by Sara Shepard
His attention snapped back to the TV, where police were leading Skip Ingram out of the Dexby Country Club. He was wearing an expensive-looking tan suit, and his shoulders were hunched. For a split second, he looked at the camera. His eyes were watery.
Maddox groaned. ‘Why do they always do the crying thing?’
‘Mr. Ingram, do you have a comment?’ the reporter yelled.
The camera turned to Mr. Ingram again. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then glanced at someone offscreen and shut his mouth.
Maddox turned to Seneca. ‘We got him. We found him. Isn’t it amazing?’
Seneca’s mouth twitched. ‘I don’t know. It feels too easy …’
Brett waved his hand. ‘Are you kidding? He’s our guy for sure. Stop worrying.’
‘But we don’t actually know if he killed her … or why.’
‘Who cares why?’ Brett said. ‘Her blood was in that apartment. He did it.’
Seneca stared uncertainly at the cross-stitched pillow she was holding to her chest. Maddox couldn’t help but notice her hair half falling out of its ponytail, remembering the feel of that hair against his hands. He chuckled weakly. ‘So let me get this straight. You’re pissed when you’re wrong, but you’re miserable when you’re right?’ He dared to flick her thigh with his thumb and forefinger. ‘You are impossible to figure out.’
Seneca retaliated by half-heartedly tossing a peanut-butter egg at his ear. Snickering, he threw a mini chocolate bunny her way, and it bounced off her chest. Seneca’s eyes narrowed, and she grabbed the Easter basket and dumped the whole thing over his head with gusto. ‘Hey!’ Maddox squealed. But he secretly didn’t care. He was just glad that she was paying attention to him again, finally back to her old self.
Madison, who was sitting at the end of the couch, made a big production of standing and stretching. ‘I have to get ready for the Easter Bunny party.’ She gave Maddox a sly smile.
Brett slowly and creakily stood, too. ‘And I’ll, um, see what the weather’s like outside.’
They scuttled out. As a commercial came on TV for Kim’s, a local restaurant, Maddox snuck a glance at Seneca. She gave him a cagey one back. ‘Was that planned?’
‘No,’ Maddox said honestly. ‘Though, um, I have wanted to talk with you alone. I wanted to tell you again that I’m sorry.’
Seneca’s brow furrowed. ‘You already did. And I already forgave you.’
‘Even for what happened on the patio?’
‘Yep. It’s fine.’ She stared straight ahead.
‘No, it’s not. I can tell.’
Seneca blew air out of her nose and glanced at him for a split second. ‘We can’t just pretend everything’s normal again. Life doesn’t work that way.’
Maddox nodded, feeling a pinch of sadness. ‘I wish it did.’ He sighed. ‘I just want us to be friends again. You’re different to anyone I’ve ever known. And by that, I mean better.’
She gave him a circumspect look. ‘You use that line on all the girls?’
Maddox shook his head. It wasn’t some throwaway line to get into her pants. What he really wanted, he realized, was just her – being around her, hanging out with her, talking. Even if that meant they were just friends. ‘I really like you,’ he said. ‘I have since our first conversation online. I think you’re funny and smart, and every new thing I find out about you makes me like you more.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Even about your mom. Even about how you screwed up at school.’
Seneca made a face. ‘Thanks for compiling that flattering list of all my best attributes.’ But then she stared at the floor. ‘I have to say, you’re full of surprises, Maddox. It threw me off at first. But maybe I don’t mind it so much now.’
Maddox felt his cheeks grow pink and turned to look at her directly, eyes questioning. She was looking straight at him, her face open, vulnerable. Did she …
The door slammed. Maddox shot away from Seneca, heart in his throat. It was just his mother, Betsy, in the doorway. ‘Okay, Maddy,’ she chirped perfunctorily. ‘You ready to go?’
Maddox blinked. ‘Go … where?’
‘Practice. With Catherine.’
For a moment, Maddox was stunned. ‘I-is she here?’ He pictured Catherine camping out in his front yard. Peeking in his window. Had she been watching him and Seneca?
His mother slipped on her blue Toms. Her gaze landed on the TV, and a strange look came across her features – they hadn’t yet discussed Helena. ‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘She just called. She said you’ve missed a few practices, but she had time this afternoon if you wanted to play catch-up. I left you a note. You didn’t see it?’
