Broken (44 page)

Arena nodded. “Yeah. It’s amazing that you got out of that house with your sanity and went on to make such a successful career for yourself. People a lot stronger than you have crumbled over a lot less.”

Berg smiled. “We all know there were extenuating circumstances here. The abuse you suffered? It was terrible and I know the ASA will take it into account.” Berg said to Arena, as if they were sharing a confidence, “Let’s face it, no jury’s going to convict a celebrity who suffered a kind of extenuating circumstance like abuse.” Berg turned back to Elizabeth. “Hell, your sister deserved it. Anyone can see that!”

Elizabeth smiled slightly, as if she was terribly amused by the entire speech. “I loved my sister very much, and as I have very patiently explained
numerous times
, there was no favoritism toward Emma. Mommy and Daddy loved her, but if anything, they felt sorry for her, too. I was their favorite, and how could I not be? I am smarter, funnier, and more loyal.
I’m
the celebrity. Emma was a secretary! She wasn’t even smart enough to avoid getting pregnant with her married boss. All Emma had was looks, and as you can plainly see,” she said, winking at Arena, “she does not have exclusive rights to those anymore either. Mommy and Daddy—”

“Oh, spare me the
mommy and daddy
shit,” Berg snapped. “You were, and are, so reviled in your own house your own mother was the one who gave us the statement against you!” Berg waved the statement in front of Elizabeth’s face and waited.

Now or never
.

Elizabeth looked at the proffered statement and smiled sadly without touching it. “Oh, detectives, you obviously haven’t heard. I hope you weren’t basing this entire interview on that—”

ASA Carla Maroney barged into the room.

Berg whirled around. “Hey! We’re busy in here. Get out!”

Everyone knew that you didn’t interrupt an interrogation, not even if the building was on fire.

“Oh, good,
you’re
back.” Carla crossed her arms over her chest and raked her eyes over Berg as though she was a piece of dog crap on her Jimmy Choo. “Can we speak—outside—for a moment?” she asked both Berg and Arena.

Momentum lost, Berg and Arena stepped outside and tried to close the door.

“What the fuck?” Berg exploded at the blonde. “We nearly had her!”

“You have less than nothing!” Carla yelled back. “I’ve been watching your entire farce of an interview with Jay next door. I’ve seen actual expeditions involving
real
fish
with more finesse! Shut it down. Her mother’s statement is no longer admissible.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Alex Young had her committed to a psychiatric facility this morning! He’s had her declared mentally incompetent, which makes her statement less valuable to us than the scrap paper it’s printed on. Cut Elizabeth loose. Now!” Carla stalked off, her head held high.

Leading the way, Berg and Arena strode back into the interview room and slammed the door behind them.

Elizabeth smirked. “Guess you heard the sad news, then?” she asked. “My poor mother. This has been coming for years, you know. Gosh, the stories she used to come up with about me! But no matter. Daddy and Emma will be coming to live with me. It will be so lovely to have that baby safely under
my
roof.”

Berg could not believe the bitch. A murderous calm washed over her and she sat down slowly in her chair and crossed her legs. “You know, it’s funny. You sit there with your expensive clothes and your media profile and your little cable TV show, and you think you’re special. You think you’re worth something. But you’re not. I’ve met gangbangers with more human value than you. When I think about you, I don’t feel angry. I just feel sad for you.”

Elizabeth shrugged.

“You think you’re some kind of criminal mastermind? You’re not even interesting. To me or to anyone. You know what I do when I have trouble sleeping? I think about you, and I’m out in fifteen seconds. I think about the pathetic little girl who didn’t get enough attention from
Daddy
. You’re just sad. You wouldn’t know an actual problem if it bit you on your sizable ass.”

“Hey, Berg,” Arena said, nervously clearing his throat and touching her lightly on the shoulder. “I think we’d better shut—”

Berg ignored him and plowed on. “You think you’re clever? You think you’re unique? You’re not even unusual. I see ten people in this room daily with more intellect and more criminal intelligence than you’ll ever have. You sit there with your fake teeth and your fake tan and your liposucked body and your fake hair, and you think you’ve won. But the most hilarious thing is, you’re still coming second to everyone who counts!” Berg laughed. “You could cure AIDS and your parents would still love that bastard baby more than you. You thought you’d win by killing Emma, didn’t you? But she’s dead and she still won! And now, no matter what you do, you’ll never live up to the image your parents have of her in their heads, and you’ll never mean more to them than that baby does.” Berg gave the woman a knowing smile.

Elizabeth glowered.

“And yet you sit there like you’re important—special even. In the game of life, you’re the biggest loser I know. What you are is a silly little girl who didn’t get what she wanted so she threw a tantrum. You’re a toddler who’ll always come third in the eyes of anyone who matters to you.”

“Berg, seriously.” Arena grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. “Enough!”

“You poor little
fat
girl
.” Berg snorted. “Mommy and Daddy gave all their money and time to your prettier, younger sister? They didn’t love you enough? Happens every day. And you know what other people do? They suck it up and get on with life.

