Greer cleared her throat. “Well, when Smith called to meet at Lido—Banning now, we know—he first told me he’d been hired by a ‘client’—Sam Prescott, we now know—who wanted to—”
A car came around the corner. Not slowly, not stopping for the stop sign, not trolling for house numbers. The car, the same beige four-door Banning had driven yesterday to Lido, and to the gas station, and finally to this very house.
“Banning,” Lily said. She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, needing the reassurance her cell phone was there.
The car had barely stopped as Banning got out and slammed his door. Ray-Bans hanging from the collar of his black tee, and black ball cap still on, he strode up to her and Greer.
Lily saw him assess the open garage door. Then the second-floor windows.
“Was I expecting you?” He looked at Lily, then looked at Greer. Then at Lily’s car. “You came here together?”
“Well,” Greer began.
Lily silenced her with a look. That answer would require too much explaining. “I knocked, but no one answered. I guess your client left. I came to tell you Cassie’s on the way.”
Banning narrowed his eyes. “When?”
“When?” Greer said.
“Two o’clock.” Lily held up her watch. “She’s late.”
“Good. Glad I got here. You should have called me. Where’d she say she was coming from?” Banning squinted into the sun, jabbed on his sunglasses.
“She didn’t,” Lily said.
“Did she tell you the name she’s using now?”
“She didn’t,” Lily repeated. “But, Banning, is there something you forgot to tell me about her?”
“Like what?”
“Like about her motivations.”
“How would I know her motivations?” Banning almost snorted the word, waved off her question. “You know I haven’t been in touch with her.”
“Right,” she said. “Just making sure.” She looked at her watch again. Not even a minute had gone by. What Banning had told Sam couldn’t be true—if Banning had been in touch with Cassie enough to know her intent, he knew a lot more than he was telling Lily now. And her money was on Sam’s truth. She’d trusted him from the beginning, seven years ago. Yes, they’d made some terrible decisions. And after that, she had, too, along the way. Maybe. But this Sam was still her Sam, she could tell. And she not only trusted him, she trusted herself. And her own instincts. She’d better be right. He had Rowen now.
“Maybe Cassie’s not coming,” Lily said.
“You think?” Greer said.
“She’ll be here,” Banning said.
“Maybe you two should go inside.” Lily pointed to the front door. When Cassie showed up, Lily needed to talk with her alone. And she didn’t want Cassie to panic when she turned that corner and saw three people watching for her in the driveway. “Yeah. Go in. I’ll wave at you to come out when the time comes.” She held up her phone. “Or I’ll call you, Greer.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Greer asked.
“Is that what you care about?” Lily kept her voice calm, but knew Greer understood her fury. And disappointment.
“We’ll be watching,” Banning said. “In case you need us.”
“Sure,” Lily said.
Maybe the whole thing was ridiculous, she thought as she watched them go in the front door. Standing here in a dumb driveway for the last half hour, waiting for the thing she’d been sure for most of her life would never happen. Cassie’s last words to her, her parting words on that long ago night, had been I love you.
But no. That was wrong. Cassie’s last words to her were in this morning’s text. And they’d been See you soon.
CHAPTER 64
CASSIE
She was late, but not that late. Cassie fretted at the interminable stoplight before what the GPS map called the Watertown Bridge, drumming the steering wheel with her fingers. The Charles River was in front of her, an estuary or an offshoot or whatever they called them, so serene and sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. A man in a plaid shirt walked with a little girl along the shore, the girl—his daughter?—pointing at the green-necked mallards and their dowdier spouses. The man and child looked so connected, Cassie thought, then laughed silently at her own vivid imagination.
The light turned green. And then another one, and another one, and at 2:17 by her Jeep’s dashboard clock, she turned at the corner of Hamilton and Sycamore and saw the woman standing in the driveway.