Maddox blinked. He hadn’t seen any note.
‘I have to drive you because I need your car to pick up some flowers to take over to Aunt Harriet’s.’ She brushed her hands on her pants. ‘So let’s go.’
Maddox scrambled for an excuse. ‘I’m feeling kind of wiped out,’ he said weakly.
His mom put her hands on her hips. ‘It’s important you keep to the schedule.’
There was a huge lump in his throat. He had to get out of this. He couldn’t see Catherine right now. But how could he explain that?
He looked at Seneca. She shrugged innocently. ‘Go ahead. I don’t mind.’
Maddox stood, feeling trapped. In the car, he couldn’t think of a thing to say to his mom, not even about Helena. His emotions felt convoluted. He needed to face Catherine with a level head. And tell her – well, what exactly did he want to tell her? Could he really say goodbye to Oregon? On the other hand, did he really want to be trapped in her crazy web?
The rec center parking lot was empty save for only two vehicles – a blue van that seemed to always be there and Catherine’s Prius. Maddox spied her sitting on the bleachers near the track, her favorite spot. His nerves started to snap under his skin.
Stay calm, he chanted silently, stepping out of the Jeep. Just be honest. As he approached her, Catherine rose to her feet, her eyes huge and round. Maddox took a breath, steadying himself.
‘Catherine.’ Maddox was pleased to hear his voice come out loud and strong. ‘We have to talk.’
CHAPTER 31
The kitchen had fallen dark around Aerin, but she hadn’t turned on any lights. She sat at the table, turning an apple-shaped saltshaker over and over in her hands. The TV was off. The lid to her laptop was closed. The news was everywhere – on every channel, maybe even Animal Planet – but it wasn’t like she needed it rehashed. It would start all over again, she knew. The stares. The questions. The whispers.
When she heard the engine in the driveway and a car door slam, she placed the saltshaker back on the table and stared at the door to the garage. Her mother floated into the house like a wayward balloon. Her hands were shaking. There were circles under her eyes. She noticed Aerin and came to a stop in the middle of the kitchen, her arms drooped at her sides.
Aerin stood. ‘I tried to call you. Your line was busy.’
Mrs. Kelly groped for the back of a chair. ‘I know. I was talking to Kinkaid … and then the NYPD … and then your father.’ She glanced at Aerin. ‘They’re saying a source tipped them off about the … relationship. Was it you?’
Aerin’s stomach was in knots. ‘Did the chief tell you?’ Kinkaid, the chief of police whom Aerin had spoken with, swore he would keep her identity a secret.
Mrs. Kelly shook her head. ‘I figured it out.’ She shut her eyes. ‘You’ve been digging, right? This was why you went to Kevin’s engagement party, wasn’t it? And before all this broke, Marissa mentioned you stopped by yesterday, unannounced. But are you sure? Are you sure Skip …’
Killed her? Aerin silently filled in.
In brief interludes between hating Mr. Ingram’s guts and wanting to murder him, Aerin did feel the teensiest bit of doubt, especially because Mr. Ingram had made an emphatic statement saying he was innocent and that he’d loved Helena deeply. What if he was telling the truth? A memory had come to Aerin a few hours ago: one summer,
the Ingram family’s cat, Pickles, had dropped a mouse at the back door, and Mr. Ingram had been terrified to even touch it. It had been Heath, actually, who’d carried the thing to the trash.
And speaking of Pickles, Mr. Ingram was crazy about that cat, paying thousands of dollars for expensive feline chemotherapy when she had bone cancer because he hated the idea of losing her. It was an Ingram family joke, actually – Dad loves Pickles more than us. Was that a man who beat his girlfriend so badly her bones still showed the trauma after five years of rot?
Of course, if she believed Mr. Ingram, she’d also have to believe his story that Helena had been the one who insisted she sneak out of Dexby and live with him … and that he was planning to bring her back to her family. She tried to picture Helena and Mr. Ingram working out the details, negotiating their plans. Could Helena have really thought, I need this private time with this person, it will only be a few months, and then everything will be perfect? Didn’t she consider how worried her family would be? Why hadn’t she at least figured out some way to get in touch with them to assure them that she was okay? Aerin had heard many times that love would make you do stupid things, that it was as powerful as a drug. But she couldn’t imagine her smart, headstrong older sister actually falling for that bullshit. Aerin never had.
