A Good Marriage

by Kimberly McCreight

  “Maude, please,” Sebe whispered, then closed his eyes. “Stop.”

  She squeezed his hand again, until he opened his eyes. “I love you, Sebe. But there isn’t going to be any way through this except with the truth.” Maude turned back to look at me. “I’m not saying it was Zach himself who contacted Sophia. According to that security company, there were probably a bunch of different people doing the actual hacking. And Sophia said she got the feeling it was somebody younger who was messaging her. But it doesn’t really matter: Zach, given who he was, must have been in charge—it’s all his responsibility. Everything that happened is. Sophia is fifteen years old, and that man had her performing live sex acts on camera.” She blanched, then closed her eyes. “He probably recorded them.”

  Zach had been hacking into the neighborhood parents’ computers? It was possible. He’d have the technological know-how. From what that New York Times profile had described, logistics involved a lot of personal information, didn’t it? And at this point Zach certainly seemed capable of anything. The financial disclosure, Sam’s drinking—had he hacked into our computer, too?

  “What happened after you couldn’t find Zach at the party?” I asked, trying to stay focused. I still needed hard evidence to clear Sam.

  “I’ll admit it: I was out of my mind. In a complete rage. I was going to make Zach admit what I was sure he’d done to Sophia. Somebody said he’d gone home, so I went to his house to find him. But when I got to Zach and Amanda’s, no one was there. I wasn’t about to give up, though. I decided to go in and get those emails that Amanda had talked about. I was going to go to the police with them. I figured it would be enough—at least for them to look into Zach and the hacking. And I’d seen once where Amanda kept her spare key.”

  “I wish you’d told me you were going, Maude,” Sebe said quietly.

  “You were upstairs talking to Amanda. Somebody said she ran upstairs, and you followed,” Maude said, so certain, it seemed, that they were only talking—she and Sebe did have their limits, after all. “And I wanted to go while Amanda was here and not at home. I didn’t want to lose it on Zach in front of her. I knew she’d feel responsible. Besides, you would have stopped me.”

  “But Amanda came home while you were in the house?” I asked.

  An accident. That had to be where all of this was going. Maude hit Amanda by accident somehow.

  “I wasn’t sure at first. I’d stupidly left the door unlocked behind me, and I was upstairs in Zach’s office when I heard somebody come in. I’d only been in there a second; it took me a while to find the office,” she said. “Anyway, as soon as I heard someone I ducked into the closet. It wasn’t until I was in there that I saw the golf bag.”

  “Maude,” Sebe whispered, wincing.

  “Sophia almost killed herself, Sebe,” Maude pleaded. She looked from Sebe to me. “We have her at an inpatient facility right now. Hopefully, she’ll be okay. Teenagers are resilient. But who knows. And for what? You know, that guy is still contacting her, which I guess proves it wasn’t Zach himself, given that he’s in Rikers. I also heard another parent just got one of those blackmailing emails yesterday for the first time. Zach may be in jail, but his soldiers are keeping on with their work. What if they’re doing the same thing to other girls?”

  I refuse to lose. I could hear Zach’s voice in my head from all those years ago. But to what end had Zach done all of it? Surely not for cash. He wasn’t going to get enough that way. And Zach didn’t do anything for pure entertainment value. Whatever Zach was doing, I had no doubt his intent was to put himself back on top. And I knew Zach well enough to know: he could care less who had to lose, as long as he was the one to win.

  “What happened after you saw the golf clubs?” I asked.

  Maude had mistaken Amanda for Zach. It had to be.

  “I pulled one out and held it. I imagined swinging it at Zach’s head.” Maude looked squarely at me then, her eyes defiant, fists clenched. “And I know, I didn’t even have actual hard evidence. But in that moment, I felt so, so sure. And all I could think about was how much I wanted Zach dead.”

