“But not the biggest,” Lily said. “The biggest fish might still be unhappy. And still waiting for Cassie to emerge. Or—not. But you knew Detective Kirkhalter? You know he died?”
“Sure, yes.” Tosca shrugged. “I talked to him a lot back then. And later. Cassie was the case who got away, he told me. Wow. You’re saying that’s a complete fabrication?”
A door opened behind Tosca. Lily caught a brief glimpse of a man, then the door closed.
“My husband,” Tosca said. “We’re headed out of town in ten minutes.”
“One more thing,” Lily said. “Really, really quickly. I’m going to text you a photo.”
“Of who?”
“That’s what I want you to tell me,” Lily said.
CHAPTER 53
CASSIE
“Can you take over the bouill?” Sasha tried to keep her voice sounding normal as she handed the long wooden spoon to Maree, the first arrival of the morning. The kitchen would soon fill with the bustle and clank of a lunch service in progress, and Sasha had to be alone with this message, even for five minutes. Two minutes. The Instagram post from Lily seemed like a live thing in her hand, a lifeline or a doorway, or maybe a noose. She couldn’t decide, not here, not with fish soup fumes in her face and the overhead fans rattling and the imminent arrival of a chattering crew.
“You okay, chef?” Maree, a star student with real culinary skills, eyed her up and down as she accepted the spoon. “Zora says to give you a kiss from her. She’s latched onto you somehow. And you’re so patient with her. Now she wants to be a chef, too.”
“Love to have her,” Sasha said.
Maree had seemed to be a friend possibility, too, but that would never happen. Maree’s daughter Zora was seven, and sometimes, seeing her, Cassie thought her heart would break for what she’d missed. She saw the trust in Zora’s eyes, her reliance on her mother, their bond. That would never happen in her own life. She’d deserted Lily—though she’d had no choice—and set her life on a lonely path. Lonelier, because no one here could ever know who she really was. Sometimes it felt as if she wasn’t really anyone. But no one would know that either. And so the cycle continued.
“And give her a hug back.” Sasha smiled, oh so casually, though it was all she could do not to bolt out of the room. “I’m just gonna get some fresh air before the lunch chaos starts. Check for pepper.”
And before Maree could answer her, Sasha was out the back door and into the parking lot and leaning against the back of her Jeep, staring at the screen of her cell phone.
She’d gotten a message from the past, and an approval of a future. Now she needed to make a decision.
She used two fingers to look at the photo again, close up, a photo she’d seen so often in the past and then forgotten, the reality of it hitting her like the day so many summers ago when her father had snapped it with that boxy little camera. Lily—she guessed Lily—had cropped the photo a bit, leaving out the front of their white painted house, with its redbrick chimney and spider plants in curvy metal holders dangling from hooks on the porch ceiling. She’d kept only the bottom edge of Cassie’s skirt, and the little socks with white lace edging, and the shiny black Mary Janes that had been her favorite. And the dog. Pooch.
Who else had a cute dog like this? Lily had asked in the post. She’d added puppy emojis, and hearts, and a smiley face. Love to talk to you about it! To anyone else, adorable dog-loving Lily. To Cassie, it was a message. Had to be.
Cassie stared at the sky, past dawn now, the edges of the last of the morning pink vanishing around the edges. A new day. Lily had kept that photo. She hadn’t forgotten her. Didn’t want to forget.
She stared at her phone screen.
But this message must mean—must mean—someone had seen the letter she’d written to Kirkhalter. Maybe a fellow police officer or someone who’d worked on her case with him. This message from Lily proved it was safe for her to come out. Made sense that there was a backup plan, and the backup person must have found Lily and told her.
And this was Lily’s signal, saying yes, I want to see you. And no one but Cassie would be able to decipher it. Without even using the flowers she’d sent, or the Penny.
