“What?” Ella says.
“Pretending all the time. Faking the smiles and cheerfulness, so everyone stops worrying about you.”
Ella says, “Then let’s stop doing it. Fuck it.”
Layla smiles, a genuine one this time. “Yeah. Fuck it.”
CHAPTER 57
KELLER
“What are we waiting for?” Atticus asks.
They’re in Keller’s Volvo, parked down the street from the McKenzie home. Far enough away not to draw attention, close enough to see the comings and goings of the McKenzies. The sky remains gunmetal gray—the sun hasn’t appeared in three days.
“I’m hoping to get Katie’s mother alone.” Keller shifts in her seat. She feels pain in her pelvis. An uncomfortable feeling, but not uncommon during her pregnancy. She’s not due for a few weeks, so it’s nothing.
“You okay?” Atticus asks, seeing her discomfort.
“Yeah, it’ll pass,” she says, taking in a deep breath. She’s certainly not having twins in her pre-owned Swedish automobile, much less having them delivered by Atticus Singh.
“Maybe we should go to the door,” Atticus says.
“You know what happened last time. We need to get her away from her husband or we’ll just get the door slammed in our faces again.”
Atticus looks uncertain, but he doesn’t say anything.
An hour passes. She’s got to pee and is starting to think that maybe Atticus was right—they should just go pound on the door. The thought is interrupted when Atticus says, “At last.”
Ms. McKenzie walks down the front steps to her car. She’s carrying what looks like a sheet cake. She puts the cake on the passenger seat, gets in the car, then pulls out.
They follow at a discreet distance.
Ms. McKenzie is a cautious driver, never exceeding the speed limit. In light traffic, it’s a struggle to keep a safe distance to avoid Ms. McKenzie spotting them.
Atticus points to a sign for a church. “Maybe someone’s birthday or some kind of celebration.”
But Ms. McKenzie’s car passes the church. They follow her through the business district, across the railroad tracks to a rougher patch of town, a sea of check-cashing shops, liquor stores, and fast-food joints.
“What the hell?” Atticus says as he watches Ms. McKenzie pull up to a throng of men huddled in front of a bodega. A young man breaks from the group and heads to Ms. McKenzie’s car. He hunches over, says something, then reaches inside the vehicle. There’s an exchange.
“Never judge a book by its cover,” Keller says.
“I get that,” Atticus says. “But the Church Lady doing a drug deal? Damn.”
They follow Ms. McKenzie as she backtracks toward her home. And, sure enough, she stops at the church.
She parks and carries the sheet cake inside.
Keller thinks about going in after her, putting the pressure on, grilling her in front of the congregation. She decides against it. This woman knows more than she’s saying, and she may be a secret drug user, but her daughter was murdered. If anyone deserves a break …
A half hour later, Ms. McKenzie emerges from the church.
Keller climbs out of her car, Atticus following after her.
“Ms. McKenzie,” Keller calls out.
The woman turns, offers a plastic smile. It takes a moment for her to recognize them and the smile disappears.
“My husband already told you that we have nothing to—”
“Does your husband know about your trips over to the bodega?”
Ms. McKenzie swallows hard.
Keller continues, “I’ll bet if we search your car, he won’t like having to bail you out.”
Ms. McKenzie’s head snaps back and forth, looking around the lot. “What do you want?”
“We have a few questions. Answer them, and I’m inclined not to take this further.”
Ms. McKenzie’s lip quivers. She nods for Keller to continue.
“We know about Katie’s pregnancy.”
Ms. McKenzie tears up now. She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t need to.
“I understand why you wanted it kept confidential. I do.”
A car pulls into the lot and two churchgoers get out. They’re holding strings with latex balloons that say CONGRATULATIONS! on them.
Ms. McKenzie’s demeanor changes. She pulls herself together, smiles and waves, like she’s chatting with friends. The couple waves back, the balloons bobbing behind them in the breeze.
“Do you know who the father was?”
Ms. McKenzie shakes her head. In a soft voice she says, “We knew she was seeing someone. She wouldn’t tell us his name. We assumed it was him.”