  KRELL INDUSTRIES

  CONFIDENTIAL MEMORANDUM NOT FOR DISTRIBUTION

  Attorney-Client Work Product

  Privileged & Confidential

  July 9

  To: Brooklyn Country Day Board of Directors

  From: Krell Industries

  Subject: Data Breach & Cyber Incident Investigation—Critical Event Report

  The memorandum should serve to notify the board that the recommended forensic examination of Subject Family 0006 computer is now complete. Numerous pornographic images were located on the computer in question. These images were removed, and placed on a jump drive at FPP request for further investigation within Subject Family.

  Despite Krell having conducted the desired forensic analysis, it remains the FPP position that the pornography must have been placed onto the family computer by the hackers in question.

  JIA explained that there is clear evidence this is not the case. That the pornographic material was downloaded to the computer over many months preceding the alleged hacking.

  However, FPP has continued to threaten legal action, or, alternatively, public disclosure of the security breach, specifically that she will contact local media.

  We believe it imperative, under the circumstances, that the board be made aware of the identity of Family 0006, as the situation continues to evolve. They are Sarah Novak and Kerry Tanner.

  Amanda

  THE PARTY

  Amanda didn’t look back over her shoulder or down at her phone again until she’d gotten to her front steps. Luckily, there was no one behind her, and there were no new texts. Amanda dared to hope for a moment that she’d imagined the others. But when she finally got to the top of her stoop and checked, all the disgusting, frightening messages she’d gotten earlier from her dad were still there. She deleted every last one of them.

  When Amanda turned her key, the lock didn’t make its usual pop. Zach was home? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d used work as an excuse to leave someplace.

  But as soon as Amanda opened the door, she noticed the foyer chair pushed slightly to the side. Like someone drunk had stumbled into it. Zach didn’t drink, and he wasn’t clumsy. There were a couple of lights on—at the top of the steps, and the front of the living room—but it was pretty dark. Amanda’s heart again took flight.

  “Zach!” Amanda called out as she headed for the stairs. Not a sound as she made her way halfway up. “Zach!”

  Her daddy had been good at picking locks once upon a time, hadn’t he? And he was determined. If he wanted in her house, he could easily have found a way.

  “Zach!” she called out again, about to turn back down the steps. She should leave. Go somepla—

  A hand slammed over Amanda’s mouth, a leather glove on her lips. She could smell it. She could taste it. Her head was jerked back so hard, she thought her neck might snap. Her dad smelled musky. Like an animal.

  “Calm down!” A hoarse whisper—her dad disguising his voice. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She tried to pull her head to the side, to get out from under his huge hand, but he yanked her head back even harder this time. She yelped in pain.

  This was it. Where all this had been headed. Her dad wasn’t going to let her go this time. This wasn’t just some random burglar who would take off if she only did as she was told. Her dad had come to finish what he’d started—to kill her. She could feel the rage in his grip, too. Amanda needed to make noise. She needed to scream. And so she did. She screamed as loud as she could. She tried to kick and fight. But the sound was muffled under his hand, and he was so strong. She could barely move.

  “Hey! Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to let you go.”

  But that was a lie. Amanda knew it was. She knew her dad. He had hurt her before, over and over again. He had hurt the only person on earth who had loved her besides
her mother: Carolyn. He had done that. He had. It was starting to come back to her.

  Amanda tried to bite his fingers. But his hand was clamped over her mouth so hard, she couldn’t even open her lips. There was a taste, too. Blood. Her teeth were tearing at the insides of her cheeks. And she could feel her earring being ripped out as she struggled.

  He’d never let her go. She’d have to kill him. She could, too. She’d done it once before, hadn’t she? Yes—she remembered it all now—Carolyn motionless under him in the bathroom. The razor, the blood all over Amanda’s seafoam taffeta dress. How cold and wet it had been when she raced through the woods to Norma’s for help. How the soles of her feet had burned, the branches and rocks slicing into them.

  Case. The name hit her like a bolt of electricity. She loved her son more than her own life. She’d survive for him. She’d kill her dad again now to protect him. She’d kill him as many times as she had to. Anything for Case. Amanda flung an elbow back, whacking into his stomach, soft after all these years.