Aerin cleared her throat, aware that her mother was still staring at her. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s him,’ she mumbled.
Mrs. Kelly drew back like Aerin had kicked her. ‘Don’t feel sorry.’ Her voice was sharp. ‘He hurt her. He hurt us. He should have known better. She was a little girl.’
Aerin’s eyes filled with tears, and for a moment they both silently cried. When she looked over again, her mother was watching Aerin in a tender, heartbroken manner Aerin hadn’t seen in forever. ‘I work too much,’ she said out of the blue. ‘I pretend not to see things. But I do – I see what’s going on with you, and I thought I did with her, too. Shouldn’t I have seen this coming?’
‘Don’t be crazy.’
There were tears in Mrs. Kelly’s eyes. ‘But I had him in my house. I left them alone together! What mother does that?’
Aerin was about to answer, but then her mom collapsed. Aerin edged forward and tentatively wrapped her arms around her mother’s shuddering body. Mrs. Kelly leaned on her so heavily Aerin almost tipped over. Her shoulder was instantly wet with her mom’s tears.
She let her mom cry for a while until her sobs turned to whimpers. Then Mrs. Kelly raised her head, took a few cleansing breaths, and wiped her eyes. ‘Your father’s coming in shortly. And there’s a press conference tomorrow morning. I need you to be there.’
Aerin sighed heavily. What did her mom think she was going to do – not go? ‘Fine.’
‘And we’re going to the Easter Bunny party later, as a family.’
Aerin sat back in the chair. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
Mrs. Kelly raised her chin. ‘We have to be strong. We have to go on with our lives. Even your dad’s going to attend.’
‘That’s what’s important here? I think people would forgive us if we stayed home.’
Her mother pushed stray hairs behind her ears. ‘I picked up your dress from the tailor. It’s still in the car. I have a stylist coming at five. Let me know if you’d like her to give you a blowout.’
Then she rose and glided to her room like some sort of deranged princess. Aerin stared after her, waiting for her mom to return and say it was all a joke. The shower water started. Food Network, which her mom always put on when she was getting ready for something, blared.
Aerin rose and walked up to her own room, flung open her closet, and looked at her shoes. They were all hideous. How the hell was she going to get into party mode?
She felt so scattered, and tense, and still very, very afraid. Wasn’t she supposed to feel better, now that her sister’s killer had been caught? And yet every movement she heard, she flinched. Every time her phone buzzed, she stiffened, anticipating something horrible. Meanwhile, all those buzzes were just nosy people wanting to know what she thought about Mr. Ingram.
God, she wished she had someone to talk to. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her texts, eventually clicking on Thomas’s name. Had a grilled cheese for lunch and thought of you, read another text he’d sent yesterday afternoon. And then, a few hours later: At the grocery store and saw some borscht, he’d written yesterday. Looks delish if you ever want to have a picnic. She smiled, thinking of the bags of chips he’d dumped on the coffee table for her.
She picked up her phone and dialed a number. ‘Dexby PD,’ Thomas answered on the second ring, his voice gravelly and familiar and heartbreaking. Aerin paused on the line for a moment, breathing rhythmically. ‘Hello?’ Thomas said on the other end. ‘Hello?’
Aerin hung up and got her coat. She couldn’t talk to him over the phone. This was something she needed to do in person.
There were barely any squad cars at the police station, and half the lights were off. Aerin pictured most of the cops home already, eating an Easter ham. Or wait. Maybe a lot of them were in a New York City office, talking about her sister … or else searching the Ingram estate. It was weird to think the whole freaking town was once again buzzing about Helena.
Aerin’s watch said it was 6 p.m. The Easter Bunny party started in an hour. Her dress hung on a hook in the backseat, and her heels were in the trunk. Her mom’s stylist had fixed her hair into a weird Barbie-doll style before letting her leave the house, and it looked particularly incongruous against her ripped Frame jeans and tight white tee.
