by John Locke
“Of course it does,” she snapped. “But it bothers me a lot more that my husband was a pervert who stole her panties and drooled over her naked pictures and wanted to run off with her, and it bothers me he got naked and hanged himself and that my daughter had to find him like that, and…” her voice trails off, and Detective Broadus says, “I’m sorry, ma’am. To be honest, the reason I’ve pursued this line of questioning so aggressively is the department only gave us 24 hours to wrap this case up, and because of the…circumstances surrounding your husband’s death we knew the insurance company would be all over us to be as thorough as possible.”
Detective Rudd adds, “Although we have some lingering doubts about Miss Hill’s influence on your husband’s actions, we can’t pursue her personal and financial records without extending our time frame, and the scope of our investigation. If you’re satisfied we’ve done our job, our report will show it’s our opinion Mr. Thorne’s death was accidental.”
“Thank you,” Mom says. “And yes, we’re satisfied you’ve covered all the bases.”
Jess says, “Detective Broadus? I think you owe Nicki an apology.”
Broadus says, “That would be pushing it.”
Nicki says, “Thanks, Jess. Detective Broadus? No hard feelings. In fact, if anything ever happens to me I hope you and Detective Rudd get the case. But with regard to this case, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Let’s put it this way, Miss Hill: if you did, you got away with it.”
I can’t help but notice the effect his words have on Mom: she’s visibly agitated. And when the detectives finally leave, she says, “Nicki, you and I need to talk. Just the two of us. Would that suit you?”
And Nicki says, “I’m looking forward to it.”
And Mom says, “Let’s go to my room.”
7.
Jessie
THE FIRST TIME Michael brought Nicki home to meet the family we were worried as hell because all his previous girlfriends turned out to be worse than zombie crypt creepers. But Nicki made such a good impression we couldn’t believe his good fortune.
“What’s your opinion?” Daddy asked, after her first family interrogation.
“I love her,” I said, and if I didn’t mean it literally at the time, I soon did. Nicki built an instant rapport with me by doing something no brother’s girlfriend—or anyone else—would ever do: after dinner she said, “Jessie, I’d like to get to know you better. Would you show me your room?”
Michael said something stupid, like, “Her room’s a disaster,” but Nicki instinctively knew that was the perfect way to discover the real me. So she followed me into my room, closed the door behind us, sat on my bed and said, “I’m gonna tell you something about me that no one in the whole world knows. Can I trust you to keep my secret?”
“Of course!” I said, with eyes as big as plates.
She patted the bed for me to sit beside her, and said, “Remember at dinner when we told you guys how we met?”
“Yes,” and to prove I’d been paying attention I added, “Michael set up an online date with an aerobics instructor who stood him up and you also had a date scheduled at the same coffee shop a half hour later with a goon you’d never met and you took one look at him and wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go, so you sat with Michael until the goon guy finally left.”
Nicki smiled. “Exactly.” Then she said, “Don’t tell anyone, but that entire story is bullshit.”
“What do you mean?”
“I catfished Michael.”
“Whaaa?”
“There was no Chrissy the aerobics instructor. I made her up.”
“Wait! You’re saying—”
“The profile, the pictures, the online conversations with Michael…all phony.”
“Omigod!”
Nicki laughed. “And of course, I didn’t have a date with the goon. In fact, there was no goon. I just pretended there was.”
“Does Michael know?”
“Nope. Like I said, I’ve never told anyone. If you decide to tell him or your parents, you’ll scorch me.”
I thought about it a long time, then said, “Why did you tell me that?”
“Because I really like you, Jess, and want us to be friends. I’m taking a chance on you. Maybe I’m wrong, but I feel I can trust you.”
“You can, I promise.”
“I believe you. So every time I come here, we’ll get together, and I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Does that mean I have to tell you my secrets?”
“No. But it does mean you can tell me anything, and know in your heart that no matter what happens, I’ll never tell anyone.”
“Wow.”
How could I not find her beyond amazing after an introduction like that? In less than an hour I felt closer to Nicki than I did to most of my life-long friends. And so I told her some of the silly things that didn’t really matter, little confessions about the stuff me and my friends had done, and she asked about my closest friends, and I told her about Ellie and Holly, and about how smooth Holly is with the boys and how awkward I am, and in the visits that followed, as we got closer and closer I confided bigger things, like how I smoked weed a couple of times and got sick, and how some of my friends did a line of coke at a party and made fun of me for backing out. And how me, Ellie, and Holly snuck out one night so Ellie could hook up with some random guy she met online who turned out to be a 30-year-old pervert, and how we realized he could have killed or raped us, and how terrified we were at the time, but laugh about it now.
