“You know. You know…” I searched Nate’s face for confirmation of the fact—but his calm stare was confirmation. My world tilted on its little axis.
Confusion struggled over Nate’s expression, and then he said very softly, “I’m my brother’s keeper, Hannah.”
I staggered off the couch and fell. Nate moved to help me, but I scrambled away from his hands. “Don’t touch me!” I said. “You knew. All this time. You knew he was alive. You lied to your own parents. You—”
“They’re not my parents,” he murmured.
I gripped the arm of the couch and pulled myself to my feet. I had the sense of falling, as if the world were rushing past at great speed.
Could this be?
Nate’s tearful eyes before the memorial, his offer of his portion of Matt’s inheritance, even his showing up in Denver to watch over me—it was all part of an elaborate act.
“Oh, my God.” I covered my mouth.
“Steady now, Hannah.”
“Why couldn’t I know? Why couldn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t he tell me?”
“This was the way he wanted it.” Nate hesitated. Even now, he was reluctant to betray Matt. “It had to be believable, down to the last detail. But Matt needed money to live on. My job was simply to … ensure that you received his inheritance.”
Nate’s job.
The word pierced me.
Nate … so generous, so good, so thoughtful … was only doing Matt’s bidding when he offered me Matt’s money. And Matt was only ensuring he retained control over his money. Matt planned all this without telling me, letting me believe we were the closest of coconspirators.
But I was not instrumental in Matt’s plan. I was incidental to it. A footnote.
I stumbled away from Nate and clutched my purse.
“Have you talked to him?” I said.
“No. We’ve had no means of communication.” Nate wrung his hands. “Can you tell me how he is, please? Hannah, I’ve had no idea. It wasn’t until I called you last month and you said you were at the cabin … that I knew things had gone as planned.”
I yanked on my coat and headed for the door.
“No! I’m not going to tell you how he is. You can both go to hell. I feel so ridiculous, Nate. What was the point of this?”
Nate dragged a hand through his hair. He looked flustered, less dignified than I’d ever seen him. “Hannah—”
I went out before he could answer, and I slammed the door behind me.
Chapter 34
MATT
Hannah didn’t show on Friday. Our light—the last light of day—came and went. I called her prepaid cell and got no answer. I waited for her at the end of the drive.
I called again and again, though finally I got a grip and put my phone in my pocket.
After all, what if someone else had her cell? What if someone was visiting the condo?
As I walked back to the cabin, I envisioned Hannah’s car in a ditch. I envisioned her at St. Luke’s with postconcussive syndrome. I envisioned Seth returning to terrorize her.
Fuck.
“Where are you, bird?” I said into the silence of the cabin.
I’d sent Melanie away, as usual. She was going on four weeks in my service, and before she left for her motel that weekend I gave her a fourth envelope of three thousand dollars.
Maybe that explained why Mel kept coming back—not out of loyalty or interest, but because twelve thousand bucks in four weeks is damn good earnings.
I decided that Hannah was merely late and I resolved to wait for her. My panic waxed and waned as the hours passed. Hannah is fine. Hannah is in trouble. Hannah is busy. Hannah is lying in a ditch. Hannah is out with friends. Hannah is in the hospital.
I ran Google searches for Denver accidents, car crashes between Denver and the mountains, Hannah Catalano. I tried her cell a few more times. I swore and paced.
Morning light paled the sky.
I called Melanie, who picked up just as her cell was going to voice mail.
“Matt.” She coughed. “Six … six o’clock. Whyyy?”
“Hannah never arrived. Do you understand? She isn’t here.”