Did you see his hat? Drew had asked Katie when they saw him in the parking lot of the police station. It had two eyes on it. And one was droopy. It made his face look droopy.
He held Gwen’s coffee while she signed the form. Rocking foot to foot just like Uncle Don.
Here’s a fella, been arrested twice for drinking Jack Daniel’s while under the influence of driving…Used to deliver for Gwen Weaver and she fired his sorry ass.
Gwen handed him the clipboard and he saluted her and climbed leisurely into the truck’s cab.
Lifting her coffee, she seemed to salute him back.
Slamming her car door, Katie bolted across the parking lot toward Gwen. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she was doing it.
“Who is he?” she shouted, jabbing her finger at the truck. “Who is he? You know him, don’t you?”
Gwen’s mouth twitched slightly, but she covered it with her coffee then smiled.
“Paul? Sure. I own six restaurants, three with liquor licenses. I know all the Night Owl guys.”
“I saw him, Gwen. At the police station. He’s the witness, isn’t he? The trucker who said he saw a purple car?”
Gwen beckoned her inside, through the kitchen, with its squall of clanging pots, chugging machines, through the swinging double doors, into the empty quiet of the dining area, lunch service cleared save one remaining tub of dishes slithering with grease.
“Katie,” she said quietly, looking down into the bin for a moment, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You seem upset. You seem upset a lot lately. Very dramatic and interesting. What is it today? Diphtheria? Smoke inhalation? I heard you conducted a little Olympic torch ritual in your backyard.”
“How did you know about—goddamn it, Gwen,” Katie said. “I talked to the Belfours. That guy’s the witness who claimed he saw Hailey, right? The one who got it all wrong. And he used to work for you. And now he does again.”
She squinted at Katie, cocked her head. “I’m a firm believer in second chances,” she said, just as she’d said about Ryan. “It’s the American way.”
“Gwen, what is this? Did you pay him off?” Katie asked. “Did you pay him to lie? Do you want me to tell Teddy that?”
Gwen paused, then let out a sigh. She never had been patient. She didn’t know how.
“I didn’t tell him to say it was a purple car,” she said, shaking her head. “In fact, I think I suggested blue. Generic. Purple was Paul’s embroidery. Turned out he doesn’t like Hailey. She was a careless driver. Ran into one of his hand trucks in our lot once. I wasn’t going to pay for the four cases of Old Grand-Dad, so he had to. Anyway, he happens to have some debt—”
“Gwen, I don’t care—”
“Debt really runs this country, doesn’t it? Maybe you know something about that. Everyone wants more than they can pay for. Can you blame them? He needed money, he needed my business. He was willing to do something to get it.”
It was so bold, so stark. Katie nearly leaned back from it, the bald admission.
“For BelStars?”
“For all of us.”
“And you would have just let that train keep going? Let Hailey go to prison?”
“I doubt it would have come to that. But it gave us time. And would you have preferred the alternative?” Gwen said, tilting her head and squinting at her. “Is that what you want, Katie? The police looking elsewhere? Finding suspects, motives? What exactly do you want here? You’d better be sure this is a conversation you really want to have.”
Katie looked down at the table, its bleach-streaked whorls. She thought of Eric on the phone with her. The two of them plotting together. It was like finding him in bed with her, with anyone. Naked and ugly. It was worse. Why it was worse, she didn’t know. It was.
“I don’t want you near my daughter again,” she said, her voice a low growl. “Or my husband.”
Gwen smiled dimly, leaning against one of the booths.
“You can make me the bad guy if you want,” she said. “The tiger mom, the rich bitch. The husband stealer. That one’s flattering. But I never got my kicks that way. I know where I want my energies invested. And Eric does too.”
She looked at Katie, eyes narrow and crackling.
“You don’t know anything about him,” Katie said, tight and low but every word like a scream in her ear. “He brought you in for your sacks of cash. He works to keep you here for them.”
Gwen’s face loosened a split second, a jolt of surprise, or hurt. “Look at you,” she said. “Well, I may not know everything about Eric, but I know about you. You’ve always wanted to play the selfless mom, the good sport, the one with the kid whose talents just fell in your lap. Like she was born a gold medalist and you just stood on the sidelines and clapped. But we both know it isn’t like that.”
“Stay out of my daughter’s business. You have—”