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Candace had been raised with money and influence. Her family expected her to succeed. She slid in and out of that world with ease, insisting that as a biracial woman she didn’t fit into any box. Black people saw her as too white. White people whispered about Candace being “too street.” Those whispers were quiet and careful but not hard to overhear.
No one dared ask outright if Candace belonged on the Main Line or in the fancy boutiques. People knew her family. A generation ago her grandfather had used a family recipe to introduce a candy bar to the world. Now the company was an empire. One overt racist remark and her family’s influence would take over. Deals would dry up. Event invitations would stop.
Candace talked about the discomfort of being accepted for her bank account, but insisted if people were going to judge her that way, then she was going to use all of her ammunition to keep them in line. She joked about it being the benefit of coming from “candy money.”
ABBY:The police said what happened to Candace was an accident.
CONCERNED:it was made to look like one
ABBY:Leave me alone.
Elisa thought about all the police involvement in Candace’s death. That detective, definitely Burroughs. Detective Burroughs. He was the father of Josh’s friend, helped Josh and Harris navigate all of it. She remembered meetings at the kitchen table where the men combed through files and photographs.
CONCERNED:are you ready to read the police report about Candace’s death? look at the photos?
ABBY:Stop.
CONCERNED:too much blood for a simple accident
ABBY:I’ll show these messages to Josh.
CONCERNED:you won’t show them to anyone–you can’t trust josh and you don’t want to endanger anyone by involving them and making them josh’s target
That was the second time Elisa had read the subtle threat voiced by Concerned. The one that warned Abby to stay quiet and not share the messages. Ever since Elisa read the first message she’d wondered why Abby hadn’t talked about all of this. Probably because of Elisa’s mental state post-shooting, which was even less solid than now. Possibly because Josh was her brother-in-law and Abby wanted to protect her. But also because Concerned made it clear sharing was not safe for the people Abby cared about, and Elisa knew that included her.
Elisa didn’t get it. She didn’t know who Concerned could be. One of Candace’s family members or someone in law enforcement? And why lie? The police report should support Josh, but Elisa could feel Concerned trying to convince and turn Abby. The tension jumped off the page as the tone grew more terse and the messages more frequent. The desperation was tough to miss.
Elisa kept scrolling, even though she knew that, in a way, reading along invited Concerned into her house.
CONCERNED:candace wasn’t his first
ABBY:What does that mean?
CONCERNED:ask him about Lauren
Elisa stared at the screen.Who’s Lauren?
Chapter Seventeen
Elisa was still up in the bedroom rereading all of the saved messages and not one step closer to figuring out the identity of Concerned when she heard the front door shut and pounding footsteps as Nathan raced through the first floor. He was talking about something and it sounded like frogs, so she stayed where she was on the love seat.
She’d called the police to talk with Detective Burroughs, but he’d retired. That meant talking with the detective she’d talked to about Abby before, but he was out for the day. She doubted he’d return her message, or he would with acase is closedcurt response about Abby. Another wall. More questions and no answers.
A few minutes later Harris stepped into the bedroom. He wore a frown and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up as if he went from work right to—
He stared at her. “Anything you want to tell me about today?”
The Josh showdown. She knew despite his statement about not telling Harris that he would run right to his big brotherand tattle. He had thatyou’re losing itspeech locked and ready to go. No doubt he wanted Harris to hear it, too.
She dropped the laptop on the cushion beside her and stood up. “I know you’re angry.”
“Not angry, but all you had to do was call me to help out.”
Okay, that didn’t make any sense. “What?”
He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a white tee underneath. “To pick up Nathan.”
“Oh my God.” Her hand flew to her mouth right as a wall of motherly guilt crashed down on her. She’d forgotten all about her son and getting him from school. What the hell was that? “I lost track of time.”
