“Exactly. Nobody’s going to help.”
“What do we do, then?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Stop antagonizing Aidan, and hope he fades away.”
“Antagonizing? I almost get killed trying to get this maniac to lay off you, and you imply it’s my fault for antagonizing him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did. That’s what you meant, anyway.”
I could hear Jason moving around in the bedroom now, mere feet away. I needed to get off the phone ASAP. But I didn’t want to leave things like this with Lynn. Not only was she worried about me, but she honestly believed that Aidan had tried to run her off the road.
“Lynnie, I’m sorry. Please, don’t get upset. Let’s discuss this in person, okay?”
“That’s all I’m asking. When and where?”
“I’ll drive out there. I’ll be there by lunchtime.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then. And don’t you dare stand me up,” she said, and hung up.
I’d been planning to talk to Jason this morning about where the hell he’d been last night, and what was going on between him and Peter Mertz. Peter clearly wanted to have it out with Jason over something, and I was brought along to dinner to prevent that from happening. When the dinner ended, Jason took me home in an Uber, then claimed he needed to go deal with a crisis in his office. Maybe that was true, or maybe he was back with the Russian woman. When I tried to track his phone, it was off. I was dying to hash things out with him.
“Jason, we need to talk,” I said.
“I’ve got an Uber waiting downstairs, honey. Gotta run,” he said, and kissed my cheek.
“Wait one minute,” I said, grabbing his arm as he tried to pass by me to leave. “You owe me an explanation. Where were you last night until three o’clock in the morning? If you have any hope of saving this marriage, and convincing me you’re not having an affair, you’ll tell me the truth.”
He looked me in the eye. “That is the truth. Maybe you could tell last night that Peter is upset with me.”
“Yes. What was that about?”
“There’s a problem with one of my funds. A big problem. He referred me to the SEC for investigation.”
I gasped. “Criminal investigation?”
“I’m afraid so, honey. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear it. I’m going to hire a lawyer and clear my name. I’m sorry I haven’t told you until now. I didn’t want you to worry. I may be hard to reach in the next few days because I’m busy with this. I hope you’ll understand.”
“I’m so sorry I doubted you,” I said, and threw myself into Jason’s arms.
He pressed his lips to my hair. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. I promise. Now, I have to go.”
After Jason left, I was at loose ends, fearful that he was in trouble, knowing there wasn’t much I could do to help. The most productive use of my time would be to face up to my other big problem—Aidan. I would go see my sister and try to convince her to stay out of that situation. Lynn’s interference would only stir things up, and I had to make her understand that.
I went to the garage where we parked, three blocks from the apartment, to get my car.
It was rush hour, and I hadn’t called ahead. When I got to the garage, the line of customers waiting for their cars to be brought up from the depths was five deep, and there was only one valet on duty. He was the older of the two valets who worked there, soft-spoken and slow-moving, with a shiny, bald head. Jason sometimes drove himself to work in the morning, and when he did, he made sure to call the night before to ask that the car be brought out by the night valet. Otherwise, he said, don’t even bother, because the old guy on duty was slower than molasses. Turned out Jason was right. I waited and waited. Half an hour passed. Finally, I was the next customer. The valet took my car number and went off in search of my car. More time passed. I saw my white Escalade nosing up the ramp. It came to a stop in front of me. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stifle my cry. In the pearlescent paint of the passenger door, the words “DIE BITCH” had been scratched in deeply, presumably with a key.
The valet stepped tentatively out of the car, scratching his head.
“How did this happen?” I said, barely getting the words out, close to tears as I stared at my beautiful car in horror.
“I can’t say. Never seen nothing like it before in all the years I worked here,” he said.
I walked around, barely believing my eyes as I saw the same words scratched a second time on the driver’s side, with deep scoring scratches on the rear door and the tailgate.
“Who did this?” I asked, turning on the valet.
My voice shook with fear, because I knew who did it. Lynn’s visit to the bar had set Aidan off. He wasn’t just following me anymore, creepily confessing his adoration, begging to spend time with me, making ridiculous insinuations that my husband was a threat to me. The threat was Aidan himself. He’d turned to violence. He’d tried to run my sister off the road. And now, if this message was to be believed, he was coming for me.
“I don’t know. You got enemies? Maybe somebody’s mad at you, maybe it’s random. Either way, I didn’t see a thing.”
“Well, don’t try to tell me it didn’t happen here. This car was not like this when I brought it in.”
“I believe you,” the valet said.
“How would somebody even get in here to do this?” I asked.
“To be honest, that’s not hard. I’m the only one working days. At night, it’s only José. Somebody comes in when we’re down below getting a car, we don’t see them. They could hide, sneak around, do some damage. I told management we need more staff, but they don’t listen. You should complain.”
“Oh, I plan to. The least you could do is help me figure out who did this. Is there a surveillance camera?”
“The only camera we got is outside where the buzzer is. It shows who comes and goes, but only if they go legit. If they sneak in, you won’t see nothing on the tape. When José comes on duty at four, I’ll ask him if he saw anybody sketchy hanging around. If he knows something, I’ll give you a call. Otherwise, you can fill out the form to claim damages. The garage got insurance. They’ll pay to fix your paint, no worries.”