“Smart,” Sasha said out loud, and felt more like Cassie than she had in years. She was looking at her real self. This photo of her with Pooch proved she existed, proved there was another life that she’d lived, where she’d dreamed of the future, and bossed her kid sister around, and swanned off to college with high hopes and lofty dreams. And now here she was, no one, and a murderer.
But with this one photo, Lily had told her everything was all right now. The past was over. And she could have her family back, what was left of it, and that was enough. More than enough. She could never be Cassie Atwood again, of course. But she could have her Lillow and her niece. Rowen, she’d read somewhere. She could know Rowen.
All she had to do was answer this post.
CHAPTER 54
GREER
You take a step and take another step and think you’re doing the right thing, then all of a sudden, you aren’t. I stared out the front bay window of my apartment, watching the street come to life; someone running, a guy in sweatpants pushing a jogging stroller, a yellow Lab trotting beside them. People with normal lives, on a regular Thursday, who hadn’t made a deal with the—well, not necessarily the devil, but with someone who’d promised to ruin my life if I didn’t betray Lily.
I shook my head, sighed, wrapped my arms around myself, shivering even though the May morning was gloriously sunny with the promise of summertime to come.
How in the world, I’d asked Banning yesterday, was I supposed to have a second “coincidental” meeting with “my friend from out of town” and Rowen Atwood? Rowen was a child, sure, but she wasn’t an idiot, and the first thing she’d do would be to tell Lily. And after that, there’d be no explanation.
Work it out, he’d finally told me. I’m sure you can think of something. You just tell me where to tell him to be, and when. And it has to be tomorrow. Which was, now, today.
I’d driven home from the fast-food place, panicked and terrified. Taken a slug of bourbon, maybe two, and fallen asleep. But morning had come, and now I put my hands over my face, covering my eyes, wishing there were an escape.
When my cell phone rang, I almost leaped out of my skin. Lily. What had Rowen told her? Did it not even matter what I thought, or what I worried about? Maybe Rowen had described Sam to Lily, said he had green eyes like hers or something, and Lily was calling me now, about to go crazy, in rage or tears or however it would be. As the phone rang a second time, I thought about my bank account and how long I could survive without a job.
I could change my name, it crossed my mind, start over as someone else. Put myself in witness protection. Ha ha.
The phone rang a third time, and I considered letting it go to voice mail, pretending I’d been in the shower—it was seven in the morning after all—and then see what message she left and then see where to go from there.
“Hey, Lily,” I answered the phone, making my voice sound sleepy, as if that’s why I’d delayed in answering.
“Listen, Greer? I know it’s early.”
I tried to decode her attitude.
“Hi,” I said.
Silence.
“Lily?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Yesterday at the aquarium. When you just happened to be there when Rowen was there.”
“Yeah, I was meeting a source, actually an old pal, and—”
“Yeah.” Now there was definite ice in her tone. “So you said. But I have to ask you, Greer, and it’s important. It’s fine, whatever it is, but I have to know.”
“Sure.” Now that she was about to ask me, I had to figure out what I would say, how I would explain it, and maybe the truth would be best, but what was the truth, even? That I thought Lily was being unfair? That I felt sorry for the man who—
“Was that Banning? I’d told you Rowen was going to be at
the aquarium, hadn’t I?”
I’m sure Lily was surprised at the sharp pitch of my laughter. She couldn’t have known the relief it contained.
“Oh my gosh, Lily, of course not. One hundred percent no, absolutely not. I mean, how could that even—” I stopped. Waited to see if she believed me. And why not? It was the blessed damn truth. “He was with you.”
“Oh,” she said. “Right.” I heard a sigh, maybe a yawn. “Look. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Moving on. I sent a message to Cassie. Who knows whether she’ll get it, or understand it. A long shot, I suppose.”
I could look on Insta. I could look at Lily’s page, see what she’d posted. What she decided might mean something to her sister. But she must have thought of that, realized that I could easily see the page. Banning, too. But we’d discussed it, so all fine.
“Great,” I said. “Wow.”
