AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The phone call. It had come while I was in the bathroom, and though I couldn’t overhear the words, I detected tension in Chris’s voice. My first thought waswifeorgirlfriend. When I emerged, he seemed quieter, somber even, and within minutes his whole mood darkened, chasing the magic from the room. I figured guilt might have overtaken him suddenly. Or that I’d altered the vibe by unloading my concerns about my sister.
My mouth drops open in shock. When I’d told C.J. about Chloe, I’d mentioned her name, that the party was outside Boston, and that I was worried I hadn’t heard from her
“He told you what I’d shared with him, didn’t he? About my sister going missing.”
Liam casts his eyes down, staring into his drink.
“Yes, because it matched with what I’d just blurted out to him.... And because you mentioned the sweater, too.”
“What?” I say. The thought flutters again in my mind, still out of reach.
“You told Chris your sister had a man’s sweater around her waist, which I’d completely forgotten about. That’s— That’s the main reason I went back. And I took the top while I had the chance.”
Bile rises in my throat, and I take a breath, trying to keep it down. I-I set the whole horrible cover-up in motion. If I hadn’t made that one offhand comment, Liam would never have retrieved his sweater, and we would have gotten to the truth twelve years ago.
“So that’s what the trust is about,” I say, seething. “To ease your brother’s fucking guilt over betraying me?”
“No, you have to believe me,” Liam says, holding his hands up to me, palms forward. “He didn’t betray you. When he told me about the sweater, he was doing it to encourage me to go to the police before they found the body and linked me to the scene. He had no idea I’d go back to the woods. Once he knew what I’d done, he pretty much banished me from his life.”
“But he didn’t turn you in,” I say flatly.
“No,” he says, looking down again. “He couldn’t bring himself to do it.”
“You’re certainly not counting on me to keep quiet, are you?”
“Of course not. And just so you know, I’m turning myself in. I’ve already met with an attorney and we’re heading to Dover the day after tomorrow.”
“Right,” I say, incredulous. “You really expect me to believe you’re going to give up what I assume is a cushy life in South America and throw yourself on the mercy of the court?”
He nods, his expression grim. “There’s a saying in Argentina that goes, ‘A cada chancho le llega su san Martin,’ meaning, ‘For every pig, it’s eventually slaughter day.’ Or put another way, there comes a time when you have to pay your dues. That time has come for me. My brother’s death made me realize that the only way I could live with myself was to come forward.”
It doesn’t seem like he’s bullshitting, or if he is, he’s making an extraordinary show of it.
His eyes find mine. “All I ask is that you not mention my name to anyone, including your family, until I’ve been charged. I told my attorney I would keep it under wraps until then.”
Though the crowd in the restaurant area has begun to thin out, there are still diners at scattered tables, sucking down oysters andcracking open lobster shells. What would they think if they could overhear the devastating conversation at this tiny white table?
“Okay,” I say finally. “But only if you give me your word that C.J. didn’t send you back for the sweater.”
“You have my word, I swear. C.J. was a decent guy. The most decent guy.” His voice cracks on “most.”
“But if he wasn’t guilty, why leave me the money?”
He shakes his head. “I think hefeltguilty—because he’d inadvertently set certain things in motion. As soon as he found out he was dying, he called and told me he was assigning the trust to you, and I had to make sure you got it. He’d kept tabs on you, found out you’d dropped out of grad school, that you’d never married, that you lived alone. I think that even before his diagnosis, he’d been contemplating how to make up in some way for what you’d missed out on in life.”
So hedidowe me. More than I could have ever guessed.
“Explain your mother to me—because I just don’t get it. Did she really think that ruining my collages would make me assign the trust to Jane?”
“No, she despises Jane, and never wanted her to have it. But once you told her you’d met Chris in Boston, she began putting the pieces together. She knew you were trying to figure it all out, too, and worried you’d learn the reason. I guess all the harassment was her attempt to keep you off-balance.”
But she might have done worse than throw me off-balance, I think. She had plans for Carl to take me someplace—maybe hurt me or worse.
“I have to make her stop.”
“You don’t have to—because I will. I give you my word.”
I drop my head into my hands. There are so many other questions, but I’m too spent to think of any right now.