How long is twenty-five years? Long enough for a little girl to become a successful journalist, with a career and a daughter. Long enough for some memories to fade and vanish forever and others to rise to the surface, gilded and permanent, Christmas tree mornings and shared peppermint sticks. A new puppy, flop-eared and skittery and beloved. A wide-eyed seven-year-old watching her too-confident big sister pack up for college, a final hushed goodbye in a sleep-scented bedroom, all calico quilt and whispered useless apologies. Not long enough, though, to erase the guilt of what had happened, Cassie’s stumble into a dark and dangerous world, where she’d made an inescapable decision. She had lived, at least, but in constant fear. Was twenty-five years long enough to erase fear?
The woman in the driveway was turned to her, watching her arrival, her outline familiar and unfamiliar. Lily touched her hair, and Cassie was close enough now to see her take a deep breath and take a step toward the street.
With a crunch of loose gravel, Cassie eased her Jeep to the curb and parked behind a tan four-door. And she didn’t think, didn’t wait, didn’t wonder, didn’t assess. She clicked open the door, and in an instant, they were in each other’s arms, Cassie’s shoulder bag sandwiched between them.
And then Cassie pulled away, had to, adjusted her shoulder bag and took a step back, looked her younger sister square in the eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “You are perfect.”
“Oh, please, Cassie, I can’t believe—are you okay?”
Cassie saw the tears in her sister’s eyes, and they were in her own, too. “You kept the photo of Pooch and me.”
“Of course,” Lily said. “But where have you been? I can’t believe—”
“Is this where you live?” Cassie gestured at the split-level home, the empty garage. “And sure, I’m fine. I’ll tell you the whole thing, it’s—”
“Listen, Cassie.” Lily had grabbed Cassie’s forearms, her grip tight over the long sleeves of her white tee. “I know this is insane, standing in the driveway of someone’s house—not where I live, no—and if there were any easier way to do this, I would. But I have to ask you. Just—listen for two seconds. I know it’s crazy. I’ll tell you the whole thing in a minute, I promise, but back then, at Berwick, was that Detective Kirkhalter going to charge you with killing Jeremy Duggan?”
Cassie’s answer spilled out of her, and she realized it probably didn’t make much sense. “It was because I left him in that apartment, I didn’t know he was dead, but he did die, and Kirkhalter told me a jury would never believe it was an accident. Not really an accident, I guess, but just—coincidence. There was all kinds of evidence, I know there was, but it wasn’t my fault that he died, not really, and Kirkhalter told me—wait.” She stopped, wondering about the missing link. “Lily? How did you know to contact me? I know Kirkhalter is dead, so—”
Lily had reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her phone. Seemed to be reading something. Closed her eyes briefly, put it back.
“We have to hurry,” Lily told her. “I’ve seen the confidential informant letter, and it’s only about Zachary Shaw. Do you remember—”
“Dead.” Nothing could diminish that memory. “In prison.”
“Okay.” Lily pressed her hands together, as if in prayer. “And you didn’t sell drugs, did you?”
“Of course not,” Cassie whispered. “I was a kid, a dumb kid, but all I wanted was to—I was a only freshman in college. But I knew if I didn’t take Kirkhalter’s offer, I’d be behind bar
s. I told you Lily, that night, that I’d done something bad. And I had. But it’s more what I didn’t do. I left him to die, and he died. And no matter what our mother used to say, no apology would make up for that.”
“I know,” Lily said.
“Who’s that?” Cassie had seen the front door open. And now two people were coming out. First a woman, someone she didn’t recognize. And behind her, close behind her, a man in sunglasses and a ball cap.
CHAPTER 65
LILY
“Don’t say anything, Cassie,” Lily whispered as she moved closer to her sister. Greer and Banning, damn it, damn it, were emerging from the front door. Why? She’d told them to stay inside. Damn. Her sister—her sister—had the aura of a forgotten woman, pale skin, random hair, soft but tired eyes. The arms beneath her T-shirt had been muscled, and Cassie seemed wiry and strong. It was her eyes, though, twenty-five years older with the joy extinguished—that twisted Lily’s heart. She expected Cassie to look different, of course, but in her mind, she still pictured Cassie’s vibrance, everything about her glowing and confident. All that had vanished.
