Page 161 of Think Twice

When Myron does not reply, Greg asks, “So what do you want?”

“Did you know Grace planned to kill me?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

“I might,” Myron says. “I think she might have gone rogue there.”

“She was a killer, Myron.”

“So are you.”

Greg smiles. “Not like her though.”

“Are you going to tell me about it?”

Greg takes a seat on the corner of the bed. “I don’t have any choice really, do I? I assume Win is nearby. You wouldn’t have come without him.”

Myron does not reply.

“I don’t want to spend my life looking over my shoulder,” Greg says, crossing his legs, “so let’s get on with this, shall we? For starters, where did I go wrong?”

“Small things,” Myron says.

“Such as?”

“Grace killing Ronald Prine, for one. If Grace was the one who planted your DNA at the Callister murder scene to frame you, why would she be dumb enough to kill Prine while you were behind bars and couldn’t have done? That would only guarantee your release.”

“Because she’s crazy?” Greg tries.

Myron frowns. “Are we going to play that game?”

“Old habit, I guess. What else?”

“Your explanation for how the killer planted your DNA at the Callister scene.”

“You mean the pickup basketball game? I thought that was pretty inspired.”

“It was,” Myron admits, “but only on the surface. Some guy hits you in the nose during a game. You bleed. They collect your blood and leave it at the scene.”

“I got that idea from a novel, actually. Or maybe a short story.”

“Either way, we checked it out. No one at the Wallkill remembers you or a broken nose. The broken nose? That didn’t bother me. But no one remembered you, Greg. That’s what struck me. Win didn’t pick up on it. No one else would. But you and I…”

Greg nods. “You’re right. Someone would notice.”

“Greg Downing in a pickup game? I don’t care how you disguised yourself or dialed it back.”

“A real hoopster would have spotted me,” Greg says. “Dumb on my part.”

“Another thing,” Myron says.

He grins. “You sound like Columbo. What?”

“I saw you and Grace together at your house in Pine Bush. Briefly, I admit. And it could have been an act, but I don’t think so. I think you genuinely loved her.”

“I did.” His eyes close for a moment, his voice softer now. “I still do.”

“You even said it to me: Is it too corny to call her your soulmate?”