“I am so excited that we’re sharing a room!” she’d said, pulling me into one of her fierce, bony hugs. When she released me, she eyed my pricey pink shift dress and matching pink headband. I braced myself for some kind of dig. I’d saved ages for that outfit, only to immediately regret it the second I stepped on Vassar’s campus and saw that everyone was dressed in black. “Oh I love that dress. It’s so retro chic. We should put our clothes in one closet and share everything!”
I’d always felt both flattered and overwhelmed by Alice’s attention. That was her specialty— keeping you off balance. She was rarely intentionally manipulative, though. I’d had friends like that— dangling you on a string so they could be the smart one or the pretty one or the thin one. Wanting you around only so that they could be more compared to your less. But Alice wasn’t like that. She was a good person. She really was.
“You’re right,” Derrick said. “If Alice was here, I guess we’d all be different. I probably wouldn’t even be with Beth.” He stayed quiet then, waiting for me to inquire. But there was no way I was touching his marriage. “So, you and Bates . . .”
“Things are good,” I said. And they were good. “We’ll see.”
“And— just to confirm— Bates is his actual name?”
I laughed. Derrick’s delivery had been priceless— a little bit jealous, but not too much. “Well, he is a friend of Jonathan’s, so . . .”
“Ah, right.” Derrick nodded knowingly. “That does explain it. Well, I’m glad you’re with someone who makes you happy, that you’ve been able to move on. Much better than the rest of us have, anyway.”
“That sounds a little like a criticism.”
“No, no. That wasn’t what I meant.” Derrick shifted in his chair. “The rest of us are just so paralyzed by guilt or something— you’ve made healthier choices. That’s all I meant.”
Even if it was a swipe, Derrick was entitled maybe. He was allowed to have hurt feelings.
I sighed. “What’s the good of drowning in guilt, all these years later?” I asked. “I mean, life . . . it’s short.”
Derrick looked at me pointedly. “Right.”
“Obviously, it was a mistake what we did after— not calling the police.”
Derrick looked at me again, like he was going to say something else. Or like he was waiting for me to add something more. But then he shook his head and put a hand over mine. It was unexpectedly warm and comforting. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re definitely right.”
“Well, well!” Finch bellowed as he cracked a set of full shot glasses down on the table, spraying most of their contents into the air.
I jerked my hand back from under Derrick’s and wiped at my damp arm. “Was that necessary?”
“Sorry, I was just distracted by the fact that I leave for one second and come back, and here you two are holding hands,” he said. “You don’t waste any time.”
“We weren’t holding hands,” I said. Except we had been, hadn’t we?
Finch kicked back one of the shots, grimaced, then picked up another. “You tell yourself whatever you need to, debutante,” he said. “And I’ll keep on calling it like it is.”
DETECTIVE JULIA SCUTT
SUNDAY, 6:50 A.M.
“Jesus,” Cartright snaps, charging at me the second I step inside. He must have been waiting in the foyer, staring at the door. He checks his watch dramatically. “You said you’d be right back. That was like two hours ago.”
I’d taken longer than I said, but not that long.
“Having a hard time babysitting, huh?” I glare at him. “I’ll be sure to let Seldon know.”
“You think it’s so easy, you do it. They’ve been squawking about heading back to the city for the past forty-five minutes. I was about to let them go because of the fucking headache they’re giving me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “They can’t leave.”
“Tell them that,” Cartright says.
“I plan to,” I say, breezing past him. “When the uniforms get here, you can go.”
It’s dead quiet out in the living room. The lights are all still on, unnecessary now with the daylight. Jonathan and Stephanie have fallen asleep, leaning against opposite ends of the couch. Maeve is awake, sitting upright between them. She crosses her arms tight when she sees me, her eyes going glassy.