Danielle laughs and downs her drink. “She’s funny, right?”
Once we are free of the pair Danielle laughs again, this time for real. “You’re evil. I love you.”
“It was an accident.”
“Liar,” she teases.
A few hours later, Danielle and I are standing near the door when my father corners us, or rather me, and snaps. “What the fuck was that?”
“I got confused. I’m sorry.”
“You are not as stupid as you pretend to be. Don’t cross me. There’s a lot more than you on the line.” And then he walks away.
Danielle looks at me, and as if nothing had happened, says, “Want to get some dessert?”
I blink fully back to the present and stare at the message. I don’t want to talk to Megan anymore. I stick my phone in my pocket.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The famous poet and philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “There is an optical illusion about every person we meet.” In other words, I’m not the only one who is a sum of a dozen lies. Perhaps the biggest lie of all is when we pretend we don’t know lies exist as a necessary vein of life to the point that we do not believe they are real anymore. Denial becomes the ultimate illusion or no—it’s truth that is the illusion. Our own denial might even make everyone else’s lies seem worse than our own, bigger, grander, more nefarious when the truth is far simpler. The most nefarious lies are the ones that everyone finds out about.
***
THE PAST…
My class that I normally love drags on forever, and when I finally leave my art room to find Logan nowhere in sight, I know he will be outside waiting for me. I am eager to leave, and my goodbyes are quick. I hurry to the door, exiting and sure enough, Logan—still in the same suit I’d seen him in earlier, is leaning on the wall by the door, waiting on me.
“Hi,” I say, turning to face him.
“Hi,” he says, pushing off the wall to face me and this time I don’t feel the need to back away and I know why. Just having him here calms me down. It’s his energy, I think. He’s strong but not cutting. He’s steady. He’s reliable. He does what he says he will do when no one else in my life does. “You okay?” he asks.
“Now I am,” I say, meaning it. And he’s the only person I’ve ever said that to. “Any news?”
“Let’s walk.”
“Okay.”
We turn and fall into step, walking several feet without words. I sense hesitation in him, something he doesn’t want to say. “Just say what you want to say.”
He motions to a bench and we sit down. Close. We sit close, which tells me he’s not withdrawing. He’s still in this with me. “I don’t have a problem with your people coming after me, if that’s what you think.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, but while I’m not close to my father, I don’t want him attacked.”
“Protecting your own,” I say. “God. There’s a concept.”
“I’m not saying I won’t help.”
“I know and honestly, it’s refreshing that you’re worried about your father, and that you’re vocal about it. I get it, too. Protect him. Just do this, please. Promise me that if I die, you’ll go after him with the photos. I have a trust fund coming to me at thirty. I’ll will the money to you and—”
“This isn’t about money. I have money invested diversely enough that no one can attack me and wipe me out. I learned that lesson from my father. I’m going to help you, but we need to do this through a third-party and well-shielded for both our sakes. That is going to take some time.”
“There isn’t a lot of time.”
“Here’s what I know: If he’s damaged and the opposing party feels it’s damning, they will let him earn his party nomination. They want him locked in so the pain comes when he can’t be replaced. But Hailey, we’re talking about destroying your father. Is that what you really want?”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes. How many times do you need me to say it?”
He studies me several long moments and then nods. “Okay. I’ll make the proper calls.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I don’t even think about looking at it.
He lifts a brow. “You need to check that?”
“It’s Megan. She’s being very—frustrating. I’ve hit a limit.” And for no reason other than I don’t want him to feel distrust, something I live with, I grab it. “She walked out on Michelle,” I say, glancing at the message that reads: No reply? The truth never did work for you.
Unease rolls through me. This is not Megan. I look up at Logan and force myself to read him some of the earlier messages, the ones I thought were about him: I was in love with him. I glance at him, expectantly, but I know what his reply will be.
He shakes his head. “That is not about me. I barely know Megan and if it is about me, she’s scaring me, and you need to stop talking to her. Get someone involved who can handle her.”
“I tried. We have no contact information at all.”
His phone buzzes and he grabs it, glancing at a message before putting it away. “My client just had the police show up at his door with a search warrant. I’m going to have to go.”
“That sounds like a criminal case.”
“It does now,” he says, “but he pays me well enough that I’m going to step up and get him help.” He stands and offers me his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
I stare at his hand, hesitating, this sense that the minute I take it, I’ve formed one truce, and left everything else in my life behind. But I still take it. I let him pull me to my feet and when my eyes meet his, I know I’m right. This was the moment he decided I was with him and he was with me. His phone buzzes again and he releases me. “Go,” I say. “I’m close to home. Take care of your client. You can call me later if you want.”
His eyes warm. “I will.”
He turns and starts walking and my phone buzzes in my hand. I look at the message: You know who this is. We both know you know who this is. Washington Park. It’s walkable for you right now. The boathouse at Smith Lake.
