“On my way to the nearest precinct. A couple of NYPD uniforms picked me up.” He spoke in a tight, strained voice. “Blake’s men caught me. They were gonna kill me. Mannie put a plastic bag over my head and cinched it tight. I thought I was a dead man. I swear to God, I thought my time had come. But then, a couple of seconds later—the longest couple seconds of my life—he ripped it open. Then he left me there in that chair. That’s all I know. I waited, it was a little while, but then the officers showed up. I don’t know how they found out where I was.”

Mannie was going to kill him? That didn’t seem right at all. From my experience with Mannie, when he had the chance to save lives, he did. As far as I knew, we had no evidence that he’d ever taken anyone’s life.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” I told Greer.

“That makes two of us.”

I saw an incoming call from Ralph and I told Greer I’d call him back.

Ralph explained that he’d spoken with both DeYoung and Angela. He knew about Sasha, but that wasn’t why he’d called.

“Don’t you find it a little convenient?” he said.

“Find what convenient?”

“The anonymous tip about Greer’s location. The fact that he wasn’t killed. And then he walks away from all this without a scratch?”

“What—you think he’s involved somehow?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I think we need to make sure he wasn’t.”

I couldn’t believe that Greer had anything to do with this or that his abduction had been faked.

“Think about it,” Ralph said. “He plays the part of the victim so they can get Sasha to kill herself.”

“That seems like a stretch to me. Let’s see where the evidence takes us.”

“Yeah,” he replied soberly. “Let’s do that.”

++++

Back at his house, Timothy Sabian stood in front of the upstairs bathroom mirror.

Things were starting to pull apart at the seams. Miranda’s mom was convinced he was the one responsible for her daughter’s disappearance—for her death.

His life was a piece of cloth that was unraveling right before his eyes.

He flung his head forward and smashed it violently against the glass, shattering the mirror.

This has to end. This has to stop!

The only way for that to happen is getting rid of Julianne.

Or getting rid of yourself.

He stared at his splintered reflection, at the unyielding cracks slicing up and through and across his face.

That’s an option. That’s always an option, Timothy. Don’t forget. You can take care of what needs to be done here at any time.