Page 49 of One of Us Is Guilty

‘Patrick doesn’t know how to make coffee, I’m afraid,’ said Vanessa.

We didn’t say anything. I guess growing up rich means you don’t have to make your own coffee. I wanted to ask if he knew how to wipe his own ass, but I decided now was not the time.

He got up, suddenly, the fingers of his left hand still interlaced with Vanessa’s right. He pulled her up with him and strode to the door, practically dragging her out of the room. I leaned back on the couch so I could get a better view. In the hallway, Vanessa yanked her hand away, breaking his grip, but instantly he took hold of her other wrist.

Harry, who was also leaning back, took hold of my arm as I tried to stand. He pulled me back down. I looked at him and he shook his head. Harry knew me well enough to spot my triggers. I kept my anger in check. Just.

Patrick’s grip tightened.

I stood up. Took a breath. Tried to de-escalate.

‘Vanessa, maybe we could go somewhere private to talk. Also, for your husband’s sake, I think it might be better if you stayed somewhere else for a few days. The press haven’t found out about your arrest yet, but it’s coming. I’m sure Patrick doesn’t want paparazzi camped outside the house. There’s a lot of media outlets that would love to run this story. That wouldn’t help his election hopes.’

They whispered, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Patrick let her go.

‘You’re right, Eddie,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go pack a bag,’ and she darted around him and ran upstairs.

Patrick stared at me. Once Vanessa was out of earshot, he spoke.

‘Since when are you so concerned about my political career?’

Harry came out of the living room, said, ‘We want what’s best for Vanessa, and her family.’

‘She’s your client. Not me. Don’t get involved in my affairs,’ he said.

‘I met your father today. He was concerned about the Molly Green case affecting the family. You’re right, Vanessa is my priority, and you are her family. So I guess I should be following your father’s advice and try to protect all of you.’

‘I don’t need your protection.’

‘Of course not, Patrick,’ I said.

‘It’sMr.Vanderpool. You know who my father is. You know how powerful my family is,’ he said, spittle flying from his mouth. His blood was up, his shoulders tensed, eyes locked on me. ‘Show me some goddamn respect,’ said Patrick.

My fingers curled into fists.

‘Sorry,Mr.Vanderpool,’ I said. ‘I don’t care who your daddy is. If I ever see you hurting your wife again, I’ll knock you the fuck out, with all duerespect.’

He froze.

Uncertain what to do.

‘Let’s go,’ said Vanessa as she appeared in the hallway, carrying an overnight bag and a coat in her arms.

She didn’t look at her husband as we left.

Not one word was spoken.

Which said a lot.

I sat in the back of Harry’s car with Vanessa.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I know you mean well. But you shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Is he always like that?’ I asked.

‘Sometimes.’

‘Has he hit you before?’