Lying With Strangers

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Lying With Strangers Page 19

by Jonnie Jacobs


  Trapped, Chloe couldn’t walk away from the register. She couldn’t even turn her back to the door because another customer was waiting to be rung up.

  Maybe Diana wouldn’t see her. Or recognize her. Who studied the clerks when they entered a store anyway? People’s minds were usually on the items they came to buy.

  But not, clearly, a young boy’s. Chloe saw Jeremy tug at Diana’s sleeve and then point in Chloe’s direction. Diana pushed his hand down to his side. She must have told him not to point, because Jeremy looked contrite and lowered his head. Finally, Diana looked in Chloe’s direction herself, and after a moment, started toward the register.

  There’d been a steady stream of customers all afternoon, but now, as luck would have it, Chloe’s customer had gone and her line was empty. There was no way to avoid the encounter.

  “Chloe, what a surprise,” Diana said.

  “Yes,” Chloe agreed.

  “Do you work here? Of course you do. What a silly question.” Diana seemed as flustered as Chloe.

  Jeremy wasn’t daunted in the least. “I’m making a solar system,” he announced. “For school. We’re going to get paint and glitter and sequins and all kinds of cool stuff.”

  “Wow,” Chloe said. “That will be quite the solar system.”

  “The sun’s at the center, you know. It’s going to be a big yellow ball.” He turned to his mother. “Let’s cover it in cellophane. I want mine to be the best in the whole class.”

  “I’m sure it will be,” Chloe told him. “It sounds fantastic.”

  “How nice,” Diana said, “that you live so close to the store. You could hardly ask for a better commute.”

  Chloe frowned. “It’s not bad, I guess.”

  Now Diana looked perplexed. “You live right across the street, don’t you? I dropped you off at the apartment complex there when you were hurt.”

  The problem with a lie, Rose had often reminded the girls at the group home, was that it could always come back and bite you. Chloe had been telling so many lies lately, it wasn’t surprising one had done just that.

  “I don’t live there anymore,” Chloe explained. “My roommate moved out and I couldn’t afford the rent by myself.” Lie upon lie. Would she dig herself in so deep she’d forget which way was up?

  “So where did you move to?”

  “I’m, uh, kind of between places at the moment.” Chloe was too nervous to think quickly.

  Diana’s expression sharpened, as though Chloe had jarred some thought in her mind. “Well,” she said after a moment. “Good luck.”

  “Can you help us with the glitter?” Jeremy asked. “I bet you know which kind would be best.”

  “I’m sure we can figure it out ourselves,” Diana told him, tugging at his arm.

  “But Chloe works here. She’ll know.”

  “I have to stay at the register,” Chloe told him. “But get the stuff in the sprinkle bottles. It’s much easier to use.”

  “Good idea,” Diana said. “Easy is what we need.”

  “And get some purple,” Chloe added. “I saw a picture of the planets once and I was surprised they looked so purple. We’ve got some great new frosted markers on aisle 4A.”

  “Frosted. Cool.” Jeremy darted in the direction Chloe had pointed. Diana nodded a thanks, and followed him.

  Chloe breathed a sigh of relief.

  Velma, who had finally finished helping the bead woman, ambled back to the register, shaking her head. “Some people,” she muttered.

  Chloe laughed. “Better you than me.”

  “That woman and little boy are friends of yours?”

  “Not really.”

  “He’s a cute kid. I love the enthusiasm they have at that age.”

  “Yeah.” Maybe in another life, one where she’d grown up in a normal family, Chloe could have been a teacher. She liked that idea. Working with kids all day would be a lot more fun than waiting on short-tempered customers.

  *****

  Chloe asked Velma to take the register while she restocked the day’s returns. Mostly she wanted to avoid another conversation with Diana when she checked out. But Diana sought Chloe out in the aisles after she’d made her purchase.

