Chapter 42

Since Alex stopped drinking, she’d had precisely zero fights with her husband, but that could change if they couldn’t come to terms about Lettie.

It all started with a seemingly innocuous comment from Nick one afternoon. “I’ve asked her to go to a movie and out to lunch, but she’s always busy. It feels like she’s avoiding me.”

“Just keep trying to connect,” Alex said. “She needs us.”

“Sure,” said Nick. “On her terms.”

“Exactly,” said Alex. “And that means giving up some control.”

“Okay, the next time you can’t sleep because she’s not home, I’ll simply remind you that you gave up control.” Nick cocked an eyebrow with a “gotcha” kind of grin.

“I’m her mother,” Alex said. “The rules don’t apply to me. But on a serious note, you’ve been pretty strict with her for some time—so maybe she has lingering resentments?”

“What? You mean last summer or with college? She’s fine going to UMass. She didn’t get into USC, so it’s settled.”

“She seemed weirdly unfazed about the rejection, don’t you think?” Alex said. “Something’s up with her. Maybe she was relieved she didn’t have to confront you about the money, but her reaction was still odd to me. I’m going to call USC admissions next week, find out if there’s more to this story than we know. But perhaps you two need to have a talk about it as well.”

Alex left the conversation feeling somewhat victorious, but she’d neglected to mention that she and Lettie were close to having a big blowout of their own—this one over the stolen necklace. Alex wanted to tell Emily about the blackmailer, while Lettie, fearing Dylan would never forgive her for breaking a confidence, did not.

Alex had consulted her therapist for guidance.

The therapist wasn’t at all conflicted. “Your sister needs to know about the blackmailer,” she had said.

So, a few days later, Alex told her. But she did so with a plan, or more like an approach, that might prevent further emotional turmoil.

“I thought it was strange that Dylan found it behind my dresser. So he took my necklace to pay someone off?” Emily couldn’t believe her ears. “What do they have on him? Who blackmailed him?”

“Lettie doesn’t know, and she says he’s not under threat anymore,” said Alex. “Even so, Jay Kumar is still trying to figure out who was behind it. But Em, Dylan’s in a delicate place. Revealing his big secret might be detrimental to his recovery. We need to proceed with caution. Lettie is going to encourage Dylan to open up to us. Since there’s no threat, let’s just give it some time.”

“I guess,” said Emily.

“And maybe we should keep all this from Ken for a little while. He and Dylan are on rocky ground as it is. If Dylan’s behavior changes drastically or we see something out of the ordinary, it could mean the blackmailer has come back, and we’ll have to be more direct.”

Emily thanked her sister for the plan and her honesty, which led to some honesty of her own. “Ken doesn’t understand why I’m not interested in sex anymore, especially since Samir’s visit. He insists it’s totally innocent between him and Mandy—that he went to her place trying to help Dylan. Who’d believe that crap? When I’m certain Dylan is stable, when I know he’s going to be all right, and this blackmailing nonsense is behind us, I’m going to divorce him.”

For Alex, this was a bombshell.

Emily, however, seemed to have no doubts. “This is between us sisters,” she said.

“I’ll support you in every way I can,” Alex said. The two shared a hug, Alex feeling extra grateful that the secrets she carried about Ken didn’t matter much anymore.


On the Friday before the block party, Alex was thinking of that conversation with her sister when she saw, of all things, Evan Thompson’s car coming down Alton Road. She was out front with Nick, trying to make the lawn look nice, when she spied his familiar BMW.

Nick had just finished pushing a wheelbarrow full of mulch up the driveway. He huffed like Sisyphus, hauling his stone up the hill. His white shirt—goodness knew why he’d picked that color to do yard work—was smeared with dirt. Sweat dripped from his brow. Mud streaked down his cheeks, looking like hastily applied war paint.