My heart leaps and blood rushes in my ears. I dial Danielle’s father. “Hello,” he answers as I hang up. He said he saw the body. I’m crazy. This isn’t Danielle. Megan must have figured out who I am and she’s lashing out at me. I don’t want to hurt him.
I inhale and consider my options. If it’s Megan, and it has to be, she’s crazy, and I need help. I dial Jake. He doesn’t answer. I dial him again. I leave a message. “I need you. Desperately. I have a problem. Meet me at Washington Park at the boathouse at Smith Lake. I know this sounds crazy, but I think it’s Danielle. I think she needs help. I need help. Meet me there.”
My phone buzzes again and I glance down to read: Come now or I will tell the world what happened in Europe, the real truth. Why wouldn’t I? I have nothing left to lose.
My heart freezes and shatters into a million pieces. It is Danielle. I don’t know how, but it is because no one else knows that secret. I dial Jake back. This time he answers. “Talk to me,” he says. “What’s going on?”
“Meet me at the house instead of the park. Can you?”
“Yes. What is this?”
“Not on the phone,” I say.
“Okay. I’ll be there.” He hangs up.
I start walking. I need to get to Danielle and zip her mouth before Jake decides to look for me at the park, after all. I pull up google maps and directions to the boathouse, and damn it my hand is shaking, but I find it. I start walking, nearly running. It’s eleven o’clock, and a weeknight, the streets nearly vacant which makes me easy to follow. I can’t be followed. I turn into a Mexican joint, and I walk to the back door exiting to the alleyway and waste no time darting behind cars, zipping in and out, until I’m down another alleyway, and into a neighborhood. It’s a starless, moonless night, and the street is dark, trees offering shadows, yards pitch black. That’s where I stick. People’s yards, out
of view.
Finally, I make it to the park, and I stand on the opposite side of the highway staring at the boathouse. I unzip my purse, readying my gun but I don’t reach for it. This is Danielle. I am not going to kill my best friend. I’m going to hug her and help her. I dash across the highway and head toward the lake, walking the long path around it, under trees and into the shadows but I never make it all the way. Danielle steps into my path, looking frail and thin, her hair a mess, her face gaunt.
“My God,” I breath out. “You’re really—I can’t believe your alive.” I step toward her and she holds up a gun, pointing it at me.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warns, her voice quaking. “You called him. You ruined my life. It’s always been about you. Europe. You made me lie.”
I hold up my hands. “Easy, Danielle,” I say. “I didn’t make you lie. I didn’t make you do anything. You’re not thinking straight. Let me help you.”
“No. No, I’m done with your help.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” I say. “Make me understand. Your father said he saw your body.”
“Because Terrance, being Chief of Staff and all for your father, convinced me that your father loved me and if I loved him I had to disappear for a while. Because you knew about us and you had to be controlled. Because you were upset. But when I got to New Zealand and my mother tried to commit me. Five million dollars they paid her to commit me. They were made to believe that I’d done terrible things that I didn’t do. They believed I did those things. My own parents.”
“But your mother didn’t commit you,” I say.
“Oh, she tried.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she’s no longer with us. I found a cliff. We’re good at that right?”
“No,” I say. “We are not. Let’s go somewhere. Let’s talk. Let’s figure this out. I’ll help you. You know I always help you.”
Her face messes up, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. “But you didn’t help. All I did was fall in love with him.”
“I didn’t know what they did to you. I swear to you.”
“You promise?”
“You know me. That’s why you’re here. You know deep down, I’ll help.”
“Yes,” she breathes out, the gun lowering.
I take a step toward her just as footsteps sound and Danielle jerks the gun up and toward the sound but it’s too late. A gun fires and Danielle falls to the ground. “No!” I scream, as the man who fired steps into view and to my shock, it turns out to be Tobey. “Tobey! What have you done? What the hell have you done?”
I start toward Danielle but he’s suddenly in front of me, pointing the gun. “What my father, Chief of Staff, should have done. Killed her. That’s what your father wanted. Now it’s done. Now you die, and the rest of us go to the White House.”
“You’re crazy,” I say, my hand going to my purse, but he closes the space between us quickly, already a mere foot away. I can’t pull it out fast enough. “We’re supposed to go to the White House together.”
“You broke up with me.”
“I was just punishing you. I’m still with you. Put the gun down. What are you going to say anyway? I just happened to die with Danielle who is supposed to already be dead?”
“We’re creative. Danielle won’t show back up. You’ll disappear and be found in the lake which delivers the sympathy vote.”
More footsteps sound and Tobey must not expect them because he jerks right. I reach for my gun, but I never get the chance to pull it. Tobey falls to the ground and Jake charges forward. I don’t wait on him. I run for Danielle and check her pulse, but it’s too late. She’s gone this time. She’s gone, and I can’t bring her back.