Last March Nicki and Michael came for the weekend, and as always she and I talked in my room for hours, and she asked me about my friends, and I told her how cute Holly is and how brave Ellie is, and about all the friendship promises we made to each other. I told her how the guys at school have been coming on to us, and how Holly, me, and Ellie had a sleepover and snuck some beers and worked on our kissing techniques by kissing each other and pretending we were kissing boys, and how we couldn’t stop laughing about it, and how we took pictures and called each other gay and threatened to out each other on Snapchat, and—
“Except that you weren’t pretending with Holly,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“You enjoyed kissing her.”
For a split second I was mad. But the way Nicki kept looking at me with those big green eyes I could tell she really cared. Still, I didn’t want her to think less of me, so I was about to tell her she was wrong about my feelings, but then she said, “I wish Holly didn’t like the boys so much.”
“Why?”
“Because she’d be perfect for you.”
“I’m not gay,” I said, indignantly.
“I never said you were, Jess. But love is love.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means love is so fucking hard to find, I think our hearts should be open to all possibilities. Ask me if I’d consider having sex with a girl.”
“Would you?”
“Absolutely!”
“Whaaa? You?”
“Absolutely. Assuming I had feelings for her. And as my friend, I’d hope you’d be okay with that.”
“Of course I would. But…what about Michael?”
“What about him?”
“Would you ever cheat on him?”
“If I answer honestly, will it be our secret?”
“Of course! Always!”
8.
NICKI SAID, “MICHAEL and I fight all the time. It’s exhausting. If I had to place odds on us lasting another month, I’d bet no.”
“How come?”
“He wants to get married and have kids, and I don’t. So yeah, if the right person came along, I’d probably cheat on him.”
“What if that person was a girl?”
“A girl?”
“Or, you know, a woman.”
“I hope it is a woman…or a girl…of legal age.”
“Sixteen’s legal in Kentucky!” I blurted out.
/> She arched her brows. “Is it?”
I felt my face turning red. “I think so.”
“If the girl was that much younger than me I’d have to be convinced she found me super attractive.”
“How could she not? You’re gorgeous!”
“You’re the one who’s gorgeous, Jess. I’d kill to have your legs. Not to mention your cheekbones.”
I blushed like an idiot, then shocked myself by asking: “Will you promise me something?”
“Probably. But I need to know what it is first.”
“If you ever cheat on Michael, will you tell me?”
She frowned. “That could put me in a tough situation, since he’s your brother.”
“It wouldn’t matter. I’d take your side no matter what.”
“Then…yes,” she said.
“But I want every last detail,” I said. “No matter how small. You can’t leave anything out.”
“Of course. But in that case you’ll have to make me a promise.”
“Like what?”
“The first time you have sex…”
“Omigod!” I screamed, and we laughed so hard Michael knocked on the door and asked if everything was all right. And all I could think about from that day on was how Nicki—not Holly—was the one who was perfect for me. And that night when she and Michael went to a bar I snuck in their room and stole the cutest pair of panties from her suitcase, and never told her about it till today. And the way I spun it, making it look like Daddy stole them, was probably worth an extra four million dollars of insurance money for my family, so it turned out to be a good thing.
By the way, Nicki was right about her and Michael: the very next month they did break up. She came to the house to talk to Mom and me about it. After talking to Mom out on the gazebo, she came to my room and we visited and she could tell I was upset and asked me why and that’s when I told her that Mom was cheating on Daddy.
9.
“ARE YOU SURE?” Nicki asked.
“Yup.”
“Does your dad know?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How’d you find out?”
I told her how Mom has a secret phone I found by accident, and even though she had a privacy code on it, it was simple to figure out as she stupidly used her birth year. “She only used the phone for this guy and never erased the call history or any of their texts.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“One of our neighbors.”
“Is he good looking?”
“God no! But if you ever read their texts you’d think he was George Clooney.”
Nicki said, “Personally I don’t find George Clooney attractive at all.”
I laughed. “Me either. I was really just trying to think of someone old that Mom might think was good looking.”
Last night I told Nicki two of my biggest secrets. I told her I loved her, and wanted to be with her, and I also told her I was adopted. I think the only secret I haven’t told her or anyone else is the one I’ll never tell, ’cause I don’t want to hurt her feelings. It involves Daddy, and how two weeks ago he said never to trust Nicki.