Alex thought he looked adorable as she worked the rake to spread his piles of mulch evenly in the garden bed. Finally, spring had sprung. The trees had their leaves again, and April’s showers had indeed brought May flowers. Flowers weren’t the only thing in bloom. Since she put down the bottle, the closeness Alex had once felt with her husband was slowly returning.

Only moments ago, she was breathing in the fragrant air, letting it soak into her lungs as it warmed her from the inside out. Nearby, Zoe sunned herself on the grass. Lettie was off somewhere. Alex didn’t ask too many questions.

All was good in her world. Finally. For once. One day at a time.

But now Evan was here. Warning bells rang in her head. Alex didn’t think he’d set foot on Alton Road since he’d moved out of the house. Maybe he’d come to talk to Willow. She had told him about Riley’s pill habit and the older boy she was seeing. They certainly had plenty to discuss.

According to Willow, Riley had admitted to dating someone in college, but claimed the relationship was over. She hadn’t told her parents because she knew they wouldn’t have approved of the age difference. As Riley explained it, they’d broken up a month ago, but Evan wasn’t buying it. He thought his daughter was still involved, and that this man was her source for the narcotics she denied taking.

“What’s he doing?” Nick asked, smearing dirt across his forehead as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I thought he wasn’t allowed back here. Or did Willow have a change of heart?”

“He told Willow he was going to find out the name of that college boy Riley was with because he’s convinced that’s her supplier. I’m like, whatever—just look in the mirror for that. But maybe she’s got another source, so could be he’s got some information to share.”

Or maybe he knows about the Wookiee, Alex thought. Willow had sworn she wasn’t going to tell him, but it could be that he found out on his own.

Evan drove by with a fixed gaze, not bothering to acknowledge Alex or Nick, who gave him a halfhearted wave. He seemed completely oblivious to their presence.

He made one slow trip around the cul-de-sac, his car zigzagging in the kind of erratic driving that would get him pulled over. Instead of navigating into the driveway of his former home, Evan drove by it without slowing, only to apply the brakes as he passed in front of Brooke’s house. He didn’t come to a full stop, however, and after making one complete revolution around the cul-de-sac, he began a second circumnavigation.

“What the hell? Is he high?” Nick asked.

They watched, and as Evan came around the bend, Alex got a better look at his vacant, glassy stare. “I’m going to go with yes and very,” she said.

“Um, should we call the cops?” Nick asked.

Alex wasn’t sure what to do. They kept watching Evan make his ponderous circles.

Movement in a window across the street drew her attention away from the BMW and toward the Kumar home, where Mandy was observing the scene from a first-floor window.

The light was just right to allow Alex a clear view of her neighbor. The two women’s eyes met. Alex raised her hands, as if to say to Mandy that she had no idea what was going on. Mandy returned a shrug, but Samir appeared in the window beside her. Alex could see him scowl even from a distance and watched as he pulled Mandy away.

Samir’s behavior concerned her less than Evan’s, who was now on drive-by number five, or maybe it was six—Alex had lost count. With each trip around the cul-de-sac, Evan slowed down in front of Brooke’s house before speeding up again to make another pass. His driving seemed to be getting worse as he continued his rotations.

Alex positioned herself at the edge of the sidewalk to try to get Evan’s attention, when she caught sight of Brooke, who had emerged from her house. Standing at the end of her driveway, Brooke waved at Evan. This time he put on the brakes, coming to a full stop in front of her.

Alex kept close watch as Brooke leaned her nearly flawless form into the open passenger-side window. She spoke to Evan at some length, but Alex couldn’t hear the exchange.

Without warning, Evan hit the accelerator hard. With a squeal of tires, the car lurched forward, Brooke’s body still halfway inside the vehicle. If it hadn’t been for her quick reflexes, Brooke might not have extracted herself in time. She jumped back to a safe distance as Evan sped away.

Brooke hurried over to Alex, breathless.

“Are you all right?” asked Alex.

“I’m fine,” Brooke said. “Do you have a phone? We need to call the cops. Evan’s not in his right mind, and he shouldn’t be driving.”