“But here’s the thing,” she went on. “Something’s wrong with Petra’s car, whatever, and she can’t take Rowen to school and can’t drive me to the station, and I know it’s early, but—I mean, I could put her in an Uber, or both of us in an Uber, but—yeah, I’ll do that. I should have thought of that before. Never mind. I’m too tired. I’ll take an Uber to the station, too. Unless—well, Cassie. But I wanted to know about Banning. That’s why I had to call.”
“No, no.” I tried to calculate, fast as I could, to see if there was a way to make this work for me. “Here’s the thing. That friend from out of town is on his way here right now, and we’re going out for a quick breakfast before I have to get to the station, and I was actually going to take him out your way, to that fun diner in Newton?” I was making this up as fast as I could and hoping it didn’t sound too unlikely. “Then he’s leaving town. So I’ll bring him with me, and pick up Rowen and drop her off. All good. It’s not even out of the way.”
Silence. I decided to take that as agreement. This might be the solution, except—ah, it hit me what I’d forgotten. If I picked up Rowen at Lily’s, I’d have to keep Lily from seeing that Sam Prescott was in the car. Which was impossible. And bang, game over. Damn. Dumb, dumb, dumb idea.
“Or not,” I said. It’d be fine either way. I could just say the guy made other plans. I shook my head. Lie upon lie.
“She doesn’t need to be there until eight thirty,” Lily said. “Let me see what happens with Cassie. If anything.”
“Works for me.” I tried to keep the relief out of my voice.
Silence.
“Lily? You still there?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. “I just checked my Insta. I have a message from Cassie.”
CHAPTER 55
LILY
Cassie was an hour away. Lily sat, feeling separated from reality, in her living room. How was it to message with a ghost? Five hours ago, Lily had clicked off an Instagram exchange with Cassie, or whatever her name was now, she hadn’t said, and that’s exactly what it seemed like. The aura of the not-quite-conversation—typed, not spoken—still haunted her.
First the connection with Tosca. Then this. The past was coming back to life.
Cassie had messaged her on Instagram from an address called @Zendagirl. Pooch, the message had said. Right?
Rowen and Petra had still been upstairs, and Lily, still at her desk, had pictured that photo of Pooch. She’d cropped it to keep out Cassie’s face and the façade of their house, and then imagined it flying through the ether to wherever Cassie was. Somewhere exotically far away? Next door? It didn’t matter; it would land where it landed, and then the real journey might begin.
Pooch. Lily stared at the letters in the message, heart clenched and a faint buzzing in her brain like the first rumbles of an advancing thunderstorm or the shudder of an impending earthquake. After one long breath, one inhale, one exhale, she’d answered.
Yes, she typed.
No phone, the answer came back immediately. Lily wondered where her sister might be; in a Manhattan penthouse, in a rustic cabin in the wilds of Michigan, on a beach in Bali. What did Cassie do? How did she live? What might she look like, still gorgeous and willowy—Willow and Lillow, their father had called them—or tough and hardened? I can be to you by two this afternoon.
The maps in Lily’s head began to rearrange. She could almost see the circumference of distance five hours might entail. Five hours away. Long Island, Maine, upstate New York.
Yes, Lily had typed back. She and Banning and Greer had decided they could meet at Banning’s house. Banning had the files. They would prove who he was and reassure Cassie that he wasn’t a threat, but actually an emissary from his deceased father. Because there was no other way he could have known about this.
Remember hornet tree? Lily typed. Kind it was?
Cassie typed back an emoji of a bumblebee. One sting, she’d typed. Yes.
And the name of our drugstore? The idea had come to Lily’s exhausted brain around three in the morning. That was her reporter self at work, planning for things that might not happen. But might.
Yes. I remember.
Intersection in Watertown. Corner house. That was the riskiest part. But there was no code for Watertown, and if Cassie had been worried her Insta was monitored, she never would have answered.
Two PM, Cassie had typed.
Yes, Lily answered.
See you soon.
And then the typing stopped.
