Someone Knows

by Lisa Scottoline

  It wouldn’t end until the day she died, too.

  CHAPTER 50

  Larry Rucci

  Are you sure Allie’s not there?” Larry asked, confused, the phone to his ear. He was trying to reach his wife to tell her he’d been called out of town. She was supposed to be meeting with a special ed lawyer, Jeff Sherrod, in King of Prussia. Larry knew Jeff, so he’d called Jeff’s office, but evidently Allie wasn’t there.

  “Totally sure,” answered Jeff’s secretary, Gloria. “Jeff’s on vacation in Hawaii. I don’t have Allie or anybody else scheduled for today.”

  “I swear she said she had a meeting with him this morning.”

  “You must’ve misheard.”

  “Right,” Larry said, relieved to arrive at a conclusion that saved face. “Okay, thanks, Gloria.”

  “Have a good day.”

  “You, too, goodbye.” Larry ended the call. He’d called Allie three times, but no answer. He hadn’t bothered leaving a message because she never listened to them. He’d texted her, too, but no text back. It was odd, but not that odd. Allie could be so remote, and Larry was coming to the reluctant conclusion that his marriage sucked.

  Larry’s gaze wandered restlessly around his office, in a corner with a prestige location on the twenty-third floor, with a great view, indirect light, diplomas, plaques, and awards, and photos of him glad-handing every CEO, VP, CFO, COO, or GC in a variety of target-rich environments like shareholder conferences, CLE seminars, and meetings. Larry loved connecting with people. It brought in business, and felt natural and good. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t connect with Allie, and he was her husband.

  He eyed the Philly skyline, with its mirrored spikes and shiny ziggurats piercing a cloudy gray sky. He was supposed to grab a flight to Detroit because a client needed hand-holding, and nobody held hands like Larry. Everyone at Dichter & O’Reilly said so, and he was on his way to becoming department head. He was well-liked, but more than that, he tried. He tried the most with Allie, despite everything she did to push him away, to distance him, in yet another phrase of their marriage counselor’s. They quoted her like the Bible now.

  He got up, gathered his laptop, and grabbed some fresh legal pads. He shoved them into his logo messenger bag, then took a bunch of pens because he would lose five for every one. The only pen he ever managed to hold on to was the gold Cartier pen Allie had given him for his last birthday. He had an hour and a half to make his flight, and it would take twenty minutes to the airport from Center City, more when it was starting to drizzle, like now.

  He shouldered his messenger bag and left his office, waving to his secretary. “Monica, will I make the flight?”

  “Not this time. Did you reach Allie?”

  “No, bye.” Larry kept going, hiding his surprise. He hadn’t realized that Monica had overheard him. He wondered how many times she’d asked him the same question over the years. His work wife was more available than his real wife. It was beginning to exhaust even him.

  Larry headed down the hallway, troubled. He kept a professional smile in place, nodding at the associates as he passed them, making a point of using their first names, a salesman’s habit. He’d sold knives, vacuum cleaners, and insurance to pay for college and law school. Now he sold the law, the firm, and himself, and everybody bought except the buyer he wanted the most. His own wife.

  Larry caught sight of his outline in the stainless steel of the elevator doors. His was indistinct, blurry even to himself. His eyes looked like dark holes in a skull. His black curls piled on his head like a poodle. Allie always said at least you’re my poodle, an unfortunate turn of phrase in retrospect. He was reasonably fit in his gray suit with his fancy silk tie, and he’d trimmed down since he met Allie. She never ate much because of her stomach issues, so the duration of their meals never matched. He’d lost forty-seven pounds, thinking that would make her happy, more attracted to him, maybe he wouldn’t have to reach for her all the damn time, but that hadn’t helped, either.

  The elevator door slid open, and Larry climbed inside, greeting the associates he knew, hey, Josh, how’s the new puppy, good, good, yes, housebreaking is tough. He put his head down after he said his hellos, wondering if Allie was having an affair. It didn’t seem likely, because she was so absorbed in work and not the sexually freewheeling type. Still she had plenty of opportunities and was undeniably attractive, with pretty blue eyes, thick wavy hair, a great body, and an even greater smile, even if it had to be coaxed out of her, like the sun breaking through an Allie-cloud. Larry always tried to make her laugh, the court jester of husbands.

