“I thought there was always a chance to get a new hand,” I said.
His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, LJ. Fuck, I know I’ve hurt you. I know that’s why you’re . . . being like this.” His eyes were deep and dark like nighttime. Like the skies we used to sleep under in the bed of his truck. “But honestly, my heart broke, too, somewhere along the way.”
I felt my ribs contract. If I moved too quickly, I knew I’d sob. Meanwhile, HP looked like he was going to reach out and hug me.
“I didn’t even think we were done, and then you’re suddenly overseas, and then getting married. And now . . . this. It’s just . . . a lot to take in.” We weren’t touching but in the gap between us, a hum of connection surged. I was sure he felt it, too.
“Not to say anything bad about Saskia. I’m not—you know—speaking badly of her.” He sighed. “But you and me—if this had all been the other way around and you’d done this to me, I know for sure I’d have kicked that guy’s ass.”
“Who’s to say I won’t kick hers?”
We laughed, oh ha ha ha.
“It’s good to talk to you, LJ. I want us to be in each other’s lives. We grew up together—it means something. And you’re my first love. That’s forever. That’s set in stone.”
I looked down at the floor tiles. “You know, I don’t want you to call me LJ anymore, or Little John. I’m going with Angela from now on.”
“Really?” He frowned. “I don’t think Angela’s you.”
The front door swung open and Mrs. Parker walked into the house carrying two halves of a broken wineglass. Her index finger dripped blood.
HP sprang forwards and grabbed some paper towels from the roll on the counter.
“So silly,” Mrs. Parker said, her head fluttering. “I was just picking up the pieces and one of them sliced me.” HP pressed the towel to her finger and guided her to the sink. “How are you?”
It took me a second to understand she was speaking to me.
“Oh, okay.” I cleared my throat. “It’s a nice party.”
Mrs. Parker glanced at me, with meaning. “Well done for coming.”
“I was just leaving, actually. But thank you. It’s always good to see you, Mrs. Parker.”
She wrapped the towel around her finger and kissed her son’s cheek, then touched my face softly as well with her one good hand. “I’ll leave you to your chat.”
The kitchen felt awkward once she’d left. Neither HP nor I could make eye contact.
“I should go,” I said.
HP turned and swept me into a hug with such force that it lifted me onto my tiptoes. His entire frame held me up, braced me: if I’d relaxed every muscle in my body, I wouldn’t have slumped an inch.
And that’s what Novak’s not getting, what he doesn’t see. It’s not about the drinks HP didn’t buy me or the hours he spent on his own. It’s about who your soul mate is. Ask HP’s mom. Even she knows. Guys like HP hug like that to tell you something. Something that means forever.
chapter
* * *
15
Novak’s returned with renewed vigor, as if he spent the hour between twelve and one downing cans of Red Bull. I wish he’d brought me the coffee he’d promised. With the exception of two bathroom breaks, I’ve been sitting in this room for almost sixteen hours now. I’m starting to see double.
“We’ve just confirmed: Saskia Parker’s DNA is all over that elephant necklace.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” I close my eyes. “I thought you already knew it was her necklace—you have it in a bag with her name on the label.”
Novak balks. He looks like a kid who’s presented his best artwork and been told it’s not that special. He stands, pacing to the window. Outside, the sky has been engulfed by darkness.
“Believe me, we’re getting somewhere. Fast. You should, too.”
“Right. Sure, Novak. Let me get on that.”
He sweeps his hair to the side and stares out the window.
“Who else’s DNA is on the necklace?” I ask.
“Why aren’t you asking where we found it?”
“Well, wherever it was, I didn’t put it there.”
He watches me for a moment. “We’re looking into Freddy. You know that, right? Tell me what you know. What’s relevant, I mean.”
It’s absurd how lost Novak is. He’s seriously their homicide guy? I could find Saskia quicker myself.
“Isn’t Freddy in one of your rooms down the corridor? Anything you want to know, you could probably ask him yourself.”
He continues staring out the window. “What was his apartment like? You spent a lot of time there.”
“You’re asking the wrong questions. You already have all your answers.”
“I have some of them.” He turns his head slightly. “How much time did you spend with him in his New York apartment?”
With his back to me, the line of skin below Novak’s hairline is startlingly white, as if it’s never before been exposed to sunlight.
“Are you asking about Freddy because you think he’s madly in love with me? That he’d do anything I asked of him? My God, this is ridiculous.”
“Is it? What would he do for you? How far would he go?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“Am I right that Freddy shares your contempt for Saskia?”
“I’d say he’s sympathetic.”
Novak slopes against the wall with his hands in his pants pockets. He looks like a menswear ad, the kind my dad would respond to. “Why didn’t you move in with him?”
“Because I wasn’t in love with him.”
“Who were you in love with?”
Novak wants my answer to be HP. He’s literally bending at the knee, waiting to pounce on it.
“I stayed in Cove, if that’s what you’re asking, because it gets comfortable living where you’ve grown up. You know? We’re all creatures of habit.”
Novak laughs quietly.
“My dad bought a little house by the lake so I moved into it. It was easier to stay than go.”
“Didn’t HP and Saskia live in a house by the lake?”
“It’s a big lake.” We stare at each other, but his eyes are colder than mine. “Mom came to visit me a lot. She liked Freddy even more than I did: he was rich, successful—”
“Wait, what?” Novak pushes forwards and hurries to his chair. “Your mother had a connection with Freddy?”
There you go, Novak. You’re welcome. “I’m not sure if you’d call it a connection. I mean, if you ask me, it was a little one-sided. Mom liked that Freddy was articulate and refined. He’s debonair like a young Laurence Olivier, darling, or a Ralph Fiennes.”
He’s really scribbling now.
“So, did she make actual advances on him?”
“Advances?” I take pleasure in saying it: “Oh, I suppose. I couldn’t say for sure how Freddy responded to them. Sometimes guys say one thing and do another. Don’t you find?”
Novak spins in his chair and signals to the camera in the far corner. It’s a circular motion with his right hand, as if he’s twirling a tiny hoop on his forefinger. Run the tape? Check the facts? Go get Shelley Petitjean? It’s a call to action, that much is clear.
“What did your mother say when she heard Saskia was pregnant with HP’s child?”