  “Fuck.” He coughed, releasing his grip a little. She kicked him as hard as she could in the knee. “Fuck!”

  He released again for a second, and Amanda lunged forward up a few more steps. Her only path was up. He was blocking the way down.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he roared. “All you had to do was listen.”

  Heavy feet right behind her. And the sour heat of him. Amanda was almost at the top of the stairs now, almost where she could turn and run down the hall. Lock the bedroom door. Call the police. Scamper out a window. They had that big tree out front. Maybe she could reach it.

  But then a thousand needles being driven into her scalp. He’d grabbed her ponytail. She tried once more to get free. He was above her on the stairs now. She jerked to the side and screamed, “Let go of me, you disgusting pig!”

  Then, a shove. Hands on her back. Just a little. But enough. And there at the top of the steps, she was suddenly and so unexpectedly free.

  In free fall. Picking up speed. Amanda reached out to stop herself, even as she thought, No, don’t. Her arm cracked against the metal handrail, but she did not slow down. And then the wind was knocked hard out of her. Amanda was on the ground. Stars exploding overhead, then blackness.

  Light. Amanda was on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Pain everywhere. But alive. A chance. Her eyes were blurry and wet. Something—or someone—was there near the top of the stairs. All in black, and with the ski mask. So big and tall. Blocking the light the way he always had. Amanda needed to get up. She needed to run. And she could. She had survived all this time. She could survive again. She would. For Case.

  Amanda pushed herself to her feet but slipped. What was that all over the floor? She cracked her head against the railing as she went down again. The floor was wet and warm and so slippery. Her vision was clouded. But she saw red. All over the floor. And him, standing there above.

  Amanda pushed herself up a second time. She could see him still at the top of the stairs, through the water in her eyes. It tasted of iron.

  Then again she was down. Her head smacking hard against the metal edge of the stairs this time. She needed to stop hitting her head. Or something—more stars. Case. He loved stars. So many, too. Like that night she raced away from St. Colomb Falls, top down, wind in her hair. Alive. Free. The stars. And then the dark.

  And then—

  Lizzie

  JULY 12, SUNDAY

  “Was it Amanda,” I asked, “that you heard downstairs while you were in the office closet?”

  “No, it was definitely somebody else at first,” Maude said. “Because then I heard a second person come in. That was Amanda. She called out right away for Zach. I thought there was a chance it was Zach who’d come in first, that maybe I’d have to wait there in the closet until they’d gone to bed, and then slip out. To be honest, I was thinking I’d keep looking for the emails maybe, or some other proof of what I was sure Zach had done. I was utterly consumed.” Maude’s voice caught, and then she fell silent.

  I tried to be patient, to let her take her time in getting the rest of the story out. But I couldn’t wait any longer. All I could think about was Sam’s face. I needed her to say the words: I did it.

  “And then what?” I asked.

  Amanda had panicked in the midst of one of her delusions and had fallen down the steps? An awful, tragic accident that—as far as I was concerned—remained Zach’s fault.

  “Amanda screamed. And it was such a horrible, frantic sound—like nothing I’d ever heard. There were other noises, too, grunting and this awful scrambling. Like an animal. Then there was a really loud crash. I wanted to help. I had the golf club already, but when I tried the closet door, it was stuck—I couldn’t get out. I thought maybe somebody had locked me in there.” Her voice broke again. “I heard crashing, another scream—maybe more than one. By the time I finally got the door open and was down the first set of steps, I saw—I saw Amanda at the bottom of the lower staircase. I only caught a glimpse of a man running out.”

  “Wait, there was a man?”

  Fuck.

  “Yes, definitely. Like I said, I only saw him for a split second. And he had on dark clothes and a horribly creepy ski mask, so I couldn’t see his face. But I’m convinced it wasn’t Zach. As much as I hate him, I’m sure it wasn’t. I saw Zach across the room at my party. He’s noticeably short. Shorter than me. This man was much taller.”

