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The Last to See Her

Page 16

by Courtney Evan Tate


  “We’re just going through a rough patch,” Joe said, even though he didn’t sound convinced. “But while she was working long hours, I almost went for coffee with another woman, Gen. Who does that?”

  Your wife, Gen thought. But, of course, she didn’t say it.

  “You’re being too hard on yourself,” she said instead. “I’m sure Meg has men coming on to her all the time. She’s a surgeon, and she’s not an angel. She likes her ego stroked as much as the next person. So quit beating yourself up.”

  “She’s not an angel... Do you know something I don’t?” he asked slowly, searching her face for an answer.

  “Of course not,” she lied. “I was just saying that someone came on to you and that it’s not your fault. I’m sure it happens to Meg, too. The important thing is that you said no.”

  “Men watch her wherever we go,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s just the way she is. She owns a room. She lights it up. You do the same thing, you know.”

  He said it so kindly that she almost blushed.

  “Thank you. That’s nice to hear. Thad is gone so much that I rarely hear those things anymore. It’s nice to know people still think so.”

  “Surely women like you and Meg know that about yourselves, right? You know what effect you have on people?” Joe was being honestly curious. So, Gen answered him honestly.

  “Sometimes we know it,” she confided. “But sometimes we forget. When it’s been too long since we’ve been reminded. Egos are fragile things, Joe.”

  “Want to know one of my favorite things?” he asked quietly. Gen nodded, sipping her wine.

  “I love it when we have something we have to attend, one of her fundraisers for the hospital or something. We both have to get dressed up, and I’ll watch her getting ready. She sits at her vanity, and so carefully does up her hair and makeup. She looks so beautiful, and I know that even though everyone else gets to see her, I’m the only one going home with her. I get to take her hair down at the end of the night.”

  It was such a sweet thing to say, it was almost painful, and Gen had a lump in her throat.

  “Lord, it would be nice to have someone feel that way about me,” she said, and it was the truth.

  “Thad does,” Joe said confidently, but Gen shook her head.

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “Then why do you stay?” he asked. “You could have anyone you want.”

  She suddenly found that she wanted to tell him the truth, to spill her guts, to tell him everything. Her tongue started to move, but his face was so sweet...and she couldn’t.

  She couldn’t hurt him that way.

  So instead, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Because it’s not a bad life, it’s just not necessarily a good one.”

  “I don’t think that’s enough,” Joe said hesitantly. “And you don’t have any kids. So you don’t have a reason to stay.”

  She shrugged again. “Maybe I won’t, someday. For now, I don’t want the hassle.”

  She couldn’t tell him that she was plotting out revenge, and she needed time for that.

  “Well, you’re welcome over here anytime,” he told her. “You’re our family. Come here, kid.” He pulled her into a hug, and she inhaled the scent of cedar.

  She’d forgotten how much she liked it.

  35

  Jody, Then

  Jody wrapped her fuzzy robe around her body and turned on an episode of Gossip Girl.

  She texted her brother.

  Thaddie, come see me. I’m lonely.

  She had made it through three episodes before he answered.

  I can’t tonight, punkin. Gen made dinner.

  Jody threw her phone down. It was always Gen this, Gen that. Yet, Thad would never tell Gen about her.

  I can’t, Dee-dee, he’d said. I can’t live with what I did to Mom and Dad. Or what I did to you. You understand, don’t you?

  But she didn’t. What did he do to her? She was fine, the same as she always was. She had her Barbies and her television shows. She was a good girl for her brother, and so why couldn’t she just go live with him?

  His secretary, Angie, had told her not too long ago that thinking about what he did to Jody made him sad, that he felt so guilty he could barely stand it.

  “He has something called PTSD,” Angie told her. “It makes him panicky when he thinks about what he did.” Jody didn’t understand.

  The accident that had killed their parents was an accident. She shouldn’t have to pay for it. She was always alone, just because Thad didn’t want anyone to know, and didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t fair.

  She told him so once, and he had been so hurt.

  “Dee, do I not provide you with the best possible life?” he’d asked, his tone wounded. “Do I not make sure that you have everything you could ever want?”

  “I want a friend,” she’d told him. “I don’t like being alone. I just want to be with you.”

  “I don’t think Gen would understand,” he’d told her. “I’m so sorry, Dee. Maybe someday.”

  Genevieve sounded like a terrible person, at least to Jody. What kind of person wouldn’t approve of someone’s sister?

  “Can you tell me a story about Mama? I can’t remember her face.”

  Thad looked uncomfortable, like he did every time she asked. “It makes my heart hurt,” he told her yet again. “I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, I have to get home, punkin.”

  He’d left her alone, night after night. He sent Angie a couple of times a week to buy her groceries, but she never stayed long because she was busy. They were all busy.

  Jody wasn’t supposed to leave the building alone, but she wanted to get a glimpse of this Gen, the person who kept her brother from her.

