“Well, I gave them everything I had in my account, only like six hundred dollars,” Peter said. “But they said I had to find you, Jonathan, because they wanted the rest. And so I called and called . . .”
Jonathan pulled out his phone and glanced down at the screen. “I’m sorry, Peter, we’ve just been so consumed.”
“It’s okay,” Peter said. “Really, Jonathan, this was all my fault.”
Of course it’s your fault!
“After I couldn’t get you on the phone, they got even angrier. I thought they were going to get physical, and it was three against one,” Peter continued. He looked embarrassed. “I honestly— I panicked. It just came out. I’m so sorry.”
No, I thought. He couldn’t possibly mean . . .
“What came out?” Stephanie asked.
“About the girl,” Peter said quietly.
“What about the girl?” I asked, my throat so dry I barely got the words out.
“I said that a girl had OD’d in the house. I had to explain why I couldn’t reach you, Jonathan. Because you were dealing with that.”
“You told the contractors that we were moving the body of a dead girl?” Stephanie’s voice wavered. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“No, no, I only told him that she died. That’s all. That it was an accident, of course.” Peter looked up at Jonathan. “You had to be there, Jonathan. There was just— I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Obviously!” Stephanie shouted. “And by the way, it doesn’t matter if you told them we moved her or not. Because that would still mean she’s dead and we haven’t called anybody? It’s not like that isn’t also a problem.”
“Stephanie, stop,” Jonathan snapped. “It doesn’t matter how we got here. We’re here now. Yelling isn’t going to help.”
“They want more money,” Peter went on, his voice unsteady. “Twenty thousand dollars. On top of the eleven thousand.”
I lowered myself onto the couch. This was actually happening, wasn’t it? How did this situation keep getting worse?
“They want thirty-one thousand dollars?” Jonathan asked. And finally, finally, his hand dropped from Peter’s back.
Peter nodded. “Yes, but then they promised they won’t say anything to anybody about the girl.”
“Oh, well, as long as they gave us their word.” Stephanie brought a hand to her forehead. “We are so completely and totally fucked.”
Holy shit. Stephanie was right. I’d have said as much if my mouth hadn’t been frozen stiff. “It’s fine. We are going to be fine,” Jonathan said, though even he didn’t sound convinced. “I can get at least a decent chunk of it by going into a bank or a couple banks today. Probably not all of it. They don’t always have that much cash on hand. I’ll wire the rest to them. They just want money, right? Luckily, paying them isn’t a problem.”
“And if they won’t take a wire?” I asked. “I mean, they are blackmailing us.”
“If they want the money, they’ll take a wire,” Jonathan said. He turned back to Peter. “How are we supposed to get it to them? Are they calling you back or something?”
“The main guy, Luke, said he would text me later with a location.”
“All right, let’s go get the money then,” Stephanie said, all business now. She checked the time on her phone. “The banks probably close early on the weekend.” This was how she’d been about that night on the roof, once she finally agreed not to call the police: ruthless about getting the actual job done. It was impressive.
I did not move toward the door. “Maybe I should stay? Somebody needs to explain what’s going on to Derrick and Keith when they get back.”
“Good idea,” Stephanie said, clasping one of my hands briefly on her way out. “So much for getting out of Dodge, huh?”
I sat on one of the chairs along the wall in the parlor, waiting and waiting for Keith and Derrick. The whole time, I worked hard to find again that hopeful place in myself. The one everyone counted on to spy the bright side in the distance. Even when none existed. Like right now. Because this situation was catapulting only one way: straight downhill.
Finally, the door opened, and Keith and Derrick stepped inside. “Are you guys okay?” I asked, jumping to my feet.
“We will be,” Derrick said, closing the door quietly and carefully with two hands, like he was sealing off a memory.