“Okay, I won’t, but who is that?” Cassie whispered back. She’d retreated a step or two, Lily saw. Good.
Greer and Banning were walking toward them, Banning behind Greer, not beside her.
“I’m sorry, Lily.” Greer’s voice, though Lily had never heard it sound that way.
“Sorry?”
Lily felt Cassie retreating even farther.
“Stop right there, Miss Atwood.”
“What’re you talking about, Banning?”
“Not you, Lily. Your sister. Cassie. Stop right there.”
Lily linked her arm through her sister’s. “Banning?”
“Cassie Atwood, I’m Detective Walter Banning Kirkhalter from the Berwick Police Department. As you know, there is no statute of limitations on murder. And we now have an informant who will testify against you for the murder of Jeremy Duggan. You’ll have to come with me.”
“What? No! Lily?” Cassie had moved away from Lily, and backed up, closer to her car. “Lily? You lured me here? You knew? This was—oh my god, I can’t believe it. I trusted you! I answered you! You’re my sister!”
In a flash, Cassie turned and sprinted to her Jeep. Opened the driver’s-side door. Stood with the car between her and the three in the driveway.
“No, no, no, Cassie, I didn’t, I didn’t.” Lily had to make her understand. Banning had tricked her. And he was not a cop, no way. He’d lied to them from the beginning. What the hell was he doing? “I swear—”
But with one harsh motion, Banning had shoved Greer to her knees. Pointed his gun at Greer’s head. Behind his sunglasses, Lily could tell his eyes were on Cassie.
“If you run, Cassie, I’ll kill this woman,” he said. “She’s your darling sister’s only friend. And then I’ll kill Lily herself. Happily. And you’ll be responsible for two more deaths.”
“What? No, Cassie—Greer—how did—?” No real cop would ever do this. Lily had no idea what to do, no idea, but she knew this was wrong, wrong in every way, and impossible. Why did no one drive by, where were the neighbors, how could this place be so empty? This was not how this was supposed to unfold.
“Officer. Stop.” Cassie’s voice, demanding and decisive.
Cassie walked, one slow step at a time, from behind her car. Lily started to approach her, hand in her pocket.
“Lily. Stop.” Banning’s voice left no room for argument. “Don’t even think about calling 911.”
“Cassie,” Lily said. “Listen to me. This man is lying. No cop would use an innocent person as a hostage.”
“I’ll come with you.” Cassie’s voice cut like ice through the spring afternoon. “If you put the gun down.”
Lily watched her walk toward Banning, one palm in the air, one slow step at a time, surrendering. To what, though? Banning was no cop. What was she doing?
“Cassie. I’m sorry.” Greer, on her knees on the asphalt, wiped tears from her eyes with both hands. Her voice almost a wail. “I didn’t know. I didn’t.”
Banning kept the gun pointed hard at Greer. There were three of them, Lily knew, but it was too risky to try to overcome him. His gun changed the equation.
“Only if you put the gun down.” Cassie had stopped walking. Yanked up the strap of her shoulder bag. “That’s the deal.”
“There’s no deal,” Banning said.
“Look,” Lily said. “Banning. Whoever you are. You’re in a nice little neighborhood in Watertown. Broad daylight. Every one of these houses probably has surveillance, state-of-the-art cameras rolling, all around us. People are probably watching you right now. And the minute there’s a gunshot—I mean the second—some of the people in these nice little homes are gonna be on the phone.” In an instant, she took her own phone from her pocket and held it at eye level so he could see she wasn’t dialing. Then stashed it back. “So. Do as Cassie says.”
“I’ll come with you,” Cassie said again. “If you put the gun down. And I mean—down.”
Banning inched the gun away from Greer’s head.
“Cassie?” he said. “And I mean—now.”
“My sister told you to put it down first,” Lily said. “On the driveway.”
“Or else I’m not going with you,” Cassie said. “Go ahead, kill anyone you like. It’ll be the last time you see daylight. Like my sister said. You’re right here in public. And there’ll be two of us left to stop you.”