  Larry’s thoughts brewed as the elevator descended. Their marriage counselor had said he was codependent. Maybe so, but he thought husbands were supposed to be codependent. His father always told him, happy wife, happy life, and Larry believed him. Wasn’t that the exact definition of codependency? Larry was trying to have a happy wife and a happy life. Why was it so damn hard? He was a good husband. A good provider. Fun to be with. Everybody loved him. He never cheated, not once. Thought about it, but didn’t do it. Frankly, women didn’t think of him that way. He was friend-zoned until he became husband material. He sensed it was because of his weight, and even after he got thin, he acted like a fat guy. He thought like a fat guy. Women could smell it, and it wasn’t sexy. He didn’t mind. He loved his wife and his job. That was his life, until they’d have kids.

  He stepped off the elevator, crossing the busy lobby, waiting on his way to the exit door, nodding hellos to everybody on the way out, but no first names or small talk downstairs, everybody was in a hurry, rushing out to quick lunches. He was thinking of his parents, who had the greatest marriage ever, the two of them from Queens, both Abruzzese from Chieti, so alike they could’ve been related. The family joke was they probably were, since he had two aunts who married two brothers.

  He pushed through the glass exit doors and stepped outside to noontime rush in Center City. Walnut Street was only wide enough for colonial traffic, so it clogged easily. He hoped he could get a cab, but it wasn’t looking good. Alternatively he could walk to 30th Street and take the airport train, but he was cutting it close. He stuck his hand out but there were no cabs in sight, and it was drizzling.

  Larry realized he’d forgotten his umbrella, preoccupied. He was always running his cases, firm business, and Allie in the back of his mind, especially when she wouldn’t return his calls. He always worried that something bad could’ve happened, because bad things happened. Not to him, because the Rucci family had the best luck on the planet. His mother won the lottery all the time, only hundred dollar increments, but still. And when the Ruccis were running late, the train would be delayed, the same with planes. Larry believed that the flight to Detroit would be delayed because things usually went his way. Allie never felt that way because her sister, Jill, had died, and it had really affected her. They talked about it in therapy all the time.

  He kept his arm out, hoping to get a cab uptown, and his cell phone rang in his pocket. He kept one hand stuck out while he took his phone from his pocket with his other hand, glancing at the screen. ALLIE, it read. “Hi,” he said, picking up.

  “Hey, how are you? I see I missed your calls. I was in a meeting.”

  “Oh, with Jeff?” Larry asked, taking a flier. He wanted to see what she would say. If she was lying to him or if he was mistaken, which was possible.

  “Yes, he says hi. We’re talking settlement, which is great.”

  Larry felt a wrench in his chest. She was lying. He swallowed hard, his arm stuck out like an idiot, trying to flag down a cab that wasn’t coming. The drizzle turned to rain.

  “I’m in the car now. I thought I’d pick up some groceries out here. The parking is easier. Anyway, I gotta go. What did you call about?”

  “Where are you, really?” Larry asked directly.

  “I told you, I’m driving in the subs.”

  “No, you’re not. I know you’re not. I spoke to Jeff’s secretary. He�
��s on vacation.” Larry couldn’t stop himself now, even if he wanted to. The truth was out, and he was speaking from his heart. “Allie, are you having an affair?”

  The line went silent.

  “You’re having an affair?” Larry repeated, shocked.

  “No.”

  “Then where are you? Why are you lying to me? Why can I never reach you? What is it with you?” Larry felt wetness in his eyes and tilted his head down, hiding his face. He wasn’t supposed to be crying on the streets of Center City. He was a litigator with a logo messenger bag.

  “I can’t explain now, I’m driving.”

