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“Did you check for his car?” Even half asleep he was sharper than I was.
“No.”
We went to the garage together. Simon’s Jeep was still there. My stomach turned over. I had a sudden, horrific image of Simon’s body, hanging in the darkness from one of the trees in our backyard, picked up by our expensive, specially designed outdoor lights. I turned back and ran toward the living room. Rory grabbed me and tried to hold me. I pushed him away, slapping at him to free myself. I staggered as I wrenched myself away from him and fell to my knees, then pushed myself up from the floor and ran again. The lights were on in the living room. I’d turned them on myself. I couldn’t see outside properly. I ran to the sliding doors, opened them, and went outside. The wind whipped at my hair and the grass was wet underfoot. The trees were lit up and swaying in the wind. I ran again, searching and searching. My mind played tricks on me. Every shadow looked like my boy, swinging from a noose. Snow drifted through the floodlights. Simon wasn’t there. There was no one there.
Rory was watching me from the open door. I went toward him but stood so that there was distance between us.
“I thought he’d killed himself.”
“Simon wouldn’t do that,” Rory said. He was wearing pajamas. V-neck button-down pajamas. Old-man pajamas. “Simon wouldn’t do that,” he said again. “He’s not the type.” There was something ugly in his voice.
Rory held his hand out to me. A peace offering. I looked at his hand.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He shook his head. I wanted to talk to him about the knowledge that he and I shared, but it was too dangerous. We could be overheard, couldn’t we? It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that our house had been bugged. I took his hand and I hugged him. I rested my head on his chest, and then I whispered—
“I know.”
His body stiffened. I knew I should stop, that I should leave it there, but I couldn’t.
“He said you knew. That you’ve known.”
“Yes.” He said it reluctantly.
I lowered my voice until it was less than a whisper. Until it was a breath. “Did you help him in some way? You did, didn’t you. Why?”
I looked up into his face, and he looked down into mine.
“Because I love him. And because I love you.”
He was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes. How had I failed to see it before? Maybe it hadn’t been there. Maybe it had taken this, this horror, to make him realize what he felt for us. It was too late. The part of me that might have been able to respond to him, to give something back to him, that part was broken. I stepped back.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
“Everything. Whatever it takes.”
“First we need to find him. And then we need to take him away from here. To New York. Or Hawaii. Somewhere he didn’t spend a lot of time with her. Somewhere where he won’t have to think about things every day.” Did I know, even then, that escape was a fantasy?
“Yes. That sounds good.”
“Rory?”
“Yes, Jamie.”
“He’s never going to forgive himself, you know.”
“Well. We’ll have to help him with that too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Leanne
I woke up alone, in the dark. It took me a moment to orient myself, and to understand what had woken me. My phone was on my bedside table. I felt drunk and stupid. I listened to the ringing for a while and then I picked the phone up and looked at the screen. The number was local, but it wasn’t one I recognized. I thought about not answering, but I pressed the green button.
“Hello?”
Someone gasped for breath on the other end of the line. “I messed up, Lee. I’m sorry, baby. I messed up so bad.”