  Sam was tall. But this guy had come with a ski mask? Could the monster in Sam’s cage be that bad?

  “Not just tall.” Maude held her arms out, demonstrating. “Big, too. At least I think. I’m less sure about that. I only saw him for a second, and he was already turning around.”

  Sam wasn’t big like that, was he? No, but Xavier Lynch was. Shit. I’d been so quick to write him off entirely because his story was true. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved somehow. At least, theoretically.

  “Nothing else identifying?” I pressed, trying to sound calm.

  “Amanda was all I could see.” Maude was ashen now. “There was so much blood, too. Everywhere at the bottom of the steps. I raced down, and she didn’t have a pulse. I started CPR, right away. I know how to do it. And I called Sebe. I was going to call nine-one-one, too, but then I looked down, and there was blood all over me. My hands, my arms, my shirt. I think it was on my face. And the golf club that I’d been holding with my fingerprints all over it? It was on the ground in Amanda’s blood. How was I going to explain any of that to the police? How could I explain why I was in the house in the first place, and hiding in a closet? My prints would have been in there, too. I’m sorry, I know I should have called them anyway. But all I could think about was Sophia needing me and I panicked.”

  “I was there faster than an ambulance would have been anyway,” Sebe said. “And I can assure you that Amanda was dead when I arrived. Her head wounds were very traumatic. I think the result of multiple impacts. Maybe that man hit her with something, or maybe she hit her head by falling more than once. Even postmortem it would be difficult to tell the difference between the long side of a golf club and the rounded metal edge of those stairs. You could see in the blood where somebody had slipped. It could have been Amanda.”

  “There was so much blood,” Maude said again. “Sebe had to physically lift me out so I didn’t track it everywhere. I didn’t leave the golf club there on purpose to confuse things either. I want to make that clear. I dropped it when I tried to help Amanda. And I was so sure they’d come for me anyway, once they found it. My prints must have been all over it. But then they didn’t come, even after I stupidly slipped and mentioned the golf club to Sarah. To be honest, for a little while I thought it was justice if Zach went to jail for Amanda’s murder after what he did to Sophia.” She shook her head. “But once he was getting beaten up, I knew I couldn’t be that person, couldn’t let him get killed, not with Case. And then I thought about whoever it was who had really hurt Amanda. The fact that he was st
ill out there because they’d arrested Zach …. So I gave Zach the alibi.” She looked up at me, her eyes aglow once more. “I didn’t actually mean to imply that we’d had sex. In the context of the party, you assumed, which was understandable …” Maude grimaced. “After everything with Sophia, that made me absolutely sick. Not that the alibi mattered in the end.”

  “And you have no idea who the man in Amanda’s house was?” I asked.

  “All I know is that he was big and wearing all black. I was at the top of the steps, and he took off right away. I didn’t see much. Oh, and he also had on these red sneakers.”

  My breath caught. Sam’s basketball sneakers are white. Sam’s basketball sneakers are white.

  “Red sneakers?” I asked. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, they were very noticeable,” Maude said. “Red high-tops.”

  I held my breath, legs trembling, impatiently counting the floors as the Young & Crane elevator glided up. It was obvious now that I’d had too much riding on Maude’s fingerprints. I’d been so sure they’d do all the work: prove that Maude had killed Amanda—accidentally—thereby exonerating Zach. And clearing Sam. As it turned out, Maude’s fingerprints had given me only a witness to the crime and a vague partial description of the actual killer: male and large, with red sneakers.

  Xavier Lynch. He was still a totally reasonable possibility, at least I was determined for him to be. Maybe he’d been after Amanda’s money or had some other twisted reason for killing her. He’d hinted at a criminal past. I’d call the St. Colomb Falls police department. Someone there could easily know more about him. It was a small town.

  I considered texting Sam, too, but to say what? Good news! I’ve almost proved you’re not a murderer! In my defense, Sam had seemed pretty worried he was a murderer, too.