Lily had somehow made it through the morning, fueled by coffee and uncertainty. Rowen went to school, accompanied by Petra, via Uber. Greer was at Channel 6, after Lily informed her she wanted to stay home by herself in case Cassie responded. A lie, but she didn’t feel comfortable telling Greer anything.
Banning, she supposed, was in the house at the corner of Sycamore and Hamilton. Lily had almost called him, too, but stopped. Worried there was something she’d overlooked. Or couldn’t know. That the gamble she was taking used loaded dice.
But she could not allow Cassie to arrive and not be there to meet her. That die was cast, loaded or not. She’d tell Banning, and Greer, when the time came.
Her own Uber had taken her to Channel 6, where she’d picked up her car and headed for Watertown.
When she turned the final corner onto Hamilton Street, she saw the garage doors were closed. But lights were on, upstairs and down. Banning must be home.
She buzzed down her car window, letting in the afternoon, foot barely on the accelerator, putting off the inevitable. The moment Banning looked outside, he’d see her, and the secret would begin to come out. These were her last minutes in this part of her life, she knew that. No matter what happened next, from now on it would be different.
The neighborhood was peaceful this time of afternoon, a lone lawn mower buzzing somewhere in the distance, a cardinal twittering pretty pretty pretty. There were no sounds of approaching cars, driving slowly, checking street signs for their destination.
And what would she do, in that moment when some car door opened and there was Cassie? And she’d recognize her, of that Lily had no doubt. Was she supposed to throw her arms around her, burst into tears? She’d been seven the last time they’d talked, Lily a tousled bed-headed kid, groggy and bleared with sleep. Now she was Lily Atwood, fifty-eight thousand followers, three Emmys, and an unsullied reputation for perfection. Relatable, admirable, aspirational. With a sister, now, who was a murderer.
CHAPTER 56
GREER
“What the hell, Greer? Do you know anything about this?” Banning’s voice, hard and sharpened, hissed into my ear.
“About what?”
I’d leaped out of my skin when my cell phone rang, swiveled my desk chair away from my computer screen as if I’d been caught goofing off. I’d completely ignored my Channel 6 work for the past few days, as had Lily, I was sure, and soon that would catch up with us. Lily could skate, uncriticized, but it was my responsibility to find our next story. Still, the mysterious Tosca Manukian tempted me. She was out there, had to be, somewhere, with answers. I’
d thought I’d found her this morning, but the phone in London I’d decided was hers went to voice mail. Lily was home, waiting for Cassie’s reply.
Somehow, I had to get Sam Prescott to see Rowen again, today, and no matter what scheme I tried to concoct, it was completely impossible. Any connection I could make with Rowen would of necessity include Lily, and that was a deal-breaker. No question she’d recognize Prescott. And even if, as in one scenario I’d gamed out, I insisted to Lily I had no idea who Sam Prescott was, that would be received as laughably ridiculous.
I’d told Banning that, several times, when I finally called him back.
“So you think of something, Banning.” I’d been driving to Channel 6 yesterday, racking my brains, and finally decided to put the ball in his court. It had crossed my mind to keep driving, on and on and away. Maybe Cassie had a good idea. Escaping and disappearing was sounding pretty tempting. “There’s no way I can do that, and you know it.”
“My client is leaving town today,” Banning told me, his voice crackling through the car’s Bluetooth. “if he doesn’t see Rowen, I don’t get paid.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” I said.
“Perhaps.” He’d given that mirthless chuckle. “It’ll be Lily’s problem.”
And if Lily had a problem, he didn’t need to say, so did I.
Now he was back on the phone. Smith, our benefactor, still held my future in his hands. As Banning. And asking if I knew about something.
“Banning? I asked you—about what?”
“About what? About our precious Lily.” Now Banning’s every word seethed with irritation. “She’s in her car. Sitting in my driveway.”
“Why?” I squinted as if somehow I could see all the way to Watertown.
“How the hell do I know?” I’d never heard Banning sound so bitter. “Did she tell you anything?”
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