“Fucking taxes.”
Callie smiled.
Leigh smiled back.
She offered, “I could always send you back to rehab.”
“I said no, no no.”
Leigh laughed at the Amy Winehouse impersonation. She would have to tell Walter that Callie had made a pop-culture reference that took place after 2003.
Callie said, “I guess we should go.”
Leigh stood up. She reached for Callie’s hand to help her up from the couch. Her sister didn’t let go as they left the office. Their shoulders bumped in the narrow hall. Callie still didn’t let go when they reached the waiting room. They used to walk to school like this. Even when they were older and it looked strange, Callie had always held on tight to Leigh’s hand.
“BMW is still here.” Callie sounded disappointed to find the car parked outside.
“Andrew’s a control freak,” Leigh said. “He’s making us wait because he knows it’s killing us.”
“Then take away his control,” Callie said. “Let’s drive over to his house right now and get the tapes.”
“No,” Leigh said. She had already gone down this road with Walter. “We’re not criminals. We don’t know how to break into houses and threaten people and crack safes.”
“Speak for yourself.” Callie pushed open the door.
Leigh felt her heart trip.
Walter was not inside the Audi.
She looked left, then right.
Callie was doing the same. She called, “Walter?”
They both listened in the silence.
“Walter?” Callie tried again.
This time, Leigh didn’t wait for a response. She took off. Her heels stabbed into the broken concrete as she jogged past the barbershop. She rounded the corner. Picnic table. Empty beer cans. Piles of trash. Behind the building showed more of the same. She took off again, making a full loop around to the front. She didn’t stop until she saw Callie leaning past the open door of the Audi.
Callie stood back up. She was holding a torn piece of paper in her hand.
“No …” Leigh whispered, her feet moving again, arms pumping, as she ran toward her car. She grabbed the note out of Callie’s hand. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. Light blue lines. Dark red blood seeping in from the torn corner. One sentence scribbled across the middle.
Andrew’s handwriting hadn’t changed since he’d doodled in Leigh’s textbooks. Back then, he’d drawn dinosaurs and motorcycles with thought bubbles filled with nonsensical things. Now, he had written a threat that mirrored the one Callie had passed on through Sidney.
If you want your husband back, come and get him.
20
Callie stepped back as Leigh’s vomit splattered at their feet. Her sister was doubled over, wracked by terror. An almost animal wail came out of her mouth.
Callie looked around the parking lot. The BMW was still there. The road was dark, absent any cars. Andrew had come and gone.
“Oh, God!” Leigh dropped to her knees. Her head was in her hands. “What have I done?”
Andrew’s note had fluttered to the ground. Instead of trying to comfort Leigh, Callie leaned down to pick it up. His sloppy handwriting was as familiar to Callie as her own.
“Callie!” Leigh was keening, and then her head was pressing against the asphalt. Another horrible wail came out of her mouth. “What am I going to do?”
Callie felt as removed from Leigh’s agony as she’d been the last time her sister had been bowled over by despair. They were in Linda and Buddy Waleski’s master bedroom. Leigh had come to save Callie and ended up ruining her life.
Again.
The night they had killed and butchered Buddy Waleski was not the first or last time that Callie had brought her sister to her knees. It went as far back as their early childhood. Callie had come home whining about the girl who’d teased her on the playground. Leigh had ended up in juvie for nearly scalping the child with a broken piece of glass.
Leigh’s second stint in juvie was Callie’s fault, too. Leigh’s sleazy boss had said something about the way Callie’s nipples pressed against her T-shirt. That night, Leigh had been arrested for slashing his tires.
There were more examples, both large and small, but they ranged from Leigh risking her career by paying off a junkie to take the fall for Callie’s crimes to Leigh losing her husband to a psychopath Callie had openly taunted.
She took another long look at Sidney’s BMW. Andrew hadn’t taken the car because he had been patiently waiting for better leverage. It was sheer coincidence that Walter had been made available instead of Maddy.