Greer’s eyes had widened, her tears flowing, unstopped.
Lily wanted to cry, too, but knew she couldn’t. She had to see this through. She had a weapon of her own, but she would not take it out of her pocket until the right time.
Maybe four feet between Cassie and Banning. They stared at each other. Eye to eye.
“Put it down,” Lily said. “And, Greer, you stand up. And kick the gun over by my car.”
“Now,” Cassie said. “If you want me? Do it. Last and only chance.”
The metal scraped over the asphalt, and the gun stopped in the shadows beside Lily’s car.
“Cassie? Remember the person your pal Duggan called back then while you were snooping in the kitchen?” Banning asked. His sunglasses glinted. “Yeah. I see you do. Well, he’s told us everything. And if I don’t report in, it’s over for you, Cassie. And you, too, Lily, for hiding a fugitive. So Cassie? You’re done. There’s no one to help you this time.”
“I know.” Cassie’s voice sounded weary. “It was worth it to be with you, Lily, even for this long. I wish I could have seen Rowen.”
Lily reached into her pocket. Greer skittered away. Banning grabbed Cassie’s arm.
“Don’t even try it, Lily,” Banning said.
Lily pulled out her phone. “It’s just a phone,” she said. “If you’re a real cop and telling the truth and have a warrant for her arrest—”
“I don’t need a warrant.” Banning’s voice stayed confident. “She’s coming of her own free will. Because she knows she killed Jeremy Duggan.”
Lily held up her phone screen, took two steps forward, glanced at Greer, and waved the phone in Banning’s face, hoping to distract him. “Look. Don’t you want to see the pictures I have?”
“It’s a black screen,” he said.
“Don’t move,” Greer said. She had grabbed the gun and held it, pointed at Banning. “You know I’ll shoot you. My turn now. Let Cassie go.”
“Bitch.” He swore under his breath as Cassie stepped away.
“Oh, did I not hit the right button?” Lily tapped her phone. “I got a text from a woman named Tosca Manukian a few minutes ago. She’s a reporter. From Berwick. And I’d sent her a photo—from outside Lido, remember? The selfies with the college students you were so annoyed about?”
Cassie, now behind Banning, was reaching into her purse. Lily held Banning’s eyes.
“So the hell what?” Banning said.
“And turns out—this Tosca Manukian knows Walt Kirkh
alter’s son is a dentist in Erie.”
“That’s bull—”
“But she did recognize you,” Lily went on. “She says you’re Jeremy Duggan.”
CHAPTER 66
LILY
Lily watched Cassie’s face change. Realizing.
In an instant, Cassie took a step forward. Lily saw her take a gun out of her bag. Stab it into Banning’s ribs. With the other hand, Cassie ripped off his sunglasses and his hat and tossed them aside. They landed upside down on the asphalt. Cassie had opened her mouth. But nothing came out. Her gun stayed tight against Banning’s side.
Greer kept the other gun pointed at Banning, too. “Jeremy Duggan? But he’s—”
“Whoever you are.” Lily came closer, savored each word. “You can’t be arresting my sister for the murder of Jeremy Duggan. Because Jeremy Duggan is you. And you’re alive. And now I’m calling the real police.”
“That’s ridi—”
“Shut. The hell. Up,” Cassie said, every word precise. Paced. Ominous. “You. I spent the last. Freaking. Twenty-five years. Living in constant fear. Now hold up your freaking hands.”
Cassie pushed her gun harder into Banning’s ribs. He obeyed, palms toward Cassie, eyes burning, face white with anger. Lily saw Greer’s arms trembling, but keeping two steps away, she continued to hold Banning’s own gun pointed directly at his chest.
“Every second of every day.” Cassie’s voice, rock and steel, did not waver. “I’ve prepared for this moment. Wondered if I’d ever have to use this thing. Getting ready. Practicing. Worrying about what nameless stranger would show up to retaliate for what I’d told the DA. And now I realize it isn’t some nameless stranger. And I’m a good shot. Asshole.”
Her Perfect Life Page 31
