Page 98 of The Life She Had

“We’ll figure this out,” he says. “For now, I have Liam’s phone.”

“What?”

He eases back, hands going into his pockets. “Yeah, sorry if I overstepped there. That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier—not to worry about the phone. Last night, when you told me about it, I said I’d take it for you, and we never resolved that. Then, today, I had one of those ‘Oh, shit’ moments, remembering the phone. I went to the house. You two were gone, so I... kinda let myself in. I’ve got it upstairs. You’re welcome to it, though I’d rather destroy it.”

“We need to move it, fast,” I say. “If the police track it here—”

“I removed the SIM card before I brought it home.”

I exhale. “Thank you. And thank you for collecting it. Definitely not overstepping. I’m the one who forgot about it.”

He hugs me again, tight and quick. “No, you’re the person who’s been trying to get her life back and ended up embroiled in a murder. But it’ll be all right. They didn’t get the phone, and I’m presuming you explained away that anonymous tip the police received about your room.”

“I did. I’d been careful not to box myself into a corner earlier. The problem, though, isn’t the phone or the tip. It’s the gun.”

“Gun?”

I explain. As I do, he struggles to keep his expression neutral, but horror seeps into his eyes only to be replaced by fury.

“Someone put that gun in your room. The killer put that gun in your room.”

I raise my hands. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“Jump to conclusions?” he sputters. “You are the fairest person I’ve ever met, CeCe. Everyone gets the benefit of your doubt. But this goes too far. Your gun was stolen. Now it reappears in your room a day after a man is found shot to death? After an anonymous tip led the police to you? I’ve been stomping around, wanting to throttle whoever tipped off the police, furious because I expected better of people here. But they are better than that. No neighbor saw you talking to Liam. The gun was planted. You’re being framed.”

“My gun might not be the weapon that killed him.”

He sputters more and then settles for gathering tools and slamming them back on the bench until he’s ready to speak. When he does, he says, “I know you’re trying to consider all possibilities, but come on. We both know that’s the murder weapon.”

I say nothing.

“Is there any chance you put it in your room?” he asks. “Fake-Celeste gives you the spare room, and you hide your gun there and forget you did?”

“No.”

“Therefore, it was planted by the killer.”

“I...” I lift my hands. “Hear me out. I’m not being difficult. But the person I saw rooting around my shed is the person who’s dead. I figured Liam was checking out my story to protect Celeste. Makes sense he’d remove the gun.”

Tom leans against the workbench. “Is there any chance he shot him— Uh, no. Forget I started that sentence. There wasn’t a gun in his hand or, presumably, near his body.”

“I figure he had my gun when he went to meet his killer. They used it against him.”

Tom comes over and loops his hands around my waist. “You didn’t shoot Liam. The cops will figure that out. Who kills a man and hides the gun in their own bedroom?”

“Real people. People who exist outside of movies. They panic and shove the gun in their room to dispose of later. Kind of like I did with his damn cell phone. A jury doesn’t throw out forensic evidence in favor of ‘no one would be that careless.’”

He chuckles under his breath. “Would you believe my lawyer actually tried that one with me? Told the judge that I was a smart guy—pulled in an IQ test to prove it—and therefore I wouldn’t do something so foolish.”

“Ouch.”

“Yep. The judge didn’t even nibble. So you’re right there. The point, though, is that you didn’t do it, and I trust the evidence will bear that out.”

“So who did do it?” I say the words slowly, and he meets my gaze with a look that says I know the answer to that. We both do.

“The imposter,” I say. “Fake-Celeste.”

“Before now, I was trying not to presume that, since it would only freak me out, knowing you’re living in the same house with her. But now that the gun was found in your room, it’s obvious she’s the killer, and since she’s framing you for murder, I presume you’ll stay here?”

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