Keep Them Close(12)

The transmitter on the dash is squawking and belching out communications between troopers and dispatch. “This is 2101 responding to an 810 at a Holiday Inn off Exit 340.” “We have a possible 2410 at mile marker 311, a Ford Explorer…”

Through the rear passenger window, I strain to look at the nearby mile marker, a narrow, dark green vertical sign attached to a thin rusty post off the shoulder. The marker reads 320.

My phone buzzes a text from Allison: Everything ok?

Before I can respond, the transmitter squawks again.

“Dispatch, this is 3277. We have a 2014 at mile marker 320.”

Mile marker 320. That would be me.

I erase the message I was about to send.

In its place, I type, That depends on what a 2014 is.





9


Allison

“This is a nightmare.” I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the elevator railing until my hand hurts. This can’t be happening. “I need a plan, I need a plan—”

“Just hold on.” Vivian puts her hand on my shoulder as we ride down to the parking garage of our office building. “Tell me again—everything you know.”

I blow out a breath, trying to calm myself. “We only talked briefly. He’s under arrest. Troopers found a large bag of Oxy in the trunk of Luke’s car. Or correction—not Luke’s car. His friend’s car. Trinity’s car. I just—I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t, either,” says Viv. “Luke would never—”

“Oh my God—Luke would never be involved with anything like that. Oxycodone? No, this is Trinity. Or more to the point, her brother, Max. He has a sheet. Simple possession, possession with intent. God, I knew she was bad news. I told Luke she was bad news.”

The elevator stops. The doors part into the underground parking garage. By instinct, by the understood discretion of two career attorneys, we go silent. Buzzing, my thoughts intersecting like a laser show, my insides hollowed out with dread, I follow Vivian on shaky legs through the dim garage, the smell of oil, the echo of our footsteps, the exaggerated squeal of tires several aisles over.

With a beep-beep of her remote and the clank of unlocking doors, we jump into Vivian’s new car, an Audi SUV she bought herself after landing this job at McKenna Sable following a decade as a public servant.

I try to keep calm, think rationally. But this thing with Luke—after the problems I’m having with Finley, and now the congressman’s trial around the corner—

One disaster at a time, I remind myself.

Inside the car, Vivian turns to me. “Tell me about this Trinity.”

“Besides the fact that he’s smitten with her? Not that she returned the feeling.” I sigh, trying to keep some semblance of composure. “Luke met Trinity at the last Chicago Marathon, I think it was in October. So, like, four months ago. He flipped over her. But she didn’t want a relationship. They’re just friends, I guess. But close friends.”

“And why is she bad news?”

“Well. I wasn’t sure she was bad news. But I was concerned. I told Luke that. Her brother has two criminal convictions for drug dealing. He’s supposedly clean now, but you know how that goes. And Trinity runs a gym and fitness studio.”

Vivian nods with a knowing glance. “Common front for drug trafficking.”

“Exactly.” I wave a hand. “And she drives down to Olivet Nazarene University to see her brother on Mondays.”

“On Mondays?”

“Yeah. Apparently, it’s her only day off. But you see what I’m saying.”

Vivian thinks it over. “Could be nothing, of course. But traffickers like to use the roads during the weekdays more than weekends. Less police patrol. Yeah,” she agrees, “it could be nothing, but there are definitely some red flags there.”

“I wasn’t accusing her of being a drug dealer,” I say. “All I told Luke was ‘Be careful.’ But Luke being Luke, he took it as me telling him what to do, to ditch a woman he liked.”

“Okay, so—”

“And then there’s the documentary,” I say.

“The documentary?”

“Trinity is doing a story on Luke. Y’know, Luke the childhood superstar, then the tragic car accident, now his success as a coach—”

“Like the New York Times article.”

“Yeah, but more in-depth, I guess.” I shake my head. “I don’t know—I’ve just had the feeling that she’s using him. And he’s letting her.”

Viv starts up the vehicle. “So why was Luke driving the car today?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “His team was supposed to have a scrimmage with Benedictine. Getting ready for the season to start. It must have been canceled. He said he was doing a favor for Trinity.” I moan, gripping my hair like I’m trying to pull it out. “He just took his team to the College World Series. He’s one of the hottest baseball coaches in the country. And now this. This will—this will ruin everything he’s—”

“Hey, hey, c’mon, lady.” Vivian lightly whacks my arm as she pulls clear of the parking garage into sunlight. “Look, we have a very viable theory here. He didn’t know the drugs were in the car. And Trinity, and her brother, are more than plausible alternative suspects. This is a constructive possession case, and sounds like not a very strong one.”