“My old boss? Now there was a woman with real problems and a true criminal to admire. I’m sure you heard about it. Did she go crying to Mommy and Daddy? Did she get someone else to do her dirty work for her? No. She planned and plotted and worked out every detail over thirty years. She was a woman who got shit done. She may have been insane, but she had good reason to be. She was driven to it, not some spoiled brat with a daddy complex who doesn’t have the guts to kill a flea!”

“I’m outta here,” Arena said and stormed out.

Berg didn’t even acknowledge he’d left. “You know what you are? You’re a loser who kills pussycats and takes advantage of sick people getting them to kill for you because you don’t have the guts to do it yourself. You couldn’t even kill a baby!”

The door flew open and banged against the wall, reverberating around the room like a shotgun blast.

“Berg!” Jay yelled. “That’s enough. You’re in enough trouble. Why are you trying to make it worse for yourself? Let her go! She’s not worth your time.”

Berg spun around and glared at Jay before turning back to Elizabeth.

The woman was pale and vibrating. She gripped the arms of the chair so tightly her knuckles were glowing white.

“Sit there and pretend you’ve won. You know damn well you don’t have the courage to look a person in the eyes and do what needs to be done. You never will!” Berg smiled sweetly as she gathered the folder and papers together. Taking a deep cleansing sigh, she hugged the paperwork close to her chest and looked up at Elizabeth. “Know this: I’m going home to sleep well tonight, and you can sleep safe in the knowledge that I’m just one of the millions who won’t even spare you a second thought, you pathetic little
coward
.”

Jay dragged her out of the room by the arm and before he could shut the door behind her, Berg mouthed
pathetic
over his shoulder.

Neither of them noticed that the lock didn’t catch or that the door swung back open slightly.

“What the fuck was that!” Jay yelled as soon as he had her in the hall.

“What the fuck are you doing taking her side?” Berg screamed.

“This isn’t about sides. This is about you being unable, or unwilling, to control yourself for the sake of your career, or mine!”

“Oh, please! The second your ex-girlfriend told you to shut it down, you did. Where’s your faith in me?”

“You just killed it! Along with my faith in your mental health. You are obsessed with this woman! What the hell is the matter with you? And why are you trying to take me with you?”

“Fuck you!” Berg yelled. “I want you, and your shit, out of my house!”

“Fine by me!” Jay shouted. “I’ll stay at Carla’s tonight and move my shit out over the weekend. Good riddance, you deranged slut!”

Jay cursed as Berg barreled out of the basement and up the stairs. “Jesus.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Hey, man,” Arena said sympathetically. “Couldn’t help but overhear—”

“Fuck off, Arena!”

“Yeah, sure,” Arena said, turning to go.

“Hey! Wait,” Jay said quickly. “Do me a favor, and I’ll let you keep your job.”

Arena turned back warily. “What?”

“Berg and I are done, but she’s lost it and I want to make sure she’s okay. Can you check on her later?”

“I guess, but I doubt, given the mood she’s in, she’ll be heading to her place anytime soon.”

Jay sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Look, there’s a place she goes to when she gets . . . like this. The Pub. You know it?”

“Yeah, sure. The bar near the University of Chicago, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Okay. My shift’s not over until eleven, and I have some interviews to conduct until then. I’ll check it out later and make sure she’s okay. I’m sure she won’t do anything too stupid before eleven. Let’s just hope she just gets good and drunk and has a hangover tomorrow.”

“Thanks, man.” Jay sighed.

Strangely, he felt grateful to Arena—it almost felt like he had a comrade in arms.

Chapter Forty-Six

I can’t explain, you would not understand.

This is not how I am.

I have become comfortably numb.

–Pink Floyd, “Comfortably Numb”

B
erg slugged down her sixth vodka shot—or was it her seventh?

She was getting the hang of this drinking deal. Maybe her mother had been onto something with the alcoholism thing. It wasn’t as pleasant and numbing as anonymous sex, but given a few more drinks, she wouldn’t be conscious enough to care about anything. And if that failed, she was in the right place to find the sex anyway.

“Hit me,” she said to the young, and very cute, bartender.

He looked at her with concern. “Maybe you’ve had enough?”

“Hit me!” She slammed her hand on the bar top as her words slurred. “You can lecture me on the dangers of drinking before I fuck you later. Or after. Dealer’s choice.”

The bartender looked her over and then nodded, filling up her shot glass from a Grey Goose bottle he fetched from under the counter.

“Keep ’em coming, and I’ll ensure you do the same. When do you get off?”

“Eleven,” he replied, smiling. “Think you’ll last till then?”

Berg squinted at her watch.

Have I really been here for four hours?

“Sure,” she said. Settling her attention back on her vodka, she shot the liquid to the back of her throat and held her breath as it tried to escape. If she lost it now, she’d have to start all over again, which was not appealing.

It went down and she took a few deep breaths, but rather than calming her stomach, Berg lurched to her feet and slapped her hand over her mouth.

She bolted for the bathroom, hoping to make it before she puked, only to notice a long line of barely dressed college girls already waiting.

She looked around desperately, spied an emergency exit through the drunken haze, and crashed though the door into the small dark alley beyond. Stumbling over to a half-full dumpster, she held onto it as she puked noisily into the street. Retching until she couldn’t possibly have anything left in her stomach, she wiped her mouth and headed back toward the emergency door.