Graham turns to Demi solicitously. “Do you want me to walk you down?”
“I’m fine,” she says. “It’s just shock.”
“We both love animals,” Graham says as if they’ve talked about it before. As if I hate animals.
“Bean was the best dog,” I volunteer. “Margo didn’t deserve her,” I can’t help adding, which doesn’t score points with Graham.
Graham collects her scattered purchases: necklaces and bags and dresses. Her alibi. How convenient that she showed up with them right after we appeared. She is out to get me; everything is a part of her plan. The whole world is conspiring against me.
Graham shepherds his wounded bird to the stairs. She clings to the railing like a delicate flower, not a dangerous plant.
Everyone is playing a game all the time. It only matters when you’re losing.
* * *
ONCE SHE IS gone, Graham lifts up Bean’s body, carries it into the shed. He’s gentle with her, too.
I follow him to the shed. “It had to be her. Who else could it be?” There are only Demi, Margo, Graham and me. The rest of the world doesn’t exist, is too far away to matter. “It was on our doorstep.”
He lays the dog down on the floor. “Bean wasn’t killed here. We saw her at the house, remember? She ran off barking. It was an inside job.”
“I still think it was her.” I can’t explain to Graham the way Demi looks at me sometimes, like I am the trap.
“Perhaps we should tell Margo.” I know he will tell her eventually. It’s only a matter of time. He tilts his head at Bean’s deflated body, considering.
“No.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “What about the van? Should we open it?”
“The cops said we shouldn’t,” I say before realizing how stupid that will sound to him.
He steps over Bean’s body and stands before a wall of expensive tools we never use. He selects a stone mallet, cocks it on his shoulder. I follow him and the mallet into the courtyard.
“What are you doing?” I say, just a little thrilled.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He bounces up the steps, weapon ready. He comes to an abrupt stop. “It’s gone.”
“What?” I climb up behind him, peer around him. The van is gone. It was here when we were talking to the police, but now it’s gone.
“Maybe there was someone in there,” I say. “Maybe they heard us talking.”
“This situation is getting out of control,” he says, casually flinging the mallet into the shrubbery. “Shall we open a bottle of Mo?t? All this excitement is making me thirsty.”
LYLA
Graham tosses and turns in bed that night, like he is the one thinking torturous thoughts. Something has changed. Margo is out to get me. It’s only a matter of time before she does. Graham’s bored. He’ll stop protecting me. Maybe he has already. The dog and the gate and the van and the arrest. Why does every bad thing happen to me? Why me?
What does it all mean? There has to be a connection, something that makes sense. Demi and Margo and Graham and me, and maybe God pulling the strings. Maybe God is punishing me, but that’s silly. God never punishes people with money.
Graham rolls over in our bed. I stay perfectly still.
There has to be a way out of this mess, a way to sway Graham back in my favor. The birthday party will help, but will it be enough? Fake murder with fake ammunition. Blasting your friends with gold dust. I think of Elvira’s real dead body. That’s where the game changed. That’s when everything changed.
That’s the only way to change it back. I know that. Margo spelled it out: It’s her or me. And the van and the gate and the dog. It has to be Demi. Nothing like this ever happened until she moved in downstairs. It has to be her fault. She is trying to unbalance me. She is throwing me off.
Demi is willing to kill. And even worse than killing a human, she killed a dog. Or had it killed. It had to be her. She wants what I have.
But even if it wasn’t her. Even if it was a coyote, an accident, an act of God: It’s her or me. The game has changed. There is only one way to end it now.
I’ll invite Demi to the party. I’ll make sure she comes. I know her weakness, and it turns out it was my weakness all along: Graham. I think of the way she leaned in when he held her. She trusted him, with awestruck eyes, when she won’t let me anywhere near her. I will tempt her with Graham, the most delectable of us all. I’ll dangle my husband from a string and get her to come. Get her to play.