  So, one day, she slipped out of her own building and waited outside of her brother’s. She felt so invisible. If something happened to her, no one would even notice. It was a bad, bad feeling.

  She began a pattern of sneaking out of her own home and watching Thad’s. She watched Gen come and go, and soon she had learned quite a bit about her brother’s wife.

  She got her hair styled at an expensive place, she had a huge collection of purses, but most importantly, she had two homes.

  And Jody couldn’t imagine why.

  Was she lying to Thad about something? Because that wasn’t acceptable.

  No one could ever hurt her brother. He was the most important person in the world.

  The next night, Thad came to visit. He brought Chinese food and cupcakes, her two favorites.

  When Gen texted and asked him where he was, he replied, Sorry honey. I have to work late.

  Jody tried not to let that sting, but it did.

  She wasn’t work. She was a person. She was his family.

  He let her snuggle up against him while they watched Beauty and the Beast, and he tucked her into bed before he left for the night.

  “I love you, munchkin,” he told her, as he kissed her forehead.

  “Then tell Gen about me,” she couldn’t help but say. He frowned.

  “Someday. But see, at this point, she’ll be angry that I didn’t tell her before now. And who could blame her? It was stupid to lie. But lies beget lies, Dee-dee. Once we start, it’s hard to stop.”

  “Just choose to stop,” she said helplessly, staring at the night-light that moved around the room in shapes like the moon and stars.

  “One day,” he agreed. “One day, I will.”

  “And then I can move in with you?” she asked hopefully.

  He nodded. “Yes. Then you can move in with us.”

  She fell asleep with that wish in her heart.

  It was difficult for her to comprehend the passage of days sometimes, but she used a calendar and marked them off.

  She kept following Gen, and even Thad
. She watched him and Angie shuffling into the courthouse, their hands full of files. She watched him working late, and she watched the lights turn out in his condo long before he got home. Gen didn’t even wait up for him.

  Jody got very good at evading her own doorman, since she wasn’t supposed to be out and about. Thad worried about her wandering.

  She counted the days and was surprised when one day, Thad showed up on her doorstep with a suitcase.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him, as she stood in front of him in her Cinderella T-shirt.

  “Gen and I are splitting up,” he told her with a sigh. “I’m going to stay with you for now.”

  “Does Gen know about me yet?” she asked hopefully.

  “No. And now it doesn’t matter, punkin. I’ll stay here with you, and it will be you and me.”

  Her heart leaped, and it was true. Thad stayed with her—he moved into the second bedroom, and she wasn’t lonely at all. She knew that every night, no matter how late he had to work, Thad would come home and sleep under the same roof as she did.

  It was wonderful.

  Until the night when she was up getting a drink of water, and she overheard Thad talking in his sleep.

  “Gen,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. Gen.”

  She froze, her hand on her glass.

  Her brother didn’t want to get back together with Gen, did he? If he did, she’d be pushed aside once again, and all alone. There was no way she could go back to living like that.

  It struck such a fear in her heart that she started following Gen again.

  She started to keep tabs.

  She started to plan.

  Her mind wasn’t what it used to be, but surely...she could do this.

  36

  Meg, Now

  Meg and Hawk met at the coffee shop in the lobby at 9:00 a.m.

  Meg already had a coffee in her hand, and she put one into Hawk’s, too.

  “Thanks,” he told her. “You ready?”

  She nodded and they piled into a cab. They went to Thad’s sister’s first.

  He rapped on the door, then rang the bell. But no one answered.

  They went down to the desk, and the concierge confirmed that Jody hadn’t been home in at least a week.

  “I can give her your card, though, when she returns?” He lifted an eyebrow. “But you should know, she’s got brain damage. You were aware, weren’t you?”

  Hawk nodded. “Yeah. How bad is it?”

  The clerk shrugged. “She comprehends more than people assume, I think. She’s like a little kid. But a smart kid.”

  Hawk handed him a card. “Then please, give her this and ask her to call me.”

  They got back in the cab, and Meg shook her head. “This is still crazy to me,” she said. “I can’t believe he has living family. And that he never told any of us. It’s insane.”

  “When you’ve been around as many people as I have, you learn that you never truly know someone. There are always secrets, always facets of them that you won’t discover. It keeps things interesting,” he added.

  “If you say so,” she muttered.

  They pulled up in front of Gen’s old apartment, and Hawk helped Meg from the cab to the street.

  “You know I have to go in first, and you have to wait outside,” he reminded her.

  She nodded.

  “Yes, I remember that you don’t trust me,” she said, and he smiled at that.

  “Something like that.”

  She had been aware that their shoulders were touching in the cab. Last night, it had taken her hours to get to sleep, and the reason was sitting right beside her. Something about him attracted her, even though this was the worst possible time.

  I’m a monster, she decided.

  They both looked up at the higher floors of the building.

  Up there, Meg thought, Gen held a secret.

