On page 10:
"G And that was it. She stopped moving. I went downstairs and I started crying. I was worried, really worried. I sent Verena a text message not to come home."
Crying?? He's crying?? Oh, cry me a river! He's worried, too. Not only worried, but "really worried." So, what does he do? Call 911? She could have been saved it they had got there fast enough. Nope! Our Stevie text messages Verena, the au pair, telling her not to come home. He goes on, after saying that he and Verena had been texting back and forth:
"G I knew--I knew she couldn't come home. I knew if Verena, if she came home she would see stuff."
"She would see stuff." He said there was no blood. He had not yet put the body in the SUV--he hadn't done anything. At this point, Tara was still lying on the floor in the master bathroom. How much access did Verena have to the master bathroom? In a normal household, not a lot, except for cleaning, which certainly would not be happening at 11:00 PM on a Friday night. Or, by "she would see stuff," did he mean that she would see his sin writ large all over his face? "Stuff" is such a vague word.
And then, the story starts to get funny, in a sick, black humour kind of a way.
He has just finished loading Tara's remains into the back of her SUV, and covering in her with a truck bed liner. He is in the garage, stark naked in the Michigan winter, and he hears a garage door opener engage the door. It's Verena, coming home. He has to hightail it back upstairs to get into some jammies before she comes in. Can't you just see him, scampering up the stairs, heart pounding, to get some clothes on before the girl gets inside? I wonder if he took a moment to splash cold water on his face to try and disguise the remains of the tears.
What a revolting piece of shit!
The more I read of this confession, the more I despise this sorry excuse for a man.