Liar Liar - James Patterson Page 0,81
rope hanging over the side of the well.
“Heather, you might have to try to climb up. I can’t use my arm. Honey? Honey, are you okay?”
Regan set the blade to the rope and started sawing.
“What’s that sound?” Heather’s voice was thin and high. “Ron? What’s that sound?”
Chapter 102
REGAN SAT WHERE he had been sitting when I arrived, like a man lounging with a beer in his hand rather than a gun. He was watching me as his tale unfolded, those empty eyes examining my reaction.
“I went back a lot,” Regan said. “I kept checking on them, seeing what they were up to. They had all these plans to get out, to scream, to signal for help. They would try to talk me into helping them. Promise me the whole world. And then they’d be screaming up at me viciously, promising punishments. I’d never experienced such awesome power before.”
He looked at his hands spread open before him, as though he were holding the power itself.
“The sound of the begging and pleading and bargaining. It was addictive.”
I said nothing. There were no words. I braced my body against the beam and listened.
“It couldn’t last forever, of course. I got bored of the games and left them for a day. When I went back, they were begging for water. My father went first,” Regan said. “A combination of things, probably. Septic shock from the broken arm. Dehydration. Exhaustion. It was an unusually hot summer. On the third morning, I went to check on them and he was dead. She tried to climb out a few times, I think, but every time she fell back in, it took a lot of the strength out of her. It was the seventh or maybe the eighth day, I went back and she was lying there making strange noises. So I got a few big rocks from the forest and came back and just kept dropping them in until I got her.”
I breathed evenly, trying to control the sickness that had been rising in me while he told his story.
“People started calling the house,” Regan said. “I didn’t answer. The day before the owners were due to come back, I found a packet of matches and lit a curtain on fire. Bored again, I guess.” He smirked. “That brought an end to it all.”
“You’re evil,” I said. “Your file wasn’t sealed because of what your parents did to you. It was because of what you did to them. You’re just…You’re just…”
Regan looked at me. “I’m bad,” he said. He put his gun on the pallet beside him and came toward me. “I was born bad. My parents were great people. They never did anything to me to make me behave the way I did. It was just in my nature.”
I shook my head.
“She kept asking me while she was in the hole,” Regan said. “She kept saying, ‘Don’t you love me?’ and I kept saying no. I was just telling the truth. That’s what this is all about, Harry. Bringing you here, showing you who I really am. Throughout my life, I’ve been taught to try to hide that badness. Layer upon layer, covering myself up. They tried to help me in the system. Cover up the badness with friends, with activities, with pretend families.”
He tried to touch the side of my face, but I twisted away from him. The movement sent a spark of rage through his features, just a flash that was gone before I could really be sure it was there. His big hand took my jaw again and pinned my head against the beam.
“I’ve stripped layer upon layer away from you,” he said. “Just like I was doing with Sam. I took away your silly ideas about being a good cop, a good kid, a good friend. I’m showing you the truth here. Giving you a gift. You probably think there’s going to be a good little Harry inside there, when I finally get done with you.”
He took hold of the zipper tab on the front of my jacket and started pulling it down.
“But you’re bad, Harry,” he said. “You’re just like me.”
“What are you doing?” I flattened against the beam, tried to twist away from his hands.
“What’s the last thing I could take away from you, Harry?”
He ripped the zipper down.
Chapter 103
I STOOD SHIVERING as Regan took a knife from the back pocket of his jeans, shoved my jacket open and cut my shirt right up the middle, stripping the cloth off