I fall over the top of her and start to cry, deep hard tears that rock my entire body. I have a vague realization of Jake pulling me close and it’s then that I remember something that Rudolf said to me: He’s with us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
THE PAST—TWO HOURS LATER…
After the FBI swooped down on the park, chaos feeding more chaos, I am now sitting in the back of an SUV waiting on Jake. Exhaustion has taken hold and my emotions are just beneath the surface, the pain festering into anger. I reach into my briefcase and I pull out the phone Logan gave me, noting his attempts to call me a half-dozen times. I punch in his number. “Hailey,” he says. “Are you okay? I saw the news.”
“Yes, but this is going to get ugly, dirty, bad. Really, really bad. You need to stay away.”
“I can handle all of those things.”
“But I don’t want you to. Remember when I said that if you kissed me again, that I don’t want it to be because we want anything from each other?”
“Of course I remember.”
“I still want that. I want you to be that escape from this place. I don’t know how long that is for me. I’m not asking you to wait, but if I get free, I’ll call. And you can decide if you want to answer.”
“What makes you free?”
I laugh bitterly. “If he’s arrested, which I doubt, or if he loses. Then I’m free.”
“And if he wins.”
“I’m in hell forever.”
“Hailey—”
“I’ll call. You decide if you answer.” The door opens, and I hang up and turn the phone off, sticking it back in my briefcase.
Jake slides inside and shuts us in the backseat alone. “What’s happening?”
He scrubs his jaw and rests his elbows on his knees, turning his head my direction. “Danielle will get a proper burial. Her father will be arrested, but I talked to the New Zealand officials. Danielle’s mother is dead, but it appears to be a suicide, not a murder.”
She didn’t push her off a cliff like she’d said. Even a mess, she was baiting me. “What about Drew Ellis? Where does he fit in this?”
“He’s missing. I’d assume he saw too much. We’ll keep looking but my gut says he’s dead. We’ll never see him again.”
Dead. I do not like dead. “What about Megan?”
“Danielle was at her house. She’s missing. We’re concerned.”
My hand goes to my belly. “Oh God. No. Please. She has to be okay.”
“We’re looking. I’ll let you know when we know.” He sits up and shifts my direction. “This is going to get dirty, messy, and just overall shitty.”
I laugh without humor at his play on what I said to Logan. “I know.”
“Whatever you might think, I’m one of the good guys.”
“They said you were with them.”
“Who?”
“Rudolf.”
“Good. I want them to believe that. They’re all going down. Terrance is going down now. I don’t think I can arrest your father, but I want him. I will get him. If I can’t get him legally, I’ll get him politically.”
“I thought you were one of the good guys?”
“The good guys get the bad guys,” he says. “End of story. Are you in or out?”
“In,” I say, knowing this is my time to be fearless and for real this time.
“That means staying by his side. That means accepting the bullshit he feeds you about tonight. That means—”
“I’m in.”
“I’ll give you immunity.”
“I’m in already.”
“It might not happen by the primaries,” he warns.
“Please make it happen before then.”
“I can’t promise, but I will promise that he’ll never be President.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He studies me several beats and then nods. “Then let’s go to Washington.”
***
TWELVE HOURS LATER…
I’ve managed to pull myself together in a simple black dress and heels, with my hair sleek and professional. I’m professional, and grief-worthy, as should be a good future First Daughter. I’m also man
aging to hold myself together as I sit in my father’s living area with him and Terrance while they explain to me that Tobey was rogue and behind everything. The two of them sit side by side on the couch, while I sit to the side on a chair, as if it’s them against me, which of course it is.
“I’m sorry,” Terrance says, his voice croaking out, his face all hard lines and grief, while his suit is perfectly pressed, as is my father’s, of course. “I can’t even believe my son would do these things,” Terrance adds.
My father cups his shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”
I almost feel sorry for Terrance for what’s about to happen to him. Almost. Not really. He’s just as guilty of Danielle’s murder as his son. Almost as guilty as my father. The door opens and shuts, and Rudolf appears in the entryway. “Sir, the FBI is here.” That’s all the warning there is.
Jake and four additional agents sweep into the room and they go right for Terrance. “Terrance Johnson you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, fraud, and—" the list goes on. I tune it out.
I’m staring at my father’s pale face, trying not to smile. He stands and starts his indignant routine. “A lawyer is on the way, Terrance. Help is on the way.”
Terrance sobs, actually sobs, but then the man has lost his son and freedom in a matter of hours. I almost feel bad again. It’s a full twenty minutes of activity before Jake steps to my side, and lowers his voice. “We found Megan. She’s fine.”
Relief washes over me, but that joy is doused as my father joins us. “Sir,” Jake says, facing him but staying by my side. “I want you to know that I’m available if you need me. I’ve taken to your daughter and I’ll be looking out for you and her.”
My father narrows his eyes on me and then Jake, and it’s clear in those conniving, intelligent eyes, that he thinks what Jake wants him to think: Jake saved him for me. It’s the beginning of his end.
***
SIX MONTH LATER, PRIMARY ELECTION NIGHT…
A Perfect Lie Page 26
