy. She never mentioned anything about a guy.”

I swipe the screen and am reminded of the missed calls from Neil. I’ll call him after I get rid of Paul.

“Well, obviously there was another guy,” Paul says. “And the police don’t know who he was?”

“Not that I’ve heard.” And not that it would matter, I think but don’t say, as I stand for the first time today, making my way to the bathroom. So Erin had something going on. It doesn’t matter. It’s not relevant to the case.

“Do you?” he asks.

“Do I what? Do I know who he is? You already asked me that and I’ve already answered.”

He sighs heavily, not saying anything for a few long seconds.

I flip on the light in the bathroom and reach for the mouthwash, wanting to flush out this dry-mouth bad breath. I open the bottle, consider pouring some into the cap, but then decide to just take a swig. Before I do, though, I tell Paul I have to get going and get ready for the day.

“They find this guy…” he says, and pauses, letting the words hang there for a moment before he finishes the thought: “That’s who killed her.”

I say nothing, not caring that he’s wrong, that he’s falling into the same trap as the cops, thinking this was something personal with Erin. I look at the mouthwash bottle.

“But you know what?” he says. “I don’t even give a shit now that I know she was fucking someone else.” He hangs up and I tip the mouthwash bottle to my mouth.

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