I told them where we were and what the situation was. I mentioned Jennifer’s name, and they promised to send help immediately. When I was off the phone, I went back over to where Blake stood over Aaron.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

Blake looked at me. “Why do you care?”

“Because he’s a human being.” I looked down. Aaron’s chest rose and fell steadily. His eyes were half open and glassy. I hoped for the best. He’d been battered, but I thought he would make it without any real damage. “Haven’t we done enough to him? Or should I say, haven’t you done enough to him? Six years ago and today.”

“Whatever.” Blake made a dismissive wave with his hand. “He tried to kill us. He tried to hurt your wife. That should be enough. You should want to pound him. Instead you hit me.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I did to you. After you gaslit me for six years.”

Blake again waved, this time with both hands. “We don’t have time for that,” he said. “We need to get our stories straight before the cops get here. I know they’re on their way.”

He seemed to be speaking a foreign language. “Get our stories straight? What is there to get straight? I’m telling them the truth. I’m telling them exactly what happened here.”

“Right.” He nodded with enthusiasm, as though we’d finally agreed to resolve a long-simmering dispute. “We had a beef from college, and he tried to kill us. And he killed Jen to get back at both of us. Right?”

“Right. Sure.”

He nodded his head, a look of satisfaction on his face. But I sensed we weren’t completely on the same page.

“I’m telling them everything, Blake. Everything. About Jennifer’s house and the phone and all of it. I’m coming clean.”

He cocked his head, and his mouth fell open. Then he threw his hands up in the air in disgust. “What are you talking about? You can’t tell them that.”

“I can, and I will. This is over, Blake. And the only way for it to truly be over is to tell the cops everything. They need that information from Jennifer’s phone. They need to know all of it.” I looked around the basement. “Where’s my computer?”

He took a long time to answer a simple question. “I have it.”

“Where?”

“It’s safe.”

“What did you need off of there?” I asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said. He took a step forward until we were uncomfortably close. Before he spoke, we both heard it. Sirens. The police were in the neighborhood and coming down the street, heading for this unit. They knew we were in the basement. “You need to think about this. Fast.”

“What?”