  “This is probably a harebrained idea.” Diana took a breath. “I don’t know what kind of apartment you’re looking for or what your work schedule is, but I’m going back to work full-time and I need someone to help with Jeremy. Mostly in the afternoons. Maybe some evenings. I can offer room and board and a small salary.” The words had come in a rush and now Diana stopped, as though they’d taken the last of her breath.

  No way, Chloe thought. Work for the family of the man Trace had murdered? It was an insane idea. A bad, bad idea.

  She shook her head, backed away a step. She would have turned and run if she could.

  “I can be flexible about most everything but Jeremy’s schedule,” Diana continued. “You wouldn’t have to do heavy housecleaning or anything.”

  There were hundreds of reasons Chloe should say no. But she couldn’t help recalling the safe, comfortable feel of Diana’s house. The brief pleasure she’d felt walking the quiet streets of the neighborhood. The way Jeremy’s enthusiasm had a way of rubbing off on her.

  Besides, Chloe had no place else to go.

  Diana gave a self-conscious laugh. “Like I said, an off-the-wall idea. But let me give you my phone number, just in case.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “Oh.” Diana looked to be embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward situation. I have a bad habit of speaking before I think.”

  “I already have your number. What I meant was, yes. I’d like the job.” Chloe didn’t know she was going to accept until the words were out of her mouth.

  Diana looked as stunned as Chloe felt. “When can you start?” she asked. “I’m going to need someone fairly quickly.”

  “Tonight?”

  Chloe could hear Rose’s voice in her head. Think before you act. Impulsiveness leads to trouble.

  But Chloe was already in so much trouble, what did a little more matter?

  Chapter 27

  Diana tossed another pinch of oregano into the bubbling pot of tomato sauce, then dusted her hands on her apron. What had she done, inviting a stranger into her home like that? It had all happened so quickly. A crazy idea she should have known better than to voice. And amazingly Chloe had accepted. Right there on the spot. She’d even had a battered, old suitcase already packed and waiting in the back of the store.

  Before Diana knew what had hit her, Chloe was in the car heading home with them, chatting away with Jeremy like they were old friends.

  Was Chloe homeless? Is that why she’d had her suitcase with her? She certainly didn’t look it. No truly homeless person was that clean and neat. Chloe had spun some tale about staying in a friend’s apartment while she looked for a new place for herself, but that didn’t really explain what she’d been doing with her bag already packed.

  Diana hadn’t pressed the issue. Perhaps she should have. She recalled Emily’s asking if Chloe was some kind of nutcase. Diana had dismissed the question as typical Emily, pushing issues to the extreme. But what if her daughter had been right? What if Diana had made a terrible mistake? She hadn’t even asked for references. She was entrusting the care of her son to a woman she barely knew.

  The silver lining to this barrage of doubts was that they had temporarily driven all thoughts of Miranda Saxton and the investigator, Bernie Fusco, from Diana’s mind. And, to be honest, she was relieved to have the question of childcare settled. At least in the short run. If she needed to hire someone else down the road, she’d take her time and do it right.

  Chloe was right that moment seated next to Jeremy at the kitchen table, diligently, and with surprising creativity, helping him with his poster, showing far more patience than Diana would have. Diana knew she’d have hurried the project along, cutting corners and sometimes stepping in to do the work herself, simply to get
it done.

  Still, she was glad she had a week before she went to work full-time. She’d watch Chloe carefully. She wasn’t, she reminded herself, locked into anything.

  “What can I do to help?” Chloe asked, getting up from the table.

  “Is the poster finished?”

  “We have to wait for the glue to dry before we can go on.”

  A step Diana would have omitted. “You could set the table,” she told Chloe. “I guess we’ll eat in the dining room since the kitchen table’s being used.”

  “I could clear it,” Chloe offered quickly, as though Diana was finding fault.

  “No, it’s easier to leave things where they are.” She showed Chloe where the placemats and napkins were.

  “Your house is so nice,” Chloe said, folding the napkins neatly before placing them carefully on the left edge of the placemats.