  “Wait in the lobby, not out here,” Hawk told her, glancing around.

  Meg smiled. “This is just a sleepy little bedroom community, remember?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Best to wait in the lobby.”

  So she did. She watched him disappear into the elevator, and while he rose high in the sky, her stomach sank. She knew, she just knew, that nothing good was going to come from this.

  She paced the lobby, minute after minute, waiting for a call from Hawk telling her it was clear for her to go up. She watched the traffic through the front doors, she watched people passing by on the sidewalks. She waited for the call that didn’t come for half an hour.

  When she answered, he was terse.

  “You can come up.”

  The floors passed slowly in the elevator, but when she stepped off at the once familiar floor, he was standing there, waiting for her.

  “What did you find?” she asked, as they walked down the hallway together.

  He didn’t answer. He led her through the door she recognized from years ago into the apartment, and she stopped still at a massive photo collage assembled on the living room wall in front of her.

  The photos of her and Thad outside of the hotel where they’d met that night were the largest. They were right in the center, surrounded by separate photos of Thad and another woman, positioned as though she’d been following them all.

  To see the photos all there in one place made her feel sick to her stomach; it also made her question her sister’s sanity. Who would paste all of this on her own wall? It looked like something a serial killer might do.

  The pictures were damning, for certain. It made it quite apparent that she and Thad had something to hide.

  Her cheeks flared hot and red, and she glanced at Hawk.

  He stared sharply back at her, his feet planted wide.

  “Well?” he asked. He was waiting for an explanation.

  She didn’t know what to say.

  “I...”

  “Don’t lie,” he told her. “You are considered a suspect in the disappearance of your sister, and you should not lie right now.”

  She felt like she could hardly breathe as she realized the implications, what this looked like.

  “This was not a motive,” she said slowly. “This was a mistake. There’s a big difference.”

  “I can see making a mistake like this,” Hawk said, sweeping his hand toward the pictures. “I can even see not wanting to tell me. But what I can’t see...and I mean this genuinely... I just can’t see how you could pretend to be utterly devastated by your sister’s disappearance when you’re having an affair with her husband.”

  “I’m not pretending,” she protested. “I am devastated. I’m terrified. I love my sister. What happened with Thad really had nothing to do with her. We’re not having an affair. And whatever it was, I can assure you it’s over.”

  “I’d beg to differ since Thad is her husband,” Hawk replied dryly. “I have to say...I didn’t expect this turn of events, and from you. You seemed more sincere.”

  “I am sincere,” Meg argued. “This right here... This is the worst of me. You haven’t seen me at my best.”

  “The worst is enough,” he said, and the disappointment in his eyes was unbearable.

  Meg physically flinched.

  “Now, I’ve got work to do. You should leave now.”

  Because he still suspected her. She dropped her head.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t.”

  He didn’t answer. He just turned away.

  When she had her hand on the door, he asked her one last question without turning around.

  “Is it really over?”

  “Yes. It was just one time.”

  He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. She just slipped out the apartment door in shame.

  She stood on the street in front of the building, stunned. She tried
to compose herself. Then she hailed a cab and went home to see her husband and son.

  * * *

  Hawk knelt on the living room floor and looked through a trunk that was next to the chair.

  Inside was a journal and more photos.

  It was clear that the amount of surveillance the PI had done for Gen was stunning. No wonder she’d had to pay him fifteen thousand. This was clear evidence to support a case of adultery, most certainly. But he wondered if this evidence was enough for someone to want to kill her. And if so, who?

  When Gen found out, did she decide to confront Meg at the hotel? Had things gotten out of hand? Or perhaps it had been Thad? Or the two of them together?

  He would check if Thad and Gen had any kind of prenup that included stipulations about adultery. Usually people didn’t have the foresight, but Thad was a lawyer.

  Hawk tried to ignore his disappointment in Meg. He didn’t have any right. He barely knew her.

  Yet, even still, it churned in his belly. His radar was usually spot-on. But surprisingly not in this instance. He’d almost felt protective over her, and now he felt ridiculous. He was too good of a detective to have fallen for this.

  Next, he went into the bedroom and found it neat and tidy, and minimal in its decoration. Just a bed, bedding and a few items of clothing in the closet. He noted the absence of her laptop. As a writer, it should have been here. And it wasn’t anywhere that he had found.

  There was a large painting on the wall.

  He stepped closer to examine it better. It was a weeping willow, bent in the wind and rain. Every single painting in the apartment was sad and soulful and full of emotion. The one in the kitchen looked slightly crazed. Hawk wondered if the artwork was a good indicator of her state of mind.

  Finding out your husband was having an affair with your sister would shock the sanest of people. He had no reason to think Genevieve was any different other than the excess of the massive collage.

  He noticed that the bedroom smelled faintly of vanilla; the source was on the nightstand, a thick vanilla candle, half-used.

 

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