Forty-One

I was trying to put it together. You can do a lot of thinking in a millisecond.

Last night, at some point before or after I'd been there, Bonnie had also been to Billy Finster's place. And whatever had happened, it had left her rattled, so rattled that when she'd gotten home she'd downed better than half a bottle of wine in less time than it takes to open a can of Bud Light.

She'd been on the verge of telling me what had happened. She hadn't been to see Marta. That much I knew. When she'd left the house, she'd clearly intended to go to the Finster place, and, having gone there, had done something that was, in her own words, very dumb. I wish there'd been time for her to spill the rest of it, because then I would have had a better idea what to say to Marta in this moment.

I had no idea why Bonnie had gone there or what had happened in that garage that left her totally freaked out.

Marta had a witness that put Bonnie's car at the scene. I couldn't think of any possible excuse Bonnie could provide that would be exculpatory. What could she say, other than possibly the truth? But how damning would the truth be, to her or to me?

I felt a need to protect Bonnie, to cover for her, even though I didn't know what act I might be covering for. My mind was racing, but not quickly enough. I needed another moment to come up with something.

Rachel, God bless her, bought me some time.

She strolled into the kitchen and her face went wide with a smile. "Aunt Marta!" she said, and threw her arms around her legs.

"Hey, kiddo," Marta said, leaning over to return the hug.

"Is your head all better?" she asked.

That made Marta smile, too. "Yeah, I'm all better in the head."

"Are you gonna have dinner with us?"

"No, honey. I just needed to talk to your mom and dad about something. But it's good to see you, sweetie."

Rachel seemed to understand that amounted to a dismissal. She gave Marta another squeeze to the thighs and went back to the family room as a familiar rumble from outside made the wineglasses tinkle in the cupboard. Marta seemed about to ask Bonnie what that was, but I had a statement to make.

"It was me," I said.

Marta cocked her head to one side. "What's that, Richard?"

"I was out last night, took Bonnie's car."

I know Bonnie wanted to ask me what the hell I was doing, but there was no way she could. Not now. I'd crossed that line and there was no going back now. And I was already second-guessing myself. What if Marta's witness had seen who was behind the wheel? If she had, Marta would catch me in a lie any second now.

"What were you doing in that neighborhood last night?" Marta asked.

"Following a car," I said.

Marta waited.

"I was coming along West Ave when this asshole in a Corvette cut me off. I try to be cool about these things, but, I don't know, it just pissed me off so much that I went after him. We were both heading east, and then he—I'm assuming it was a guy—made a hard right onto Utica and took off like a bat out of hell. I was going after him, but Bonnie's car's not exactly a sports car, and I lost him. I made a turn onto Wooster and pulled over for a second to decompress, you know?"

"Did you catch the license plate on the 'Vette?"

"No," I said. "But it was white. An older one, from the seventies or eighties, I'd guess."

"Why were you driving Bonnie's car instead of your own?" she asked.

"Come on, sis, he answered your question," Bonnie said.

"No, it's okay," I said. "We switch cars lots of times. And I couldn't find my keys right away and saw Bonnie's, so I grabbed them instead. It didn't really matter which car I took."

"What were you doing, going out at that hour?" Marta asked. "And in that part of town? It's nowhere near here."

I sighed and looked downward. "I didn't really want to get into this, but..."

Bonnie touched my arm. "You don't have to—"

"Might as well tell her," I said. A dramatic pause. "We'd had a fight."

"A fight?" Marta asked.

"About the boat."

Another cock of the head. "Go on."

"So, you know about the LeDrews suing me. As frivolous as the suit might seem, you have to take these things seriously, and I hadn't had it confirmed until today that the union would cover any legal costs."

I had to hope Marta wouldn't follow up on this, wouldn't learn that I'd been given this news yesterday.

"So I was going to sell the boat to our neighbor."

"Jack," Bonnie said, helping out.

"Right, Jack. He wanted to buy it and we'd agreed on ten thousand, but before we could make the deal final Bonnie went behind my back and canceled it."

"I didn't think it was right, or fair," Bonnie said. "And we all love the boat. But I shouldn't have canceled the arrangement they had. Not without talking to Richard about it first."

Go ahead and let Marta check that part of the story, I thought. Jack would confirm it.

"Anyway, I said a few things I shouldn't have. I know you understand better than most what I've been going through. The trauma, the, you know, aftereffects of what happened to me at the school. So I just walked out, went for a drive. I wandered all over Milford, and I don't even know if I realized where I was when that jerk cut me off. I was already so tense about everything that had happened, I snapped. I went after the car. It's a good thing I couldn't catch him. Not for his sake, but for mine. He'd probably have beat the crap out of me or, worse, shot me. You know how these road rage things can spiral out of control. So I guess I pulled over, calmed down, and then I came home."

"And pulled over by the Finster house," Marta said.

"I guess," I said. "I had no idea whose house it was."

"Did you get out of the car?" she asked.

I had a feeling this was a trick question. Had the witness seen anyone in the car or not? But Marta had only said that Bonnie's car had been spotted. Nothing about anyone being behind the wheel.

"Yes," I said. "At one point. Just to kind of walk things off."

"You see a guy walking his dog?"

"No," I said. "Is that who saw the car?"

Marta nodded. "Thought it seemed odd, the car sitting there. Made a note of the plate. And some lady next door saw a man watching the house earlier in the day."

I felt my chest tighten.

"But she didn't note the plate, wasn't good at identifying cars, and has cataracts. So she wasn't much help."

I relaxed only slightly. There was still the matter of Finster's call to me. If Marta knew about that, all these other lies would be for nothing.

I glanced at the wall clock.

"Have to be somewhere?" Marta asked.

"An event at the school later. It's okay, go on."

"When you stopped, did you see anything?" Marta asked.

"Like?"

"Any other cars speeding off? Did you hear a shot? People running? Anything at all out of the ordinary?"

I shook my head. "No."

Another pause, and then a quick nod. "Okay, then," Marta said. "I guess that explains it. When the report came back on that license plate, I have to tell you, it threw me for a loop. It's a hell of a coincidence."

"Coincidences happen," I said.

"I guess they do. Sorry for barging in here and causing you all this trouble. You mind saying goodbye to Rachel for me?"

"No problem," Bonnie said. "Let me see you out."

"Take care," I said, and watched as the two of them walked out of the kitchen.

I dropped into a chair. I'd broken out in a cold sweat. Had Marta bought it? And if she had, for how long?

A minute later, Bonnie came back into the kitchen, crossed her arms, leaned into the doorway, and looked at me.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

I had a question for her.

"What were you doing at Billy Finster's place?"