No worries. If only this were as simple as a new paint job.
I took the form and got behind the wheel, feeling queasy. I was completely overwhelmed at the thought of driving to Lynn’s house right now. This was her fault. I’d told her to stay out of it, but no. She had to go and provoke him. She couldn’t help herself; she was a hothead, like our father. I could only imagine how she’d react when she saw “DIE BITCH” scratched all over my car. She’d do something crazy and wind up getting us both killed.
I wouldn’t be like Lynn. I would stop and consider my next step.
In order to get the police to take me seriously, I needed proof. I’d blocked Aidan’s calls and ignored the ones that had managed to sneak through from other numbers. But I should call him now and do my best to trick him into confessing that he was stalking me. If I recorded the phone call and got him on tape admitting to anything—following me, following Lynn, trying to run her off the road, damaging my car—then I’d have proof. Would it be enough to arrest him? I wasn’t sure, but it was worth a shot.
I got out of the car and walked around it, photographing the damage with my phone. The pictures would help make my case to the police.
I handed my keys back to the valet.
“I changed my mind. I’m not taking the car out now. I’ll call when I want it.”
And I walked back to my apartment, looking over my shoulder every step of the way, terrified of seeing him behind me.
35
Caroline hadn’t returned Aidan’s calls, even after he left a message explaining that she and her daughter were in danger. She’d told her sister that she’d call the police if Aidan came anywhere near her. He wanted to believe the sister was lying. But he had to face the possibility that she wasn’t, that som
ething had gone very wrong in his relationship with Caroline. Jason Stark had gotten to her somehow. The image of the two of them kissing outside that restaurant haunted him. It shook his faith. He felt her slipping away, and he couldn’t stand it. He had to do something dramatic to bring her back to him.
He decided to approach Hannah Stark and offer his protection in some way. Or maybe wile his way into her confidence enough that he could gauge whether she was in any danger. How much did she know about her father’s secret life? Was her dorm secure? Was she a partier, or a druggie, with shady connections of her own? He had to get close to her to find out.
But how could he do that without setting off alarm bells? Hannah might recognize him from the restaurant the other night, decide he was a stalker and call the police. He could try to stop her from doing that by telling her the truth. But how would that work? Just come right out and say that he was involved with her mother and had followed her father because he was worried Jason Stark was dangerous? First off, he couldn’t tell her about his relationship with Caroline. And second, she’d never believe him anyway. It sounded bizarre even to Aidan. No, he’d have to pretend to be a stranger and arrange to meet her by happenstance. Strike up a conversation, try to gain her confidence. As for their encounter in the restaurant, he’d have to hope that she didn’t remember. People’s eyes passed over the faces of waiters and delivery boys and checkout clerks. They were part of the scenery. A rich girl like Hannah wouldn’t register the face of the guy who poured her water at a restaurant. And if, somehow, she did, he’d pass it off as coincidence.
Aidan knew what Caroline’s daughter looked like. He’d seen Hannah Stark at the restaurant. He had a photo of her that clearly showed her face, lifted from the camera roll on Caroline’s iPhone. But it turned out that finding one particular girl on a campus as big as Stony Brook, even if you knew what she looked like, was a bigger challenge than he’d imagined. Uploading the campus map to his phone told him nothing about where to find Hannah. He didn’t know which dorm she lived in and didn’t know his way around. He couldn’t go up to someone and ask without risking getting noticed by campus security. Aidan stood out because of his age. Even with his youthful face, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, he was pushing it to pass for a student. He’d never been to college himself, and he felt like an impostor. The place bustled. Space-age modern buildings, Asian kids with expensive backpacks hurrying along the wide paths like they were going someplace important. Aidan didn’t belong. They’d know, they’d smell it on him. He’d get himself in trouble.
He wandered and tried to blend in, keeping his eyes peeled. He sat on a bench, looking at her photo on his phone. The paths were empty now. Everyone was in class. He would need to get inside the buildings in order to have any hope of finding her. But which building, and how? He walked up to the nearest one, glanced around, tried the door. It was locked. The map said it was a dorm. He’d better hope other buildings were open, or his brilliant plan had failed before it could get off the ground.
He drifted across the campus, crossing his arms over his sweatshirt against the wind, which was picking up. Dark clouds were blowing in. Suddenly the paths were full of students changing classes. His hopes lifted, till he realized that half the girls looked like Hannah. Eliminate the Asian ones, the black girls, the blondes, the heavy ones, the skinny ones—and what do you get? A lot of girls with long brown hair, average build, pleasant face, jeans and sweater, boots and backpack. A couple were dead ringers, to the point that he checked their faces against the photo, only to see that he’d remembered wrong.
After a couple of hours of nothing, he was cold, hungry, and frustrated. The weather had taken a serious turn for the worse, like it was threatening to storm, hard. He started telling himself he should quit while he was ahead, get out before the rain hit, or at least before some interfering employee recognized him for the vagrant he was and called the cops. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave empty-handed. This girl was his ticket to Caroline, to his future. Quitters never win, right, and winners never quit? His dad used to say that, probably because he thought of Aidan as a quitter. Well, he wasn’t quitting this time. He wanted Caroline too damn much for that. His hands were going numb from the chill, so he followed a wave of kids into a campus coffee shop, looking to get out of the wind. He’d wring a couple more hours out of this venture, hoping for his luck to change.