“Do we have his license plate?” Nick asked.

Alex shook her head. Even after all those trips around the circle, she couldn’t recite a single number.

“No worries.” Nick turned to go. “We know the make and model. I’ll call from the house.”

“What was that all about?” Alex asked when she and Brooke were alone. “What did he say to you?”

“He was talking all kinds of nonsense. He thinks we’re meant to be together. He can’t live without me. He was just going on and on. I told him he needs help. That he’s not well. He doesn’t look right to me. I think the drugs are affecting his brain.”

“Are you worried, Brooke? Do you think he might—you know, try to hurt you?”

Brooke’s confidence had disappeared. “I don’t know,” she said. “It all started when I asked him to take pictures of me for OnlyFans. He’s a professional, and I wanted my shots to look good. I figured he’d do the job without getting attached. He’s done this kind of work plenty of times. When he started making overtures, I told him that we were done—that he couldn’t be my photographer anymore.

“I think that’s when his obsession kicked in. I felt bad for him, but I was never afraid of him. I just didn’t want to lead him on. Now it’s different. It felt safer when he was the secret stalker. Since it all came out in the open, something’s shifted. He feels a lot more menacing.”

“Maybe go talk to the police,” Alex said. “Ask what you can do to protect yourself.”

“I have all the protection I need from my friends Smith & Wesson.”

Alex’s jaw fell open. “You have a gun?”

“Sure,” said Brooke. “I sleep better at night with it in my bedside table—and with all the craziness in our neighborhood, can you blame me?”

“Speaking of crazy,” Alex said, “just now I saw Samir literally pull Mandy away from the window where she was watching Evan.”

“What is up with the men on Alton Road?” Brooke sounded more annoyed than distressed. “When did they all go nuts?”

Alex felt the need to tell Brooke about the confrontation between Samir and Ken over secret liaisons with Mandy.

“That reminds me,” said Brooke. “I started digging into Samir’s background, looking online, searching for anything concerning—like past charges of domestic violence, restraining orders, that kind of thing. I have to say, I didn’t find too much—just the usual: LinkedIn posts, some past employment info, but nothing noteworthy or nefarious. I did, however, stumble across their wedding announcement. I guess he and Mandy have been married over twenty years. Her maiden name was Gibson—Amanda Gibson.”

“Interesting,” Alex said. “That’s how Ken referred to her when she came to pick up Jay at the hospital. He called her Amanda. What do you make of that?”

Brooke answered in a low voice: “I’d say at the very least, Ken seems to know Mandy a lot better than we do.”

This left Alex feeling deeply unsettled. As Brooke walked away, Alex’s phone rang. The number that came up was unfamiliar to her.

“Hello, this is Alex,” she said.

“Alex, it’s Meg Ruley from USC admissions returning your call from earlier today. Sorry it’s taken a bit to get back to you. Crazy time of year.”

Alex brightened. “Yes, of course. And thanks for the call. I was just curious for more information on my daughter’s rejection. Not sure what you can share, but like I said on my voice mail, her reaction was odd, so I’m just wondering if there’s more to the story than I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, I checked into that,” Meg said hesitantly. “I guess there really is some confusion … your daughter was accepted to the university. And there’s still a slot for her if she wants to take it.”

Alex felt a pulse of anger come and go. Lettie had lied to her, obviously, but this wasn’t about Lettie—it was about Nick. “Thank you for letting me know,” Alex said in a measured tone. “Yes, some misunderstanding for sure. We’ll have a family meeting, and I’ll be back in touch.”

She ended the call feeling a storm was coming, a dark, swirling eddy of threatening clouds. A thought tingled at the back of her mind. She was going to have a candid, difficult conversation with Nick, but she knew how stubborn he could be. A different worry followed, a gnawing little fear that depending on how that talk went, it might not be so easy to avoid a drink … maybe two … at the block party.