It had started to pour, and she covered her head and sprinted from her car to the awning that covered the station’s entrance. She knew from the many times she’d had to come here for interviews about Helena that the doors to the station were locked after seven; then you had to use a keycard. She wondered where Thomas’s office was in the building. Should she call him?
‘Aerin?’
Thomas stood behind her, half in the rain, holding a Starbucks cup, presumably from the store down the street. It was as though just thinking about him had conjured him up.
‘H-hey,’ Aerin stammered, feeling unsteady.
Thomas stepped under the awning. ‘This Helena stuff … are you okay?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe not at all.’
‘Were you the one who tipped off the cops? How did you know?’
She shifted back and forth. The group had advised her never, ever to tell anyone they’d broken in to the Dakota apartment. ‘I remembered something that connected her and Mr. Ingram. And I knew he had a place in New York City. It was a lucky guess.’
He ran his hand over his wet hair. ‘I’ve been trying to reach you. I figured out it was Skip Ingram, too.’
‘You did?’
‘I really scoured those files about your sister. There are security camera images of Helena from the days and weeks before she went missing – from grocery stores, ATMs, at school. The cops canvassed all sorts of things to get clues about her life. One feed was from outside Coldwaters Spa, from about mid-November. You know that place?’
‘Sure.’ Coldwaters Spa was where girls in Aerin’s grade prepped for their Sweet Sixteens. Her mother went there weekly, but Aerin found the silver tea settings and nonstop doilies too froufrou. ‘Helena was there?’
‘The surveillance camera caught her getting into a car that wasn’t hers. Someone was picking her up, but it wasn’t your parents. The detective at the time didn’t follow up on whose car it was – I don’t know why. I did some digging for the make and model – it’s a run-of-the-mill BMW, but it’s got these custom rims and bigger tires. I guess my extensive car knowledge paid off.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, it belonged to Ingram. I was going to tell you … but it looks like you were one step ahead of me.’
Aerin gaped at him. ‘You were going to tell me private police business?’
A clap of thunder sounded. Thomas glanced toward the sky, then back at her. ‘I tho
ught it might be necessary. I knew you were looking around, asking questions. I wanted to make sure you were safe.’
Aerin felt a shiver, and it wasn’t from the damp cold. ‘Well, thanks.’
‘You’re welcome, but it’s not like you really needed my help, so …’
Across the street, Aerin caught sight of a single bright yellow daffodil poking up from the flower bed. It gave her a rush of optimism. Maybe this would be okay.
She smiled slyly, tilting her hips. ‘My mom’s forcing me to go to the Easter Bunny party.’
‘Really?’ Thomas looked surprised. ‘That seems … awkward.’
‘Right?’ Aerin felt a rush of trust. She knew he’d sympathize. ‘Wanna be my date?’
Thomas smiled regretfully. ‘I have to cover the station. I just stepped out for coffee.’
‘You can’t switch with someone?’ She fluttered her lashes. ‘We could see if they still have that Cream of Wheat. And maybe we could ride in the squad car. I’ve never been in one.’
Thomas walked right up to her. Aerin took in his well-fitting uniform and his chiseled face. There was a spot on his neck that he’d missed shaving. She wanted to touch it.
She tilted her head up and closed her eyes as he put a hand gently on her shoulder, drawing her close. The raindrops on the awning sounded musical. It was like the whole world was holding its breath.
Then she felt Thomas’s muscles stiffen. ‘Sorry, but I’m in the doghouse – no shift switching for me. The chief thinks I gave out my password for someone to hack into the server.’
Aerin’s eyes sprang open. Thomas’s smile had disappeared. ‘O-oh,’ she stammered.
He met her gaze steadily, his eyes cold. ‘I know it was you, Aerin.’
Aerin recoiled. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking ab—’
‘The system tracks when we log in and what we look at,’ Thomas interrupted briskly. ‘The first login was right after you left my place the other night, and the only files opened were ones about Helena. The second time was when I was in a department-wide meeting, which is why Kinkaid knows someone else had my password. He thinks I shared it with someone willingly.’ He pulled out a keycard from his pocket, turned, and swiped it against the keypad. The pad beeped, and the door unlocked. ‘I also noticed that my Notepad app was open on my iPad after you left. The page with all my passwords.’