I picked up my cell phone. It was on silent, but the screen lit up with notification after notification.
“Sarah, for the love of God, where are you, babe? I am desperate. Please answer me. The police said they did not find your body. Where are you? Are you hurt? Sarah, answer me.”
And the most recent one, sent five minutes ago:
“I know you are alive and I know you took the things from the safe. We need to talk. Urgent.”
The mask had fallen.
“He knows,” I said.
“Perfect. Answer him.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Answer him. Tell him you want to meet him in a public place tomorrow morning.”
“Why?”
Catherine smiled. That smile I learned to fear and admire at the same time.
“Because we will give him a chance to hang himself.”
I wrote the reply with trembling fingers.
“Millennium Park. Tomorrow, 10:00 in the morning. Come alone.”
James’s reply arrived in seconds.
“I will be there, Sarah. We need to talk. Things are not what you think.”
Things are not what I think. As if I were the crazy one in the story. As if I had not seen two men burning my house with my own keys.
“Perfect,” said Catherine. “Tomorrow morning you will meet him. But you will not be alone.”
She explained the plan. It was risky, maybe insane, but it could work. The detective she knew, Detective Miller, agreed to help when she called and explained the situation. He would put people in plain clothes in the park, wires, cameras. All we needed was to make James confess.
“He is never going to confess knowing he can be recorded,” I argued.
“He does not need to confess with words,” she replied. “He just needs to act. And desperate men always act.”
That night I could not sleep. I kept imagining the meeting. What I would say. How I would look into the eyes of the man who tried to kill me and pretend normality. Leo slept beside me, finally at peace after days of terror. At least one of us could rest.
At 9:30 the next morning, we were positioned. Me, sitting on a bench in Millennium Park with a coat with a built-in microphone. Leo, safe in the office with Catherine, watching everything through cameras the police installed. Detective Miller and his team scattered around the park, disguised as homeless people, street vendors, people walking their dogs.
And then I saw James.
He appeared promptly at 10:00 in the morning. He wore wrinkled clothes, probably the same from yesterday. Deep dark circles, unshaven beard. For the first time since I met him, he seemed human, vulnerable. But I knew the truth.
He saw me and practically ran.
“Sarah, thank God. Are you okay?”
He tried to hug me. I stepped back.
“Do not touch me.”
The mask slipped for a second. I saw rage in his eyes before they returned to express concern.
“Babe, I know you are scared, but you have to listen to me.”
“Listen to you? Listen to you say what, James? That it was all a mistake? That the men who burned our house with our keys were just thieves?”
He blinked, calculating.
“You… you saw?”
“I saw everything. I was there. Leo and I… we saw everything.”
He went pale. He looked around, nervous.
“Not here. Let’s go somewhere private.”
“I am not going anywhere with you.”
I kept my voice firm, although my heart was racing.
“Speak here. Now. Why did you try to kill me?”
“I did not. It was not like that.”
He ran his hand through his hair.
“Sarah, you do not understand. I am in trouble. I owe a lot of money to very dangerous people. They threatened you. They threatened Leo.”
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