A soft knock and then Tom entered, carrying more supplies, wearing his usual hangdog expression. He’d been sleeping in the car lately, keeping an eye out for trouble, but also, I thought, paying his penance for what had happened in Kithira. I caught a new wariness to his attitude now. He understood who we truly were.
“I bring sustenance,” he announced.
“Thomas,” Cate said, running her hands through her hair till her curls bristled like a lion’s mane. “Your time to shine. What do you know about the Bellangers? Where they are now?”
“The Bellangers?” he repeated. “You mean … the other ones?”
“His wife. His kids.” Cate was impatient.
“Why are you asking me?”
“You’re the one writing a book.” Every syllable slowed down pointedly.
I jumped in: “You know everyone else’s address. We’re trying to figure out if one of the Bellangers is after us now.”
He inhaled at this. “Wow. Like, the follower? One of his sons. Shit. I never—”
“Do you know anything about them?” I asked.
“To be honest…” Tom set the bags down on the bed, then rubbed hard at the back of his neck, not exactly looking at any of us. “They’ve been pretty hard to track down. I know they stayed in Maryland for a while, probably to let the boys finish school. Marianne was savvy about protecting her own family from the press—she’d use fake names, hide from paparazzi. Once the youngest boy graduated, they went their own ways. The money from Bellanger could’ve tided them over for a while. Her last known address was in California—”
“You don’t know where they are,” Cate said, cutting him off. “Long story short.”
“I’m not entirely sure, no.”
“You’re writing a big tell-all about Joseph Bellanger and you’re not talking to his sons or his wife?” Cate demanded.
“Look, I was getting around to it,” Tom said, defensive, crossing his arms.
“Could you maybe get around to it now?”
That subtle redness, rash-like, drifted up Tom’s neck. “Yeah, I’d love to talk to the Bellangers. Of course I would. But I have to be respectful. They didn’t ask to be part of this.”
Irritation shot through me, and I saw it mirrored in Cate’s face.
“Did they not?” Cate asked. “Bless their hearts. Shall we just leave them alone, then, poor dears?” Her voice was tight with sarcasm, exploding into sudden anger. “Why are you even here, then, Thomas? What do you want with us?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets, wouldn’t look at anyone directly. “I thought we were just talking about our next move. I don’t want a fight.”
“Our next move. Who invited you, anyway?”
“Cate,” I said. “Okay. It’s not his fault. Tom’s been in this from the start.”
She bit at one fist, then let go, sighed. “Yeah? Well, maybe if he’d put any effort into finding the Bellangers and talking to them, instead of hunting us down, we wouldn’t be in this situation at all.”
* * *
“Christ, I could use a cigarette.” Tom tipped his head back against the brick wall, staring up at the grayish night sky. Even the sky around this motel was grimier, greasier, the stars dulled. I’d followed him out there, hoping to smooth things over.
“Me too.” I didn’t know what it would mean if my mother had attracted the attention of the Bellangers, those strangers whose lineage was knotted through ours. Had they attacked her and threatened her? Had they kidnapped her, or had she escaped? The questions beat frantically inside my head.
We sat together on the gravel, the little rocks piercing my thighs. Tom leaned forward, sought out my eyes, and held my gaze. After a second, I understood that he was looking into my eyes as an act of trust right now, purposeful and intent. “Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling the cops. I really thought we needed help, but I almost got you—”
I touched his knee quickly. “It’s okay. I’m fine now. Better than ever.”
“But you could’ve—”
“But I didn’t,” I said firmly. “We both thought it was the right move.”
He smiled a little, relief softening his face. “I wasn’t expecting any of this.” He rubbed his forehead too roughly, eyes looking tired in the scratchy dusk. “When I set out to research this book, I just wanted to find out what had really gone on at the Homestead. I wasn’t expecting to be in a motel with three fugitives, hiding from someone who wants you dead.”