  But Larry knew he’d caught her in a lie. “What’s the matter with us? Why aren’t you happy? Why aren’t you ever going to be happy, no matter what I do? Allie, I’m miserable, I’m telling you now. Miserable. I’m doing the counseling, I’m trying everything, I fight with i-words, I’m trying to reach you, but I give up. I give up. It’s not supposed to be this hard.” Larry’s throat thickened. “I think we should get a divorce. I think I need a divorce. I’m going to Detroit. I’m going to be there a week. When I come home, I’ll move out.”

  “Larry, no, please, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. I want a divorce.” Larry confirmed the truth of the words as he said them. He had to give up on happy wife, happy life. He had to make himself happy. He couldn’t be happy loving somebody who never loved him back. Who wouldn’t even tell him the truth.

  “Larry, you don’t mean this.”

  “I’m tired of chasing you, I’m tired of trying to get you interested, keep you interested. I don’t know what I don’t have that you want, but I’m done. I love you, honey, but I’m done.” Larry held his breath to see what Allie would say, hoping she would beg him to reconsider. He’d never said divorce before because he hadn’t realized how strongly he felt, but he felt it strongly, so strongly that he didn’t even bother to flag down an empty cab three lines of traffic away.

  “Larry, I’m sorry, I want to talk about this, but I can’t right now—”

  “Is that it? Is that all you got, babe? Seriously? Do you know how woefully inadequate that is? You can’t talk—”

  “But I really can’t—”

  “Then neither can I!” Larry hung up, angry. Tears blurred his vision, but Allie hadn’t been crying at all. She never cried unless she was talking about Jill. She never even cried in therapy, where he blubbered like a baby. He was sick of having emotions for them both.

  The rain fell hard, spattering his jacket. The cab was pulling over, and he hurried across the street, flagging it down. He still had a chance to make the flight.

  Larry Rucci was a lucky guy.

  He just didn’t feel like one right now.

  CHAPTER 51

  Allie Garvey

  Allie hung up, bursting into tears. A sob hiccupped from her lips. Larry had never said divorce before. Her marriage was really ending. It broke her heart. She couldn’t believe it. He’d sounded so fed up, so sick of her. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t deserve him. Marriage counseling hadn’t worked, and the fucked-up girl had become a wife with issues. Stomach issues, anxiety issues, intimacy issues. She’d lied to him about where she was because she hadn’t been able to tell him about David.

  Allie wiped her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Her nose filled with mucus. She gripped the steering wheel, fighting for emotional control. She was following Julian in his gray Mercedes, and they were almost there, where he’d said they’d meet Sasha. She passed a sign that read BAKERTON NATURE PRESERVE, DONATED BY JULIAN BROWNE LAND MANAGEMENT, in front of a grassy pasture surrounded by a jogging path. There was a parking lot next to the street, and Julian steered into it and parked under a tree.

  Allie fumbled in her purse for a Kleenex, wiped her eyes, and willed herself to stop crying. She turned in to the lot and spotted Sasha sitting on a park bench next to a tan car, smoking. Allie blew her nose, parked, and took a moment to compose herself. She couldn’t get out of the car like this. She cleared her throat and checked her bloodshot eyes in the rearview. She looked like a wreck, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She got out of the car.

  “You okay, Allie?” Julian emerged from the Mercedes with a concerned frown.

  “Yes, thanks.” Allie sniffled.

  “Right.” Julian patted her on the back. “I miss him, too.”

  “Thanks.” Allie blew her nose, realizing that Julian thought she was crying because of David.

  “Here, look around. There’s nothing as restorative to the soul as nature.” Julian gestured around the preserve. “It’s pretty here, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “My company placed this parcel under the conservation easement, and we opened it to the public in May. It’s our mission to preserve open space.” Julian slid a business card from his wallet and handed it to her with a smile.

  “That’s nice.” Allie read the card, though she had known about Julian’s company from Facebook.

  “Come on, let’s sit down.” Julian touched Allie’s elbow.

  “Hi, Sasha.” Allie forced a smile, and Sasha smiled back.

  “Hey, Allie. Good to see you, and don’t let Julian tell you he’s anything but a ruthless businessman, bent on world domination.”

  “Very funny.” Julian sat down next to Sasha, smiling. Then it faded. “Well, these are terrible circumstances in which to see you again. It’s a damn shame that David’s gone.”

