“Yay! Daddy’s home!” Lucy cheered, and when Matthew echoed her this time she didn’t seem to notice.
“You were well behaved for the most part,” I said, filled with sudden beneficence toward them. It was always like that with parenting; when they were being awful you could barely stand it, but then they acted loving with each other and you were besotted all over again, convinced that your children were angels.
“Can we watch a movie?” Lucy asked.
“Sure, why not,” I said, and both kids cheered again.
“You’re easy,” Michael said with a laugh, and then, in a lower voice, “Maybe I should ask for something?” He gave me a wicked grin and this time I laughed.
“Maybe you should.”
My phone buzzed silently and I saw a text from Julie: Call me!
I smiled, imagining how she’d enjoy hearing me describe the craziness of the church luncheon. The tension I’d felt for the last week had eased significantly, helped along by the liquor. It felt good to be done with the funeral. And so what if the detectives had been there? There had been nothing and no one to suspect; Heather had performed the role of grieving widow perfectly. The rest of us had stayed away from her and one another. The biggest performance of our lives was over and I felt almost giddy.
As we pulled onto our street, I couldn’t help projecting ahead. In a few weeks, we’d be together again at the coffee shop and life would go on, but it would be even better than before because we wouldn’t have to worry about Heather. Maybe she’d sell the house on the hill and buy one down in the village. I thought about asking Julie to keep an eye out.
I was humming as Michael pulled into the driveway, still suffused by the pleasant buzz. “I’ll get the mail,” I offered as he parked the car. “You guys go ahead in with Daddy.”
“Can we have popcorn with our movie?” Lucy asked, ever the bargainer.
“Didn’t you eat enough cookies?” Michael said.
It was a short walk down the driveway and up the sidewalk to the mailbox at the end of the flagstone walkway that led to our house. The sky was deceptively blue, the sun actually warming my hands as I reached to pull down the little arched metal door. Inside the box was a small pile of mail. I pulled it out, flipping absently through it as I started up the walk. The vast majority was always junk mail. We did all of our banking online, and most of my business correspondence was done online, too. It was rare for us to get real paper mail, so I was surprised to see a business envelope addressed to me.
Tucking the rest of the mail under my arm, I tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was a plain sheet of white paper with a single paragraph of black text. The first line stopped me short: I saw you and your friends on Fern Hollow Road.
chapter twenty-three
ALISON
For a moment, I just stood there, staring down at the letter, my skin hot and tingling as if each word were a slap. You thought no one was watching, but I saw you. I know what you did to Dr. Lysenko and I’ve got the photos to prove it. There was a photo at the bottom of the page. I tore my gaze from the text and down to it. A grainy shot, but I knew immediately where it had been taken. I was clearly recognizable, caught in the Mercedes’s headlights with a garbage bag in my hand, and Julie stood behind me, though only half of her face was visible. Heather had her head down and turned slightly away, although someone could pick her out from her height and slimness, but Sarah was in the worst position: The camera had caught her standing in front of Viktor’s car, yanking free of that makeshift plastic suit.
Who had taken this photo? How? Fern Hollow Road had been deserted—we’d looked around, we’d been so careful.
I will go to the police unless you leave $20,000 in cash at the Kershaw mausoleum in the Sewickley Cemetery on Friday, February 24th, by 10:00 A.M.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jumped before fumbling for it. Julie texting again: URGENT—CALL ASAP!
She answered on the first ring. “A letter came today,” she said before I could say anything, her voice higher-pitched than normal.
“I got one, too—does it have a photo at the bottom?” I said, trying to quell the panic bubbling up to replace my initial shock.
“Yes, yes, that’s it. But how? We were so careful.” Her voice climbed even higher, edging into hysteria. “No one could have seen us—how could someone have seen us?”
“What about the others?” I interrupted. “Did they get the letter, too?”
“Sarah did, but I haven’t heard back from Heather. What are we going to do? We have to talk—”
“Yes, but not over the phone.”
“Ali?” Michael’s voice startled me. He was standing in the front door.
“I’ve got to go,” I said to Julie, hitting the hang-up button and shoving the phone back in my coat pocket. It buzzed again almost immediately.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Michael said as I started toward him, surprised that my legs were holding me up. “Anyone interesting?”
“Just Julie.” The phone was buzzing and buzzing. I could feel it vibrating in my pocket. Could he hear it? I forgot I was still holding the letter until Michael said, “What’s that?”
“Just junk mail.” I shoved the letter into my pocket, too.
“We’re out of popcorn,” Michael said, holding the door open for me. “So I let the kids have ice cream.”
“How can they be hungry after all that food at the church?” I said, surprising myself by how normal I sounded. Was that my voice? I headed automatically toward the kitchen.
“Hey, why don’t you stay awhile,” Michael said. I turned back to see him standing in the hall, holding a hand out to me. When he saw the confusion on my face he added, “Your coat?”
“Oh, right.” I slipped it off, trying not to call attention to the letter in the pocket; I could see a white tip of the envelope poking up. I headed toward the closet, but Michael took it from me.
“I’ll get it for you.” He gave me a kiss that I couldn’t feel as he took the coat from my hands. I hovered for a second, afraid he’d feel the vibrating phone and pull out the letter along with it, but he just hung my coat in the closet and closed the door.
In the kitchen, the kids were chattering happily over bowls of ice cream, while George sat sentinel on the floor between their chairs, looking from one to the other with the hopeful expression of someone fully expecting something delicious to fall. It gave me an idea.
“I think I’ll take George for a walk,” I said.
“Really?” Michael said, surprised. “We just got home.”
“He’s been cooped up all day.”
“What’s the rush? He seems perfectly happy right now.” Michael stared at me quizzically.
“No rush.” I feigned a nonchalance I didn’t feel, leaning against the kitchen island.
“Do you want some ice cream?” he asked, filling a bowl for himself.
The thought of trying to eat anything made my stomach turn over. “No thanks,” I said, stepping past him to fill a glass of water at the sink. As soon as I could get a moment alone, I would text Julie and the others. We could meet at the park and figure out what to do. “$20,000 in cash…” How would we get that money? Where? I gulped the water down, the glass shaking in my hands. I had to set it down before I dropped it, crossing my arms to hide the trembling. I turned back to my family, trying to pretend I was listening to their conversation.
“Are you feeling okay, hon?” Michael asked, reaching over to rest the back of his hand against my forehead.
“Yes, why?” I pulled back, his touch startling me.
“Lucy’s trying to tell you something. You’re a thousand miles away.”
“What is it, Luce?” It took a huge mental effort to focus on my daughter.