Chapter 32

Laura

October

Theo is waiting in front of the office on Monday morning with a cinnamon latte. A peace offering, I gather, as we haven't spoken since that kiss at his house a few weeks back. He's been texting me, but I've been ignoring him.

I should've known he was lying about Cody. That he had some angle. How had I let him weasel his way into my life again? I should've listened to Mrs. McCormack. Some of the most poisonous things come in disguise.

At first, I thought I would put a stop to everything. But then I saw the figure in my new bank account. The memory of my empty art studio floated back to me.

Everything I do seems to fail. Even trying to help Cody had been a mistake. But it doesn't have to be that way. There's so much money. More than enough to open my own art studio again. Hire a marketing manager. Actually make it a success this time. I can come up with something to explain the money to Pete. A long-lost relative or that I won the lottery.

It's not like I can put it all back. Anyway, I'm good at this. And I won't lie, it feels fucking amazing. I finally understand Jack's obsessive dedication to building his company. Why he's worked so hard.

It isn't the money. Or, at least, not only the money. It's the success. The accomplishment. The validation. Isn't that what money is, a symbol of all that?

Theo begins pacing. He looks twitchy, like he hasn't slept. "Cody had a fall."

"Oh. Is he okay?" I keep my voice neutral.

"Yeah, but his sister needs that money."

"Keep your voice down." I pull Theo away from the rotating doors and down a little alley.

"I've found a care home that'll take him," Theo continues, "but we'll have to set up a regular payment plan."

"I don't know. I think we should press pause on this, Theo."

Panic flares in his eyes. I wonder why he's been lying to me. What he wants this money for. But I push the thought aside because it doesn't matter. He isn't getting it.

"Jack's assistant, Rose, almost caught me. I need to lay low for a bit."

"You can't back out now," Theo says, and it sounds like a warning, not a plea. "You can't do that to Cody's sister."

"Of course not. We'll get Cody that spot in the care home. Just give me a few weeks until Rose backs off. Then I'll start it up again."

I turn to leave, but Theo's fingers snake out, grasping my forearm, digging into my flesh like talons.

"You better not back out," he says again. This time, it's definitely a warning.

I shake him off. "Get your hands off me."

I storm away. But not before I notice my brother peering around the corner into the alley.

A few days later, when I get to work, Rose is riffling through my drawers.

"I'm looking for Mr. and Mrs. Chapman's contract," she says. "Did you forget to file it?"

Fear flaps in my chest. Christ. Talk about a lie becoming the truth. I've taken all my invoices for DIY Building Supply home, but what if I missed one? I can't let Rose find anything suspicious.

"Here, let me look."

I nudge Rose aside and flick through papers on my desk, then pull open a drawer. The contract is there, buried under a pile I haven't yet filed. "Here. Chapman." I give Rose a big smile. "Sorry about that."

She doesn't smile back. Just stares at me with her small, pale face, then whirls back over to her desk.

It's only when I sit down that I notice my hands are shaking.

Later, Mel calls, asking if I want to meet for lunch. The day has been tedious and slow. File. Type. Schedule meetings. Repeat. I jump at the chance to get out.

I walk to the Boathouse Café, which overlooks the lake and a small dock. The trees along the street are bursting into a riot of red and orange and yellow. It's chilly, a brisk October breeze skidding over the velvet-black lake. I'm glad I dug out my winter coat, a knee-length suede with luxurious, soft faux fur around the wrists and neck. Mel bought it for me for Christmas a few years ago, a gift I resisted but absolutely love.

The café is quiet, the summer tourists now gone. Mel greets me with a kiss on the cheek. "Love your coat."

"Love my bestie who gave it to me."

We share a smile as we slide into a window seat.

"Nancy's on her way, too," Mel says.

"Oh, good!" I say. "I haven't seen her in ages!"

I try to remember when the last time was. A month ago, at least. Nancy was going through a crisis. She'd called me sobbing. Maya had been brought in for questioning about a break-in at the sports store where she worked. I'd gone right over.

"I called a friend who's a lawyer," Nancy had said, eyes raw and red as we sat with coffees in the kitchen. "She told me their next step will be to get a warrant to search our house. If they find anything, they'll press charges. Maya could go to jail!"

"But she didn't do it, right?" I said.

"I want to think she didn't, but honestly? I don't know." Nancy gave a shaky little laugh. "It's weird. When your kids are young, you know everything about them. Who their friends are. What they like. What they don't like. They can't hide anything. Maya couldn't even play hide-and-seek without giggling and giving herself away. But now, she's older. She's pulling away. It feels like she's stepped behind a veil and I can't see her as clearly as I used to."

Nancy got up, opened a cupboard beneath the sink, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey hidden behind the cleaning products.

"I have to hide it from Dom." Nancy looked more exhausted than I'd ever seen her. "I think we need something stronger than coffee."