  “It’s not very large,” Diana pointed out. She hadn’t thought through logistics of where Chloe would sleep until they’d arrived home. The only available bedroom was Emily’s, and Diana couldn’t in good conscience turn it over to Chloe. “I’m afraid things might be a bit tight for you. Do you think the den will be roomy enough?”

  “The den’s great,” Chloe said.

  “The day bed isn’t all that comfortable, I’m afraid.”

  “I’ve slept on worse.”

  Diana decided Chloe had to be Mary Poppins reincarnated. She was entirely too chipper and accommodating to be a normal eighteen-year-old.

  *****

  When dinner was done and Chloe had helped Diana with the dishes, she and Jeremy again tackled the poster—which was shaping up to be both large and sparkly, just as Jeremy wanted. Watching him painstakingly place individual sequin stars under Chloe’s guidance, Diana began to relax. About Chloe, at least.

  But with that worry no longer front and center, Diana’s mind churned with ever-growing questions about Roy. Bernie Fusco had mentioned a post office box. There was nothing Diana could do about that tonight. And nothing more she could learn about Miranda Saxton—unless . . .

  Now that Diana had hired a nanny, so to speak, she might as well take advantage of the fact. She usually took Jeremy along when she visited Allison and Len, but tonight she was glad he wouldn’t be within earshot.

  She picked up the phone. “Would it be okay if I stopped by for a bit?” she asked Allison.

  “Of course. Is something the matter?”

  “I don’t know.” Diana tried a sardonic laugh, but it came out flat. “That’s what I need you to tell me.”

  *****

  Allison had made coffee and set out plate of store-bought chocolate cookies on the kitchen table. “Where’s Jeremy?” she asked.

  “At home.”

  While Len pulled ice cream from the freezer and began dishing it out, with both Allison and Diana declining, Diana told them about her new job and about hiring Chloe.

  “What?” Allison was aghast. “That’s crazy. You don’t know anything about this girl.”

  “Jeremy seems to like her.”

  “Jeremy is seven years old,” Allison pointed out, pouring Diana a cup of coffee. “He doesn’t exactly have the experience or judgment to be making a decision like that. What’s the rush, anyway?”

  “We’re going to need money, and the job’s available now.”

  “Can’t you live off savings for a bit?” Len asked. “I should think Roy, of all people, would have put something away.”

  Diana didn’t want to get into their depleted accounts. “Our investment portfolio has suffered a bit over the last year. And the opportunity at the paper was too good to pass up.”

  Allison looked skeptical but Diana didn’t give her a chance to press the issue. She reached for her purse and withdrew the photo of Brian Riley she’d printed from the Internet. Her hand shook as she laid it on the table in front of Len and Diana.

  “This boy looks like Roy, don’t you think?” Diana asked.

  Len shrugged. “Sort of, I guess.”

  “I can see something of a resemblance,” Allison added. “Who is it?”

  “Do you remember when Senator Saxton’s daughter disappeared?”

  Len took a bite of ice cream. “Sure. It was all over the news.”

  “My parents went crazy,” Allison added. “My mom must have called me every night for a while, just to make sure I was okay. I was in Florida, for God’s sake. Nowhere near where it happened. Didn’t they recently find her body or something?”

  “A skull and some bones, I think.”

  Allison pushed the plate of cookies in Diana’s direction. “Why the sudden interest in Senator Saxton’s daughter? Is it for a column?”

  If only it were that simple. Diana pointed to the photo. “This is Brian Riley, the boy they considered a suspect.”

  Allison frowned. “What are you getting at? You think this Brian Riley was related to Roy?”

  “Maybe.” That was as far as Diana could bring herself to go at the moment.

  “What difference does it make?” Allison looked perplexed. She put a hand on top of Diana’s. “I know the funeral was only a few days ago and Roy’s death is really hard for you, but why make it harder than it has to be? Roy never mentioned this Brian, did he?”

  “No, he never did.”

  Len mouthed another spoonful of ice cream. “At best, the photo is an interesting coincidence, but I agree with Allison, so what? It’s not important.”

