With the meal finally ready, the four sat at the dining table. And for the first time Evan could remember in ages, they held hands, bowed heads, and Olivia said grace.
Liv’s tradition was to give thanks and then say a blessing for each of the children. When she got to Danny, Evan noticed Maggie’s eyes fixed on him, as if she were waiting to see his reaction. As if trying to discern whether the only thing on his mind was the case. He gave his best poker face, but his daughter knew him too well.
Later Evan sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating his wife in the faint light seeping in from the en suite. Liv was naked and had kicked off all the sheets and blankets, out cold from the sun and cocktails and wine at dinner. She was a stunningly beautiful woman.
Evan was still buzzed himself, and didn’t want to leave her. But he needed to get this out of his system. The plan was simple: He’d sneak over to the Moloko Bar, where the call had been made, check things out, confirm Charlotte wasn’t there, and come home. The rational side of him knew it was crazy—understood that Charlotte was dead—but with Evan, reason often gave way to desperation.
He slipped into his shorts and T-shirt from earlier, and padded quietly out of the room. The map app on his phone said the bar was about a ten-minute bike ride away.
“Where are you going?”
Evan felt a thunderbolt rip through him at the voice. Maggie was sitting on the couch in the dark.
“Hey, what are you doing up?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Evan looked at her.
“You don’t have to answer—I know where. I’m coming.” She stood.
“No way.”
Maggie looked at him. “I suppose we could wake up Mom and ask her.”
Evan narrowed his eyes. Man, he loved this kid.
“Seriously, let me come.”
“It could be dangerous.”
“Well then, I should definitely wake Mom.” Maggie headed toward the master bedroom.
“Wait,” Evan said. He deliberated for a moment. But once his daughter grabbed onto something, she didn’t let go. He knew where she’d acquired that trait.
“You’ll wait outside.”
Maggie nodded.
“And if I say you go home, you listen.”
She nodded again.
“And—”
“I got it, Dad. It’s only eleven thirty. Trust me, the place is gonna be packed. It’s Tulum, not Naperville.”
Evan let out an exasperated sigh. “I mean it. If I say you need to leave, then…”
Maggie smiled, already tying the laces on her sneakers.
They rode the bikes along the dark road, Evan wondering if this was a mistake. Maggie was in front of him, her hair in a thick braid swaying back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. For some reason he thought of the out-of-place clock in Dr. Silverstein’s office. He saw lights up ahead.
When they reached the intersection, Maggie waited for Evan, eyeing the map on her phone. “Not too much farther,” she said. “The place is just off the main drag.”
They continued on the dark asphalt, music floating in the wind now, the lights in the distance brighter. Maggie led the charge as they pedaled around clusters of pedestrians and to the Moloko Bar, which was just around the bend from an outdoor cantina. Even this late, the area was bustling.
Maggie stopped across the street from Moloko. She looked conflicted, like she wanted to say something.
“Everything okay?” Evan asked.
“Just be careful, all right?”
Evan smiled, got off the bike, and crossed the street.
The doorman looked at him wearily, as if Evan was the sad old guy at the club. But he waved Evan through.
Inside was what he’d expected: large crowd. Pulsing dance music. The smell of perfume and sweat. He scanned the faces, looking for her. It was at times like this, unexpected, unusual, that he had moments of clarity. Charlotte wasn’t here. He was chasing a ghost. Wasting his final days before Magpie went to college. Squandering his life with Liv and Tommy. Ruining his relationship with Matt. He needed to let this go.
But he was here. Might as well …
He navigated through the crowd and made it to the bartender. The barman had tattoo sleeves and a hipster beard. He wasn’t Mexican, but it wasn’t clear he was American, either.
The music was loud. The guy shouted over the noise, “What can I get you, mate?” He had an Australian accent.
Evan laid a five-hundred-peso bill on the bar, if only because that was what they did in the movies and TV when they were trying to get information. He held out his phone, displaying a photo of Charlotte.