Run, Girl (If You Can)

Chapter 305: You\'re Welcome, Aaron

Lacy stared up at Gray blankly after he pushed her to the ground as if she didn\'t understand what was going on. She tried to pull herself back up but he straddled her, preventing that from happening.

There was no malice in his eyes. The woman was annoying but this was simply another thing on his to-do list.

Reschedule next week\'s collaboration meeting. Bring flowers to his mother\'s grave. Buy more toilet paper. Kill Lacy Knighton. It was that simple.

"It\'s a pity you wasted your life on delusions of grandeur. You might have actually made something of yourself otherwise," he clucked. "Sorry Lacy but you chose the wrong person to mess with."

Gray wasn\'t sorry at all. She deserved what she was getting. The apology didn\'t even matter; she wasn\'t lucid enough to understand what he was saying to her.

He had better make this quick. He would need to clean himself up, dispose of the knife, and make it back to the office before anyone noticed his absence.

A rough slash directly across her carotid artery did the job. Lacy\'s head hit the concrete almost immediately and she made a horrible gurgling noise. His work here was done. Nobody would be able to save her in time—it only took five minutes for that particular artery to bleed out.

Gray examined himself and discovered a few tiny drops of blood had made it onto his shirt. Great. He would have to get rid of that too. At least he owned three other shirts exactly like it.

He put his hands in his pockets and whistled as he made his way down the street away from the murder scene. His work here was done.

\'You\'re welcome, Aaron!\' he thought with a twisted smile on his face.

It would be interesting to see how he reacted when he found out the truth. He would likely be pleased…unless he suspected Gray\'s involvement. That simply wouldn\'t do.

Making his way back to his apartment, which wasn\'t terribly far from the Appzoid offices, he thought over how best to explain himself to the police when they eventually came calling. After all, he was one of the most frequently contacted people in Lacy\'s phone.

He had taken her phone and purse. Hopefully the police would think it was a mugging. That didn\'t mean he was safe though; they could call the phone company to get her call log. At least it would buy him a little time.

Back at his apartment, Gray bleached the knife and his ruined shirt. He would dispose of them in a random trash can far from his home or office. Perhaps Queens might be a good place to do it. No one would look for evidence of a murder that happened in the Bronx in Queens.

Those two areas were covered by different police precincts so even if they were found, the chance of them being connected was pretty low. Gray wasn\'t worried about the police catching him. They were all idiots.

No one had ever connected Alistair Hale to Mary Gray\'s murder despite the suspicious deposits he sent her each month. You would have to be pretty stupid not to look into a \'suicide\' victim\'s finances. Didn\'t most people kill themselves over financial worries?

Even if they found Gray\'s DNA on Lacy he could explain it away by telling them truthfully that she had assaulted him and been thrown out of his office. He had witnesses to back him up.

He really was more concerned about Aaron\'s reaction. This was exactly why he had wanted to use an untraceable car accident on the blasted woman. People died in car accidents every day; it wouldn\'t be suspicious at all.

If Aaron suspected him, he wouldn\'t want Gray near his family anymore because he had morals. He couldn\'t allow that to happen, not when Aaron finally seemed to be warming up toward him a little.

The main thing he was worried about was the conversation they had on the phone a few weeks ago where he asked if Aaron wanted Lacy out of the way. He would probably think of it once he heard the news that she was dead.

If that woman cost him Aaron\'s trust after all the effort Gray had put into securing it, he would be quite put out. Ugh, even in death she caused problems. People like Lacy Knighton shouldn\'t ever exist in the first place.

Gray disposed of the shirt and knife in two different trash cans several blocks apart in Queens before heading back to work. He snuck in through the secret back entrance that no one else knew about and continued looking through reports as if he had never left.

His secretary buzzed him, acting completely normal, which told him she hadn\'t tried contacting him while he was gone. He knew her temper; if she had tried getting a hold of him and he hadn\'t answered she would be cross now.

Excellent. His alibi was secure.

"What is it, Sharon?" he asked professionally.

"Mr. Meyer, your three o\'clock appointment is here."

With all that had been going on today, Gray had nearly forgotten he was set to meet with the head of the staffing agency he got most of his intern programmers through. As a former budding programmer himself, he liked to give newbies a chance.

"Send him in."

He waited primly behind his desk for Charles Bower to come in. He always reminded Gray of a frog because of his wide mouth and shiny bald head. Unfortunately not everyone could look as good as he did.

Nevertheless, he offered a charming smile to his guest and sent Sharon to fetch them both some coffee. He exchanged pleasantries with the man about his wife and family for a few minutes.

"What about you, Graydon? Do you have a family of your own yet?" Charles asked jovially.

Gray shook his head. "No but I\'ve been rather enjoying spending time with my younger brother and his family lately."

"I didn\'t even know you had a brother."

Sharon arrived with the coffee and the conversation shifted towards the real reason for the meeting. But Gray couldn\'t help but smile wryly at Charles\' previous statement. No one knew he had a brother.

That wouldn\'t be the case for long. As soon as Aaron kicked their father out of Hale Investments, Gray would deal the final blow to Alistair\'s reputation by revealing the truth about his illegitimate child. It would surely bring that cold, proud man to his knees beyond the point of recovery.