  The important thing was that both Allison and Len had seen the resemblance. It wasn’t all in Diana’s head. Her skin prickled and the back of her neck felt hot and sticky. She was afraid she’d be sick to her stomach.

  It might seem unimportant to them. But they didn’t know that Roy had hired a detective to follow the Miranda Saxton investigation. They didn’t know about the large amounts of cash he’d withdrawn from their accounts. They didn’t know that Roy wasn’t really Roy at all, that he’d stolen the identity from a dead teenager.

  They didn’t know what she knew and Diana was afraid to tell them.

  *****

  Chloe tucked the fluffy down comforter under her chin and scrunched into the billowy nest it made around her body. She had never slept in a bed as soft as this or with sheets that felt so silky. Like floating on a cloud. Diana had been wrong about the bed; it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

  She’d been right about the room, though. It was small and a bit cramped, especially with the daybed made up. She’d promised to clear more space, but Chloe liked it as it was. The walls were a pale gray-green. Books about law and history filled the bookshelf, and framed family photos dotted the walls. Above the small end table was a plaque with a child’s handprint cast in plaster. Chloe found the room cozy and reassuring, which was totally weird since everywhere she looked she was reminded of Diana’s husband—the man Trace had killed.

  She felt a prickle of uneasiness whenever she thought about that, so she tried not to. She’d learned that it was sometimes better to focus on where she was, not how she’d gotten there or where she’d been. For now, this was her room. And even if it was only for tonight, she was going to enjoy it.

  Except she wasn’t finding that easy to do. Everything about working for Diana and living here felt wrong. Or maybe it was simply that Chloe knew it should feel wrong, because on some level, being here felt really good. She liked Diana and Jeremy. She liked being part of a family, even if it was an illusion. She’d even liked making the poster with Jeremy and sharing his excitement about the project. Chloe had never been excited by anything when she was in school.

  “You’ll have fun in school, won’t you, Emma?” she asked her baby. “And I’ll have fun helping you with projects, and reading to you, and volunteering in the classroom.” Chloe’s mother had done none of those things, but Chloe would.

  She turned onto her side and watched moonlit shadows of bare branches from outside the window dance across the walls. Deep down, she knew she was doing a terrible thing by letting Diana think she
was someone she wasn’t. But maybe, Chloe thought as she drifted off to sleep, if she was super nice and super helpful, she could in some small way make up for her part in the terrible thing she’d done to them.

  Chapter 28

  Joel had fully intended to call his cousin Max right away. He wasn’t sure his dad’s memory was to be trusted, but if there was any chance that Max had actually gone to school with Brian Riley, Joel wanted to follow up. With a series of deadlines at the newspaper, however, and an unexpected trip to the emergency room with his father, who’d hit his head when he’d taken a fall getting out of bed one morning, it was several days before Joel found the time to make the call.

  He’d seen Max sporadically in recent years, although the two of them exchanged the obligatory Christmas cards filled with family updates and, in Max’s case, family photos. Max ran a plumbing supply company owned by his father-in-law and was apparently doing quite well for himself, but Joel had never felt they had much in common. Max had gone off to college before Joel entered kindergarten, and he’d returned to Littleton over the years only for brief holiday visits. With Max’s parents now living in Florida, the visits had stopped altogether.

  Still, Max greeted him like an old school chum, eagerly filling Joel in on his children’s most recent accomplishments and inquiring, finally, about the health of Joel’s father.

  “His mind comes and goes,” Joel said, putting an optimistic spin on things. “Physically, he’s doing fine. He fell the other day, but he’s okay now.”

  “That’s good to hear. I always liked your dad. The Alzheimer’s is a real shame.”

  Max talked on about an hour-long special on dementia research he’d seen recently, which then led to a rather lengthy account about his purchase of a large-screen television. Eventually Joel found an opportunity to ask about Brian Riley.

  “Wasn’t that something,” Max said, “finding that poor girl’s remains after all this time. I’d pretty much forgotten about her disappearance, but with it all over the news recently, I dug out some of the stuff I kept from back then to show the kids.”

 

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