Heading to the toilet, I throw up, feeling sick to the stomach. Rinsing my mouth, I look at myself in the mirror, the harsh fluorescent light accentuating my pallor.
This was Lucas. It had to be Lucas. He was the only one who knew what happened to TeeTee. I can’t see my mother sending me those letters.
That bastard.
What kind of sick games is he playing?
I push aside the grief, letting the anger take hold of me. Splashing cold water over my face, I open the bathroom door, only to see Ethan standing outside. He’s wearing a grim expression on his face. “Are you all right?”
I nod my head. “Sorry about that. I needed a minute. That rattled me.”
“It would have rattled anybody, Natalie. The nature of the messages alone—I need to call the police. These are not threats I want to take lightly. You say Lucas killed your bird. The messages that?—”
“He was psychotic, Ethan,” I say quietly. “That’s all I want to say on the matter. I don’t want to remember.”
He nods sharply. “Alright. Was Lucas the only one who knew how your parrot died?”
“He and my mother. No one else. I shut down for a long time after that.”
“Then it’s safe to assume that these messages are from Lucas.” He guides me to the living area and settles me down on the couch. “When your brother was arrested, they must’ve fingerprinted him at the station. These messages might contain fingerprints. If the police can link those prints to Lucas, he will be arrested.”
I meet his gaze, and after a moment of silence, I ask, “Are you asking me whether I’m okay with it?”
He raises his brows.
“Do it,” I say tightly. “I’m done. He’s no longer just threatening me. I’m not going to play around with my baby’s life.”
“I’m going to make some calls, then.” He runs his fingers through my hair and lightly tugs my head back so that I’m looking up at him.
“I’m right here,” he says quietly, his eyes dark but his tone calm and steady. “He won’t be able to so much as touch a hair on your head.”
I just squeeze his hand. “Go. I’ll make us some coffee and call the front desk. I want to know how he entered the building. After that night, when you dropped me home and the night doorman wasn’t there, I filed a complaint. Nobody should have been able to get in.”
As Ethan leaves the room, I pick up the landline that is connected to the front desk and the other major sections of the apartment building. The morning guard is on duty, and he picks up the phone.
“Hank, there were some letters in my mailbox. They were unstamped. Has anybody strange been coming to the building?”
“They just had your name on it, didn’t they, Miss Thorne?” Hank asks.
“Yes. Do you know who?—”
“I don’t know who brought them, but I found them sitting on my chair outside the front door. They were addressed to you, so I just put them in your mailbox.”
I wet my lips, feeling a sense of relief. “So, they were outside the building, then?”
“Yep. Did I do something wrong? I thought it was just pamphlets. I know you and Miss Brown like to order from the restaurants sometimes.”
He doesn’t seem to realize no restaurant pamphlet would have carried my name.
“Is there any camera pointing in the direction of your chair?”
He laughs. “There used to be. Stopped working. Building maintenance said they’d look into it, but they haven’t gotten around to it. What’s going on, Miss Thorne?”
“Nothing. Do you know when the first letter arrived?”
“Sure, I guess.” I hear him scratch his head. “I think a few days after you came back from your trip? I can’t be completely certain. Honestly, I just saw them and put them in your mailbox. I thought I was helping.”
I press my lips together. “It’s okay, Hank. Thanks for letting me know. If you recall anybody who might have been loitering around at that time, give me a call, will you?”