  “I know.” Allie felt her emotions well up again, though she controlled them. She had to focus. This would be her one and only chance to talk to them. “It’s awful.”

  “Just awful.” Sasha picked a piece of tobacco from her lower lip, without marring her neutral gloss. “So, Allie, what did you grow up to be?”

  “I’m a child advocate.” Allie wanted to talk about David, the funeral, and Kyle, but she held fire for now.

  “What’s that?”

  “I help kids with special needs get the programming they need in school. The parents hire me, and I know special ed law and how to navigate it.”

  “So are you a lawyer?”

  “No, but I work with the special education lawyers on behalf of the kids.” Allie realized there was no room on the bench for her, so she remained standing, still the outsider with the cool kids. “How about you, Sasha? What do you do?”

  “Publicity in the fashion industry, I freelance. I started with an internship at Fendi in Milan and did some modeling there and in Rome. I just got back from Grasse, for a piece about the fragrance business. I go to Paris tomorrow, then on to Nice.” Sasha smiled in a pat way. “I love it, and you learn so much from travel. It opens your eyes. Americans need to travel more.”

  “Wow,” Allie said, though up close, she could see that Sasha had changed. She was beautiful, but seemed brittle, more world-weary than world traveler. It didn’t show on Facebook, but in person, that happy, confident spark Sasha used to have was gone. Sasha had been salutatorian, headed for law school like her mother, but she’d dropped out of college. Allie guessed it was because of Kyle, no matter what Sasha said now.

  “Anyway, Allie.” Julian cleared his throat, as if he were starting a business meeting. “It was good to see you at David’s funeral. Sasha happened to be in town. I didn’t expect that shit show with the boyfriend.”

  “Awkward.” Sasha blew out a cone of smoke, which smelled unusually acrid, like French cigarettes.

  “Did you guys know David was gay?” Allie asked.

  “I didn’t.” Julian reached over to Sasha, and without his asking, she handed him her cigarette and he took a puff.

  “Me, either.”

  “Julian, did you stay friends with David, afterward?” Allie didn’t explain what she meant by afterward. They knew.

  “No. Different schools, all that.” Julian took another drag on the cigarette. “We never spoke, and neither did Sasha and I. It was for the best. It’s why everything turned out fine.”

  “You think everyt
hing turned out fine?” Allie asked, taken aback.

  “Of course, don’t you? It’s all good, right?”

  “Totally.” Sasha tilted her chin upward. “Allie, don’t you think so? We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I think we did something wrong,” Allie shot back, incredulous. “We killed Kyle.”

  Julian’s eyes flared, and he frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “What are you talking about? How did a bullet get in the gun?”

  “I have no idea.” Julian shook his head. “I didn’t know the gun was loaded. All I know is I didn’t load it and neither did Sasha.”

  Sasha nodded.

  Allie thought they might be crazy. Or lying. Or both. “Then what happened? If you didn’t load the gun, who did?”

  “I have no idea.” Julian shrugged in his fancy suit, the padded shoulders shifting up and down. “Anything is possible. It was an old gun buried in the ground. Anybody could have found it. Maybe the owner of the gun came back and loaded it.”

  “Possible,” Sasha chimed in. “Or some other kids found it and loaded it. They could have known about it before we did, for that matter.”

  “Really, guys?” Allie eyed them, not disguising her skepticism. “On the same day we agreed to play that stupid prank?”

  “Whatever, I didn’t load it.” Julian’s manner remained businesslike. “And you know what, David could have.”

  Allie glared at him. “Why would he?”

  “He was the only one of us who knew about guns, remember? His uncle had handguns and rifles. He taught us how to load the gun.”

  Sasha sucked on her cigarette. “I remember that, too.”

  Allie wasn’t having any. “David didn’t have any reason to want Kyle dead. He only met him the night before.”

  Julian nodded. “What if he had a crush on Kyle? David got married and had a boyfriend, too. He was obviously conflicted about his sexuality. It’s possible that David had feelings for Kyle and decided to kill those feelings. Then what if he felt guilty about it, all this time? And that’s why he killed himself.”