She poured healthy shots into our coffees and took a swig. "It doesn't help that I'm always working. I have to leave everything to Dom, and he's not exactly reliable.

"Maybe we can only ever know pieces of each other," she continued. "Even of those we love so much ."

She lowered her head to her hands and just sobbed then, and my heart broke for my friend.

Nancy's phone rang, and she wiped her eyes. "Sorry, I need to take this."

She was gone a long time. I eventually decided to go to the bathroom and head home.

Maya's room was the first door I passed on the way to the bathroom. The door was open a crack. I don't know what made me do it, but I stepped inside. The smell of old laundry and feet and strawberry ChapStick hit me like a slap. My eyes skated around, adjusting to the dim light, taking in the typical chaos of a teenager's room. The sliding door to the closet was wedged open with a bundle of clothes. I slid the door open farther with my toe.

Inside was a large suitcase, the lid open. Sports jerseys and hoodies and designer tennis shoes spilled out, the tags still attached. And nestled amid the clothes was something that made every nerve ending stand on edge.

A gun.

My whole body went rigid. I thought about Nancy sobbing with worry and Maya getting arrested, and I wanted to help. So I scooped it all into the suitcase, zipped it up, and wheeled it out to my minivan.

"She's had a hard time with Maya," Mel says now. "I thought she could use a break."

"Yeah. She told me Maya was the fall guy for the manager at the sports store stealing stuff."

"I don't know about that."

"You think Maya did it?"

"Maybe? But Nancy wouldn't see it, would she? Maya's her kid. Parents never see their kids' flaws."

"I'm sure she'd know if Maya did something like that."

Mel laughs, but it's flinty, hard. "Well, you of all people know how blind love can be."

I stiffen. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, Theo ?" Mel sets her menu down. "I saw him, you know. A few weeks ago."

"I did, too." I force myself to sound casual. "He's working as a plasterer for Jack."

"What?"

"Don't worry, he didn't ask me to help him get the job or anything."

Mel never liked Theo. She thought he was too sleek, too pretentious. That he was showy and grandiose. But that was what made him so intoxicating at the time. A shy, insecure girl getting the attention of someone as confident and self-assured as Theo was a dream come true.

Theo just thought Mel was a stone-cold bitch.

"Just be careful," Mel says. "You're too trusting, Laura, and Theo Moriarty is scum."

"You always said that."

"And I still believe it. Trust me. I worked with him. I should know."

I scan my memories, trying to remember when they worked together. "What are you talking about?"

Mel sips her water. "Sometimes I hooked him up with a friend I knew."

"Hooked him up? You mean ... with drugs?"

Mel shrugs.

I stare at her. "Wait. So that time you slashed Mandy Parsons's tires for her ‘fake' report about you dealing"—I put the word fake in air quotes—"it was true all along?"

"I couldn't let her get away with saying that. And it wasn't true. I just ... facilitated their connection."

"So it was true."

"It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now. I'm out of that world."

I rub my forehead, my mind spinning. "Jesus, Mel ... why? You never needed money."

Mel rolls her eyes. "Not everything is about money."

Spoken like a true rich person. If you don't have it, everything is about money.

"We all want to feel like we're good at something. Like we're worth something. I was good at it, so I did it."

Mel is still talking, but I've stopped listening. Because outside, I see somebody I recognize. She's half-hidden behind a tree, her arms crossed, eyes darting around like she's waiting for something. And then another familiar person strides into view.

"I have to use the bathroom," I announce.

I hurry out of the restaurant, down the stairs, to the back of the building. I peer around the corner at the dock.

I can just about hear their voices. What I can't figure out is how the hell Maya knows Theo.

"I don't have it," I hear her saying.

Theo replies, too low for me to hear, but I can make out Mikey and manager and sell . Whatever it is, it makes Maya mad.

"I got fired, you prick! There's nothing else! My mom took it."

Theo says something unintelligible.

"Yeah, even that. She didn't want the cops finding it."

Awareness trickles in, slow, and then all at once, like a slap to the face. Maya stole the stuff from the sports store to sell with Theo. Mikey, I remember now from Nancy, was the manager of the sports store. I remember the first day I saw Theo, he'd mentioned meeting a man who worked there. He must've roped them into another of his sleazy cons.

Theo grabs Maya's arm, like he grabbed mine earlier. Maya shakes him off.

"I'm out," she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

I duck back behind the building and hurry inside, thinking of the gun still in my minivan. I'd burned the jerseys, donated the shoes, but the gun was more difficult to get rid of. I couldn't keep it in the house around the girls, so I'd wrapped it in a blanket and hidden it in the back.

I won't need it, I tell myself. Still. Maybe it's time to move it to the front of my car. And it's definitely time to come up with plan B.

Trust isn't like a library book. You can't borrow it and then give it back. At least you shouldn't be able to.

I'm not stupid enough to trust Theo a third time.