May wasn’t generally a sweaty person, but she had an undeniable tendency to pit up under pressure. At the DA’s Office, she had always worn black suit jackets over her silk blouses during trial, no matter how high the temperature soared in a courtroom. It had been only twenty minutes, but a constant stream of lies, straight to a detective’s face, had left a beaded ring of perspiration around the base of her neck. She felt chills as she stepped from the pool deck into the air-conditioned house.
She walked up the stairs to the bedroom that was now Kelsey’s and reached out to knock, but Detective Decker appeared beside her and called out instead. “Ms. Ellis? I’m ready to speak to you when you’re all set.”
He flashed a smile that was probably polite but felt a little condescending. He kept his eyes on her as Kelsey stepped past them and began heading down the stairs. “Thanks again for your time,” he said, before leaving her alone on the landing.
May had been hoping to have a one-second face-to-face with Kelsey. Time to mouth just two words. The note.
He had known about the note.
She had stuck to the plan, denying knowing anything about it.
You said this couple you saw was bickering. Did it have anything to do with a note?
I have no idea. I couldn’t actually hear what they were saying. It was just clear they were arguing. And they were pretty far away. That’s why I can’t be sure it was even the same guy.
Did you see a white car with a note on the windshield?
No.
Did you leave a note on anyone’s car windshield?
Of course not.
Instead of having time to warn Kelsey, she watched helplessly as her friend stepped onto the back deck with the detective.
In the kitchen, she replayed the interview in her head. Much of it had been a rehash of what she had already told Danny Brennan at her apartment—the couple arguing, the missing-person flyer, the pit stop at the American Hotel to see if anyone else had noticed.
Even though the interview had remained informal and non-confrontational, there had been a bizarre, almost schizophrenic tone to it as the detective lurched between chitchat (how long had the trip been planned, who found the house, what rental agency had they used), extremely narrow questions (whether she recognized a specific telephone number), and repeated questions about Marnie Mann and whether May knew that Kelsey’s husband had been murdered, the case still unsolved.
At least he hadn’t pressed her when she said she knew nothing about the note left on Smith’s car. He didn’t seem to know the note was written on the type of napkin used at the American Hotel. He also didn’t indicate he knew what the note said. But how had he known about it at all?
She was continuing her search of David Smith’s social media accounts when her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. It was Josh. She answered with an abrupt “Hey.”
“Hey.”
As whole seconds passed in silence, she thought maybe she shouldn’t have even answered.
“Are you mad at me?” he finally asked.
Was she? Was she mad? No. Just disappointed. Disappointed in herself for being in this situation. Disappointed in him for being jealous of Nate. Disappointed in herself for giving him a reason to be suspicious of her. Disappointed in them for not being the kind of couple where she immediately told him what was going on when Danny had shown up at the apartment asking questions—or even when she first found out that Kelsey had left the note.
“He’s Kelsey’s brother,” she said. “That’s all.”
“And also your ex-boyfriend.”
“From fifteen years ago. Sorry, but you sound ridiculous, Josh.” Sorry. Always saying sorry. A word he hadn’t uttered yet.
“When we first met and did the whole so-what’s-your-history thing, I was the one who said that none of that should matter. That nothing good comes from thinking of the person you’re with as having been in love with someone else. You’re the one who pressed the subject. You were the one who was curious, who said it was part of getting to know each other better. But whenever it came to that one particular dude, you didn’t want to talk about it. You clammed up, locked down like Fort Knox. He’s obviously a sore spot for some reason, like he’s still in your head—so yeah, I guess I’m jealous. I’m sorry.”
“That wasn’t the kind of sorry I was hoping to hear.”
“Okay, you’re right. I’m actually sorry. I acted like a Neanderthal. Is that better?”
“A little bit.”
“Me caveman. Me big dumb jealous caveman. Me fucked up. Me so sorry.”
“Okay, that’s better.”
“But will you admit you get weird when the subject of Kelsey’s brother comes up?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because we’re getting married. I care about all of it.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Just promise me he’s not the reason you suddenly decided to go back to East Hampton?”
“I swear.” At least that part really was true.
“Are you guys having fun? No more FOMO?”
“No more FOMO,” she said, trying to mask the sadness from her voice. Keeping so many secrets made her feel so distant from him.
She hit the button to refresh the comments on Dave Smith’s most recent Instagram post, a selfie in which he was holding up a margarita, captioned “beach week, bitches.” She had been monitoring the replies posted as news of his disappearance must have spread among his friends.
The muscles in her jaw tensed as she stared at the two most recent comments. “Josh, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Are you okay—”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Um, it sounds like they dropped something downstairs and are yelling for me.” Yet another lie. “I’ve got to go.”
Before shutting her laptop, she cleared the browser history to be safe, then slid open the back door.
