Chapter 38 Erasure (Doris Vale POV)
I pace my apartment for three hours after Donald leaves. Back and forth, back and forth, my mind spinning.
He asked what I'm hiding. And when Vanessa Cross starts digging deeper, when Hayes keeps investigating, they'll find it. They'll find Sarah. They'll connect the dots.
Sarah Vale. Doris Vale. Sisters.
It's only a matter of time.
My phone sits on the counter, Eddie's contact staring at me. I've called him twenty times in the past month. Voicemail every time. But maybe...
I dial.
It rings. Once. Twice. Three...
"Doris." His voice is rough, annoyed. "Thought I told you not to call about that business."
"I need to meet. Today. It's urgent."
A long pause. "That urgent?"
"Yes."
"Christ." I hear traffic in the background, voices. "There's a truck stop off Highway 9. Rusty's Diner. You know it?"
"I'll find it."
"Two hours. And Doris? Come alone. No trackers, no phones left on. You understand?"
"I understand."
The line goes dead.
I grab my keys, jacket, purse. Check my phone one more time, no messages from Donald. I power it off completely and leave it on the counter.
The drive takes forty-five minutes. Highway 9 stretches empty and gray, the landscape flat and boring. Rusty's Diner appears like a mirage, faded red sign, half-full parking lot, truckers' rigs lined up along the side.
I park in the back, away from the main entrance. Check my watch. Still thirty minutes early.
I wait. Watch semis pull in and out. A family exits the diner, kids running ahead while parents call after them. Normal. Everything's so fucking normal except my life.
At exactly two hours, a black sedan pulls in. Eddie gets out wearing a wrinkled suit. He spots my car, nods once, and heads inside.
I follow.
Eddie's already in a corner booth, menu open in front of him. I slide in across from him.
"Doris." He doesn't look up. "You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"Order something. Looks less suspicious."
A waitress appears, older woman, name tag says Brenda. "What can I get you, hon?"
"Just coffee," I say.
"Same," Eddie adds.
She pours two cups and disappears. Eddie sets down the menu, finally looking at me.
"So. What's so urgent you're calling me after I explicitly told you not to?"
"I need my history cleaned."
"Your history."
"Yes. Birth records, school records, anything connecting me to..." I lower my voice. "To my sister. Sarah Vale. I need that connection erased."
Eddie leans back, studying me. "You're serious."
"Completely."
"Why?"
"Because people are digging. Reporters, cops, Internal Affairs. And if they find the connection..."
"They'll connect you to the contract." He nods slowly. "Smart. Should've done this from the start."
"Can you do it?"
"Can I?" He laughs, low and bitter. "Yeah, I can do it. Question is, should I?"
"What's that mean?"
"It means you're playing with fire, love. Getting involved with a cop whose family you're having killed? That's not smart. That's suicidal."
"I didn't plan for this to happen."
"Obviously." He takes a sip of coffee, grimacing. "Christ, this is terrible. So what's the story? You fall for him or something?"
I don't answer. Just stare at my own cup.
"Jesus." Eddie sets down his mug. "You did. You fell for the mark."
"He's not a mark."
"He's the target's family. Same thing." He shakes his head. "Doris, what the hell are you doing?"
"I don't know." My voice cracks. "I don't know, okay? It just happened."
"Things like this don't just happen. You make choices. Bad ones, apparently."
"Can you help me or not?"
He drums his fingers on the table, thinking. "Erasing records isn't simple. Birth certificates, school enrollment, medical records, there are copies everywhere. Takes time. Takes money."
"How much?"
"Two hundred thousand."
I don't flinch. "Fine."
"Plus expenses. Could run another fifty."
"I said fine."
He watches me. "You got that kind of cash lying around?"
"I have it."
"Right. Inheritance." He leans forward. "Listen to me carefully. Even if I erase the paper trail, people remember. Your parents' friends, Sarah's coworkers, anyone who knew you both. I can't make them forget."
"I'll take that risk."
"Will you? Because one conversation with the wrong person and this whole thing falls apart."
"My parents are dead. Sarah's been gone three years. Most people have moved on."
"Most isn't all."
"It'll have to be enough." I meet his eyes. "Can you do it or not?"
He sighs, rubbing his face. "Yeah. I can do it. Give me two weeks."
"I need it faster."
"Can't be done faster. This isn't filing paperwork, Doris. This is hacking databases, forging documents, making sure everything lines up. Rush it and it'll look suspicious."
"One week."
"Ten days. That's the best I can do."
I nod. "Fine. Ten days."
"I'll need half upfront. Wire it to the account I'll send you."
"Done."
Brenda reappears, topping off our coffee. We sit in silence until she leaves.
"One more thing," Eddie says. "Your friend. The Surgeon. Any word from him?"
"No. His number's disconnected. I can't reach him."
"Good. Maybe he's done."
"You think so?"
"Two kills, couple weeks of silence? Either he's laying low or he's moved on. Some of these guys get bored, find easier targets." He shrugs. "Or maybe he figured out you're fucking the detective and decided it's too messy."
"There haven't been any new deaths," I say, almost to myself. "Not since Margaret. That was what, two weeks ago?"
"Maybe he finally saw reason. Or got paid enough to walk away."
"I didn't pay him to walk away. I tried to cancel and he refused."
"Then maybe someone else got to him. Cops, feds, rival contractor. This business—people disappear all the time."
The thought should comfort me. Instead, it just makes me anxious. What if The Surgeon resurfaces? What if he strikes again?
"The heart wants what it wants," I say quietly.
Eddie snorts. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. The heart's an idiot. Gets you killed."
"I know."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, you're walking straight into a bear trap."
"I'm trying to avoid the trap. That's why I called you."
"You're avoiding one trap while stepping into another." He drains his coffee, standing. "But hey, it's your funeral. Literally, if this goes wrong."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I'm serious, Doris. If this cop finds out who you are, what you did, he'll destroy you. And he'll be justified."
"I know."
"Then why are you doing this?"
I look up at him. "Because I love him."
Eddie just shakes his head.
"You're an idiot."
"I know that too."
He drops cash on the table, enough for both coffees and a generous tip. "Ten days. I'll text when it's done. Use a burner when you wire the money. And Doris?"
"Yeah?"
"If I were you, I'd start planning an exit strategy. Because this thing you're doing with the cop? It won't end well. It can't. There's no scenario it ends well."
"I know."
"But you're doing it anyway."
"Yeah."
He walks out, the door chiming behind him. I sit there for another ten minutes, staring at my cold coffee.
Two hundred thousand dollars to erase my sister from my history. To break the connection that will damn me if anyone finds it.
Ten days until I'm someone new. Someone with no ties to Sarah Vale, no reason to want revenge on Detective Donald Eric.
Ten days until I can breathe again.
If The Surgeon stays quiet. If Vanessa Cross doesn't dig deeper. If Hayes doesn't find something I missed.
So many ifs.
I stand, leaving my own cash on the table. Brenda waves as I pass. "You take care now, hon."
"You too."
Eddie's right. I'm an idiot. Walking into a trap while trying to avoid another one. Falling in love with the man I tried to destroy.
But he's also wrong. Because this isn't about being smart or stupid. It's about the fact that when Donald looks at me, I feel human again. When he touches me, I'm not the woman who hired a killer. I'm just Dora—whoever that is.
And maybe that's worth the risk. Maybe it's worth everything.
Or maybe I'm just lying to myself again.
I pull out of the lot, merging onto the highway. The road stretches ahead, empty and gray. Same as always.
Ten days.
I just need to survive ten days.