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Nancy let her breath out at last. ‘Maybe someone else hit him.’
The judge turned around and went back into the house, his head down. Once he was back in an armchair in the living room he said, ‘I can’t tell you what to do. The only way to be sure is to turn yourselves in,’ the judge said, looking directly at Niall, ‘and let them look at the car.’ He added, ‘The waiter at the restaurant would be able to say how much you’d had to drink. You’d probably be looking at jail time.’
Nancy began to weep again.
The judge waited a long moment before he spoke again. ‘I can also tell you that the solve rate for hit-and-runs is laughably low.’ He added, ‘There’s no footage, no witnesses.’ He was silent for another long moment and then finally said, clearly unhappy, ‘Whatever you decide, I won’t say anything.’
Nancy shot a look at Niall. What would he want to do? She wished her father would be clearer about what they should do.
‘What do we do about the car?’ Niall asked at last.
‘Nothing,’ the judge said wearily. ‘Don’t take it to a garage to get it fixed. It doesn’t really need it, and they’ll be watching for that. No one’s going to notice anything about your car.’
And no one had. For a long time Nancy woke every day hoping that they would catch who’d done it, and that it would be someone else, with a badly damaged car – proof positive that it wasn’t them. But it didn’t work out that way. The case quickly disappeared from the news.
Now, Nancy, curled up on the sofa with her knees to her chest, has to resist the urge to telephone her father.
CHAPTER FIFTY
PATRICK TAKES SOME satisfaction in the shocked look on the receptionist’s face when he walks into the office. ‘Patrick!’ she says.
‘Hey, Kerri,’ he says with a triumphant smile. ‘Is Niall around?’
Niall must have heard him because he strides into the reception area.
‘Patrick!’ he repeats, sounding just as taken aback as their receptionist.
It’s an awkward moment. The last time they spoke, Patrick had been anticipating arrest, and Niall had told him he was dissolving the partnership; it had been acrimonious. Niall still looks very much on his guard. Fuck him, Patrick thinks. Why can’t he be happy for him? Does he have any real friends at all? ‘I have good news. The charges have been dropped. I’ve been completely exonerated, just as I expected,’ he says.
‘That’s terrific! Really good news!’ Niall says, clearly relieved, but with less enthusiasm than Patrick would have liked.
‘Do you have a minute?’ Patrick asks.
‘Of course, come into my office.’
Patrick follows the other man and sits down in the chair he used to sit in, almost daily, for four years. He reflects for a minute that this time yesterday he was still in jail, thinking he might die in there. How quickly things can change, for better or for worse.
‘So, tell me what happened,’ Niall says, sitting back in his chair.
‘They had no evidence. None at all. And once they did some actual investigating, they found out that Erica Voss is a criminal and a liar.’ He explains what they learned about Erica’s past. Patrick shakes his head. ‘She told all those lies; she could have put me in prison for life.’
Niall has gone awfully pale. ‘Wow,’ he says. He asks, ‘Can they charge her with something?’
‘I don’t know,’ Patrick says. ‘But I’m free and clear of her. I’m ready to come back to work – no distractions.’ Niall looks uncomfortable. ‘What?’ Patrick asks, confused. ‘I’ve been cleared, Niall. Completely. They realized they never should have arrested me at all. They even told me as much,’ he lies.
‘I think there’s been a misunderstanding,’ Niall begins.
‘What do you mean, a misunderstanding?’
‘We already agreed to dissolve the partnership, Patrick. You’re getting paid out.’
‘But that was before. Everything’s different now,’ Patrick protests. ‘You can’t still want to dissolve the partnership!’ But that’s exactly what Niall wants to do, Patrick realizes, adrenaline shooting through his system.
Niall flushes. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Patrick. I’m so glad – so happy and relieved for you – that this has worked out. That woman should rot in hell for what she did to you. But – the optics aren’t good. I mean, you’re all that people in this town have been talking about. It’s – quite a scandal.’
‘And now they’ll be talking about how they had to let me go. I didn’t do it, Niall!’
‘I know, and I’m sorry. But to be absolutely honest, I had been thinking about making a change before that. You’d been slipping for months, Patrick, you know that, you can’t deny it.’
‘That was because of the twins! I hadn’t had any sleep in months! They had colic, but they’re over it now. Everything’s back to normal. I can come back to work and give a hundred per cent. A hundred and ten!’
‘I’m sorry to tell you this,’ Niall says, averting his eyes briefly, ‘but I’ve already found another partner.’
Patrick glares back at Niall in disbelief. ‘You son of a bitch.’
‘No need to get nasty, Patrick,’ Niall says, bristling.
Patrick wants to punch his former partner – former friend – in the face. So this is how it ends – four years of building a business together. He realizes he has nothing to lose now. He says, his voice accusatory, ‘You’ve been sleeping with her yourself, admit it.’ Niall’s face pales further and he suddenly looks very distressed. ‘Made you feel good about yourself, did it?’ Patrick says. ‘Let me give you a word of advice – stay away from her. She’s dangerous – you have no idea.’
Niall says, his voice trembling, ‘I didn’t know what she was doing to you. Nancy found out about it and I broke it off. And then, when you told me about the inquest – and Erica’s role in it – I was sickened by it all. Nancy had already threatened to leave me. I wanted to distance myself from both of you.’ He sinks in his chair in shame.
‘You fucking coward,’ Patrick says. He tamps down his rage. He decides to take the high road. He’ll make it on his own. He gets up and leaves, refusing to look at Kerri as he passes by reception, slamming the door on his way out.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
AN UNEASY COUPLE of days go by in the house on Danbury Drive. Patrick behaves affectionately towards Stephanie and the twins, pretending that everything is the same as it was before. But for Stephanie, nothing is the same.
Stephanie has been unable to make a decision. It’s as if she’s paralysed, so she takes the path of least resistance, which is to do nothing. She focuses on the twins – feeding, bathing, dressing, changing. She takes them on outings, reads them stories, plays counting games with their toes.
It’s like she’s suffering from some kind of internal collapse that has sucked out all her energy. Or maybe it’s just that she’s finding it so hard to sleep. She’s back to her old habits, wandering around the darkened house at night, brooding, staring at the sleeping babies, thinking the worst of people, imagining things. Awful things.
It’s time for her to cut her losses and leave him. But she’s afraid. She’s afraid for the twins, mostly. The twins need a strong mother. She must survive, whatever happens, and take care of her babies. She must protect them. She’s tormented by images of her and her babies dying in a house fire. She thinks about the pan on the stove. She doesn’t know who put it there. It might have been her. It might not.
Patrick breaks into her morbid thoughts. ‘I’m going out for a bit,’ he says.
She’s so caught up in her own thoughts that she barely even acknowledges him.
Erica has just left her apartment and is on her way to her car when her cell phone buzzes. She looks down at it and sees who’s calling. It’s Patrick. She hesitates, and then accepts the call.
‘Erica,’ he says in a low voice.
He’s breathing heavily, as if he’s walking quickly. Her heart speeds up and, involuntarily, she looks over her shoulder and around the parking lot outside of her apartment. He’s not here. No, wait. Her heart spikes. She sees him, across the lot, walking towards her. She tries to keep her voice steady, put her old confidence into it. ‘What are you doing here?’ As he gets closer, she disconnects and drops her cell phone into her handbag. He comes closer still, until his face is mere inches from hers. It’s the first time they’ve laid eyes on each other since the inquest.
‘Why the hell did you go to the coroner?’ Patrick hisses at her furiously. ‘I thought we had an understanding.’
She looks back at him in surprise. ‘So did I – until you double-crossed me. What did you expect?’
‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