Wouldn’t you know, she was right there, sitting at a corner table with a latte and a laptop open in front of her. He didn’t even need to check his phone to make sure. It was definitely her.
He got in line and paid for yet another stupid-expensive coffee drink that he didn’t even want. The whole time his mind was working, trying to figure out his approach. Once the drink was in his hand, instinct took over. The place was full. The seat next to Hannah was empty. She was a girl. Girls liked him. He walked up to her and smiled, like she was anyone.
“Hey, mind if I sit here?”
Her eyes flicked up tentatively. “No, go ahead,” she said, and looked down again, blushing.
All right, she was shy. This would be easy. Piece of cake. He almost felt bad, lying to her. He reminded himself that he was here to help, and he shouldn’t let himself feel intimidated. Hannah Stark wasn’t better than him. Everything she possessed had been handed to her on a silver platter. This impressive campus. The freedom to sit around a coffee shop with a four-buck latte and a two-grand MacBook Pro in front of her in the middle of the afternoon. Not because she worked nights like he did, but because she didn’t work at all. At Hannah’s age, Aidan was—well, at her age, he was locked up, that was the ugly truth. But later, when he got out, he’d swabbed floors and cleaned grease off the grill at the diner while waiting patiently for a promotion to waiting tables.
It wouldn’t be smart to seem overeager. That would only creep her out and chase her away. He looked at his phone, sipped his coffee, and waited for her to notice him.
Ten minutes had passed, and she still hadn’t spoken to him. Either she was shy, or else she thought he was a lowlife and had no intention of speaking to him. Didn’t really matter which. The place was clearing out. She was starting to gather her things. It must be coming up on time for the next class. He had to make his move.
“Uh, excuse me, miss. Do you go to school here?” he asked.
She looked at him like, Duh, why else would I be sitting here?
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “Don’t you?”
“I don’t.”
“You’re not a student here? Because you look really familiar.”
“You look familiar, too. Maybe we met in a past life.”
She laughed. A positive sign.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m here for a tour. Thinking about coming here next year.”
Her brows knit skeptically. “I thought I saw an email that they cancelled the tours today, because of the storm that’s coming.”
Aidan thought quickly. “Yeah, but I didn’t get the message in time, so I drove all the way out here for nothing. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your studying. It’s just, if I could ask you a few questions, I could maybe get something out of this trip.”
“Sure. But wait, are you in high school? You don’t look like it.”
“No. I’m a vet. Pulled two tours in Afghanistan. Now Uncle Sam’s gonna send me to college on the GI Bill. Law school, too, or even medical school if I want. I’m here checking this place out, wondering if it would be a good fit for someone like me. Someone who’s been around, seen things. You know?”
He had her interested now. She sat up straight, closed her computer, played with her hair.
“I’m Aidan, by the way.”
He held out his hand. She shook it awkwardly. Her hand was warm and slightly damp.
“Hannah,” she said, leaning closer and lowering her voice. “Honestly, I don’t know if this would be the right place for you. Everyone here is super boring. And it’s kind of a commuter school. Dead on the weekends.”<
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“Really? What are you doing here, then? You don’t seem boring.”
She colored. “Really? Thanks. The thing is, I haven’t made many friends yet. People are cold. They keep to themselves, you know?”
“I do know. That’s why I miss the military. The closeness, the solidarity. I’ve felt really alone since I got out.”
He looked off into the far distance, putting on his best damaged-young-man-who-needs-rescuing expression.
“I can’t even imagine,” she said. “I’ve barely been anywhere outside New York. Just to Florida a few times to visit my aunt, because she goes there in the winter, and I’m super close to her.”
“That must be nice.”
“It’s really nice. We hang out and do girl stuff. You’d probably think it’s boring, since you’re used to more excitement. What was it like, being in Afghanistan?”
There was an announcement that the café would close early, in half an hour, because of the storm. But they stayed and talked as the place emptied out around them. He regaled her with war stories, convincing ones, borrowed from tales he’d heard Mike Castro tell during long nights at the bar, after he’d had a few. Mike was one of Tommy’s guys, and he’d had a tough war, but Aidan didn’t see any reason not to profit from that. He’d used Mike’s stories on women before, often enough to have perfected the telling of them. He knew the right note to strike. Be humble. Don’t be a hero. Au contraire, the hero was your buddy who caught the IED. That weighed on a man, watching his best friend make the ultimate sacrifice. He managed to seem brave and heroic, but wise and sad at the same time. It was the perfect recipe to convince the girl to take him into her confidence. Eventually, he started asking her the questions that weighed on his mind, and she answered willingly.
“What are your parents like? Are they still together? Are they happy?” he asked.
“They used to be so happy together. I don’t know what went wrong. They split up recently, but now they’re back together, and I can’t tell if it’s for real.”
“They’re back together?” he said, and his throat tightened, so the words came out hoarse. The thing he feared was true.
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