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I could cry. Us. That’s the word Kat just used. Such a tiny word. But so powerful.
“Oh, hey, you know what?” Kat says, stopping in the entryway of her living room. “Why don’t I call Sarah to come over, too?” She’s talking about her best friend and sister-in-law, Sarah Faraday, who happens to be a lawyer. The one we toured Seattle with yesterday. “Sarah is crazy-smart—a whiz at research and strategizing. She only lives ten minutes away, and I’m sure her babies are down for the night.”
“Wow, Kat. I can’t tell you how much your support means to me. I’ve been really stressed out about tackling this story as an army of one, especially since I’m kind of going rogue here, like I said.”
Kat laughs. “The fact that you’re willing to go rogue to pursue this story is the best indicator that you should.” She smiles warmly. “And you’re not an army of one anymore, sweetie. You’re now an army of four—you, me, Hannah, and Sarah.” She pats her belly. “Actually, make that four and a half. Don’t tell my family this, because Josh and I are going to surprise them, but this little peanut is a girl. Arabella.”
“Aw, I love it. Congratulations.”
She pats her belly. “And you know what I’m going to tell my two daughters one day? And Jack, too. My son needs to know this, too. I’m going to tell them that, once, a long time ago, their mommy helped their Auntie Georgie bring down a truly evil man.”
Chapter 15
Georgina
Saturday 2:46 pm
When my flight from Seattle touches down in LA, I turn on my phone, the same as everyone seated around me on the plane. And when I see an email from Reed, with a subject line that reads, “Personal and HIGHLY confidential,” my heart stops. My breathing shallow, I read the body of the email:
My dearest Georgina, Attached, you will find a confidential video that’s for your eyes only. Audio quality is poor, so watch with sound turned all the way up. It’s critically important you watch this video when you’re alone, in a quiet place, where you won’t be interrupted. Please, I beg you not to share this video with anyone, or even describe its contents. At least, not before you’ve spoken to me and given me a chance to explain what you’ve seen. Thank you in advance for granting this request. Please call me after you’ve watched. RR.
I look around me on the crowded airplane, where passengers have just started grabbing their bags, and realize, much to my dismay, I’ll have to wait until I reach my parked car to watch this mysterious video. After shuffling off the plane, I make my way through the maze of LAX and onto a parking-lot shuttle. I get off at the appropriate overnight lot, slip inside my rental car, turn the sound on my phone all the way up, and, finally, breathing hard, press play on the video.
Grainy, black and white video of Reed’s garage comes up. It’s surveillance video, time-stamped in the bottom right-hand corner with a date from exactly one week ago. In other words, the date of Reed’s party. I hold my breath with anticipation, and, a few seconds later, Reed and Isabel enter the garage through the same side door they exited through when I stumbled upon them.
As Reed closes the door, Isabel marches into the expansive garage, looking agitated. She comes to a stand, facing the camera, and Reed stops in front of her.
“What’s this supposed ‘emergency’?” he says, sounding deeply annoyed. “Make it quick. I’ve got something important to do.”
“That reporter you introduced me to. She mentioned CeeCee’s birthday party.”
“So?”
“Did you tell her I was with you that night?”
“She asked me how I met CeeCee, so I told her the story of how I crashed the party. And, yeah, I mentioned you were my date. So what?”
“Goddammit, Reed!”
“You’re being paranoid, Isabel. It’s perfectly fine you were my date. Nobody would ever guess how that came to be.”
“She’s really smart. I can tell.”
“Yes, she is. And she wants to write a flattering interview about you. That’s all. She’s not looking to write a hit piece. You’re being paranoid.”
Isabel wrings her hands. “Can you blame me? Every day of my life, I’m waiting for the next Troy to come along to blackmail me.”
Reed’s back is to the camera, but his shoulders soften. “Isabel, I understand why Troy messed with your head. But he was a one-off. If someone was going to threaten to expose your secret again, they would have done it by now. It’s been ten years since you worked for Francesca. If I thought there was an army of Troys out there, lying in wait to take you down, I wouldn’t have paid him so much to stay quiet. I’m rolling in money, sweetheart, but even I can’t afford to pay off the entire world.”