“We’re not quite done here,” the detective said.
“I think you are,” she said.
Kelsey looked at her with a wrinkled brow. “It’s fine, May. Everything’s good.”
“He hasn’t been honest with us, have you, Detective? Out of an abundance of caution, I don’t think any of us should talk to you right now. You’ve obviously come here with some kind of agenda and used deception to get us to speak with you.”
He scratched at the thin layer of stubble on his jaw. “Funny you should mention deception. Your friend here just admitted she wrote that note I asked you about, which means she hasn’t been honest with you—and I for one would like to know why.”
She felt her eyes begin to water as she locked her gaze with Kelsey’s. Kelsey pressed her lips together and gave her the slightest nod.
She could see immediately what Kelsey had done. When Lauren suggested they could just tell the detective about the note, May had been the one to point out that she had already lied to the police and could be disbarred for it.
Kelsey must have admitted to writing and leaving the note on her own. And she hadn’t told them she was planning to throw herself under the bus because they would have tried to stop her—or at least she had believed they would. Would they have? May wasn’t so sure. Kelsey was the one who had gotten them into this entire mess. Maybe she was making the right call. It was a stand-up move. But it was also incredibly stupid given what May had just learned.
She swallowed and shifted her focus to Detective Carter. “Kelsey, don’t say another word!”
Carter placed both palms on the table, staring at Kelsey intently. “Make your own decision here, Kelsey. It really doesn’t look good if you can’t answer a few questions about how you happened to guess that a total stranger who stole your parking spot was cheating on his girlfriend. Sounds like you knew him a lot better than you are saying, and now that man has gone missing. Add to that the whole mystery of your husband’s death, and, well, that’s a lot of coincidences with you as the connection.”
“Don’t reply to that, Kelsey.” May reached for Kelsey’s hand. If she had to pull her out of that chair to get her inside and away from this detective, so be it.
“What’s going on down here?” Lauren asked, opening the back slider. “I could hear you all the way upstairs.”
“He’s been lying to us,” May said. “She’s not speaking to you any further, Detective.”
“She can’t mess this up for all of you. Think about your own situations. Your own reputations. This doesn’t look good.”
Lauren folded her arms. “That sounds like you’re threatening us with retaliation if we exercise our constitutional rights, which is why I definitely won’t be exchanging further words with you.”
Carter addressed Kelsey as he rose from his seat. “It would help to get your side of the story—”
“I’m going to listen to my lawyer friend for now,” she said quietly, her gaze glued to her lap. “I can’t believe you brought up Luke.”
They were a united front.
The detective paused as he reached the door and turned to face them, clicking his tongue twice. “The three of you just got a lot more interesting to me.”
After they heard the sound of his car engine, Lauren spoke first. “What the fuck was that?”
“I told him I wrote the note,” Kelsey blurted. “Because of the parking spot. That I wrote it myself and left it there after you guys went to the bookstore and that you didn’t know anything about it.”
“Oh, Kelsey.” Lauren closed her eyes.
“That’s not the biggest problem,” May said. “I stopped the interview because David Smith is dead, and if that detective didn’t tell us that, he thinks we’re involved somehow.”
The sun-kissed pink drained from Kelsey’s face. “He’s…dead?” Her breath sounded uneven.
“I’m pretty sure,” May said. “A couple friends posted RIP notes on his Instagram.” She retrieved her laptop from the kitchen and turned the screen to face them.
Just heard the news. I can’t believe you’re gone. Sending love to you, Mrs. Smith. Someone named Megan Levy.
I’m broken. Best friend a guy could ask for. RIP, my brother. Simon Bowlby.
The scream that came from Kelsey’s throat was visceral. It brought back memories of that horrible sound that had come out of May on the subway platform, a noise she didn’t even know she was capable of making until she saw the video. Kelsey moved to the outdoor sofa and grabbed a throw pillow, holding it to her face as she yelled into it.
Lauren stood behind Kelsey and rubbed her back. “Honey, calm down. It’s going to be okay.”
Kelsey’s shoulders were shaking as she sobbed into the pillow.
“Lauren’s right,” May offered. “It’ll be all right. It was just a stupid note. A practical joke. It’s not a crime. And you told the truth. That cop can’t do anything to you.”
Kelsey sniffed, trying to catch her breath as she wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “None of that matters. Oh my god, my life is over.”
Lauren looked to May. She seemed as confused as May felt.
“Why would you say that?” Lauren said. “What are you afraid of?”
The question made Kelsey begin crying again. “Talk to us,” May said. “We’re here for you. Is there something we don’t know?”
Kelsey dropped her head into her palms. “Don’t you see? What he said about Luke? And now David Smith is dead too? How could this happen? They’re going to say I killed them both. I can’t go through it all over again.”