This Story Might Save Your Life(39)

Benny Abbott


Day Two

I tear over the hill in my Prius to find Luna’s already let herself in. A tidal wave of hope passes over me as I slam on the brakes and sprint through the gate. Luna would’ve waited if there was a stranger inside.

I don’t knock. Swinging open the door, I call, “Joy? Xander?”

No one answers, so I hurry toward the kitchen, where I run into a wall. The wall screams and drops something. “What the hell?”

It’s Mallory. Quinn stands behind her with a stack of rags.

“I thought…” I pant. “It was you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Luna saw someone through the window.” I press my palms to my knees, struggling to catch my breath.

“It was them,” Luna says, entering the kitchen through the other door, still in her red leggings and white tank. Was it only this morning she brought over breakfast sandwiches? Has it been two whole days since Joy and Xander went missing? Time is an abstract concept I can no longer grasp.

“You thought…” Mallory says.

I nod, adrenaline muddling with disappointment as I pick up the bottle of cleaning spray Mallory dropped. This is when I register the mess.

Papers and empty mugs litter the dining room table. Fine black powder sullies windowsills, door frames, and cabinets. The air smells of cologne and leather, and this violation of Joy’s space, combined with the fact that she’s still missing, feels as if someone just spat in my face.

“There’s a lot more downstairs,” Mallory says quietly.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

Mallory doesn’t look like she’s slept, but then again neither do I. Her blond hair is damp, leaving wet marks on the shoulders of her TSMSYL T-shirt. “Keller said the house was done.”

I remember then what else Keller said. “Why did you tell Keller that Xander and I don’t get along?”

Mallory blinks at me, opaque as usual. “Should I have lied?”

I realize I don’t have an answer for this.

Quinn, wearing a set of collared cherry-print pajamas, shifts her bare feet. “They asked a lot of questions. I wouldn’t take it personally.” She offers me a rag. “We could use a hand.”

Luna touches my arm, reminding me why she drove up the hill in the first place. “Want to deal with that other stuff before helping them clean?”

“Other stuff?” Mallory asks.

“Bank stuff,” Luna says, catching me in a sidelong glance.

I agree to the plan, grateful when Quinn and Mallory ask no further questions because I have no clue how to explain the million dollars I’ve purportedly attempted to transfer.

The mess is indeed worse downstairs. Our recording desk has been heavily violated by the evil dust. Our backup drives are gone. The docking station in the middle of the desk is an untethered octopus, unplugged cords splayed in every direction. Xander’s drawers are open, as are Joy’s. The double file cabinet has clearly been rifled through. Both office closets are ajar, boxes upon boxes of swag and listener art cascading to the floor like waterfalls. Apart from the missing electronics, I can’t tell what they’ve taken, or what might have needed analyzing, but even Fonzie seems altered. He gazes at me, thumbs up, as if to say, Ayyy?

Luna sits beside me at the desk. “All right, what did Alex say again? Why are they suggesting fraud?”

“Because I didn’t do it.”

“I know, I know, but how do they know?”

I shrug. “I’m guessing Xander got a message asking him to verify the transaction. He’s the main contact on the account. I got some texts from him that night.” I bring them up on my phone and show her. “At first I thought he must have overheard my conversation with Joy somehow…” I look away and clear my throat. We’ve already established that Luna would rather not talk about this. “But now I’m pretty sure he was referring to the money.”

She studies the screen with a frown. “Did you call him?”

I shake my head. “Do you think Joy did it? Did you guys talk about money?”

“Briefly. I told her to set some aside in a safe place. We didn’t get into details, but maybe…” She casts her eyes downward, lips pressed together.

Maybe I’m her safe place. All my organs settle at the base of my spine because, clearly, I’m not.

“What if it wasn’t Joy?” I pivot, needing an answer that doesn’t make me feel like an ass. “What if this is all a setup?”

“How? A setup for what?”

“What if—hear me out.” I glance up at the ceiling, through which a vacuum has begun squalling, and lower my voice. “What if Xander did it?”

Luna squints at me. “Why would he put money into your account?”

“That’s just it. It didn’t go through. It was only an attempted transfer. Everyone keeps saying Xander didn’t know Joy was planning to leave him, but what if he did? He was the one who helped me set up my account. He could’ve logged on through my username, made the transaction, and then called it in as fraud.”

Luna’s brow wrinkles. “Why would he do that?”

“You said yourself Joy wanted to divorce him with the least disruption possible. Why? Because if Xander caught wind of her plan, he would absolutely manipulate the situation like this in order to make me look like the bad guy. That way he’d have some leverage when we were fighting over the business. Especially—especially!—if he knew we were planning to preempt him with our secret episode.”