“She’s a master manipulator,” he said. “Don’t ever trust her.” Of course I defended her, and he got furious and called Nicki the c-word and said, “She’ll never step foot in this house again!” Of course, he’d been drinking heavily, and I know now that he had a huge crush on her, and this would have been around the time she turned him down after he sent her a ton of money to get her to leave Michael and run off with him, so it makes sense he’d be mad at her.
But that’s all behind us now because Daddy hanged himself, and Michael sexually assaulted Nicki, and she decided to leave him once and for all, and I confessed my feelings for her, and she melted in my arms, and now we’re hopelessly in love. And while I’m miserable about Daddy, I’m insanely happy about my new relationship with Nicki, whose actual name might be Katie, according to the jerk detective who’s been harassing her since the moment he showed up to investigate Daddy’s death. But I don’t care if her name is Nicki, Katie, or Phineas and Ferb. I love her, and we’re gonna be together forever.
At this exact moment Detective Broadus finally ended his witch hunt, and he and Detective Rudd just left. Mom asked Nicki if they could speak privately, and I can’t wait to hear what that’s all about. Of course, I won’t have to wait long, since I know Nicki will tell me every last detail soon enough.
My biggest problem is Michael. Ever since last night he’s been treating Nicki like shit. But when she gave him her checkbook he started acting differently. I know he’s gonna do what he always does: beg her to come back.
But this time it’s not gonna work. This time she’s got me. And I’m not gonna let anything come between me and Nicki. Not Michael, not Mom, not anyone.
10.
Alison
I’M IN MY hotel room staring at Nicki Hill, the young woman I thought I knew. But it’s not Nicki, it’s Katie Walker, and she’s staring back at me defiantly, daring me to say what we both know I’m thinking…and so I do: “How much does Michael know about your background?”
“Just the stuff you told him about the foster homes.”
“How many times have you changed your name?”
“Are you including who I was before I became Katie Walker?”
“No.”
“Then…just twice. I actually used the name Alison for a while.”
“Alison what?”
“Henry.”
“When was that?”
“The first time I got engaged.”
“You were married?”
“No. It didn’t work out.”
“There’s a shock.”
“But the guy was hard to shake, so I became Nicki Hill. And then I met Michael.”
“Nice catching up with you. You’re quite the little slut, aren’t you.”
“Is that why you wanted to visit? So you could insult me?”
“Partly. But I really wanted to ask how you could do this to Michael. And why would you?”
“You know why.”
I do know, Katie, I just can’t believe it. “For more than a year you’ve—”
“Call me Katie again and I’ll walk out that door. And while we’re at it, let’s be precise on the timeline: it’s been eighteen months, three days, seventeen hours and…” she checks her phone. “Nine minutes since I started dating Michael. All torture.”
“What is it you want?”
“Please don’t insult me. You’ve pieced it together.”
As I stare at Nicki’s calm, beautiful face and try to imagine the severely damaged brain hiding behind her ever-innocent sea-green eyes, I think back to the moment I met her, knowing now, for the first time—who she is and what she’s been up to from day one. It seems impossible she could have come across so shy, sweet, polite, and charming. That day she won my whole family over. And now she’s shaking me down.
“How much?” I say.
“Two million.”
It’s all falling into place. “So you were blackmailing David.”
“No. Everything I told Detective Broadus was 100% true. Um…with two exceptions. I know it hurts your ego to hear this, but your husband really did want to run off with me. He begged me to take the money.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She shrugs.
“Nor do I believe he stole your panties.”
She smiles. “I told you that story. Not Detective Broadus.”
“So you admit you lied.”
“It’s to our mutual benefit that you get the extra four million, is it not?”
“How’d you get Jessie to back you up?”
“We’re in love.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it: all those hours alone in her bedroom with the door shut? How do you think my panties wound up under your daughter’s mattress?”
My reaction is swift: I launch the hardest slap to her face I can muster, but she ca
tches my hand in mid-air, crushes it in her grip, and slaps my face so hard with her other hand I barely maintain consciousness.
“Big mistake, Alison,” she says. “I’m a lot tougher than I look. You’d understand that better if you’d suffered years of abuse like I have. Sorry about your hand.”
She releases it and just in time, as I’m certain she was within seconds of breaking my fingers. She seems to have almost superhuman strength. I expect she could kill me with her bare hands.
With tears streaming down my cheeks I ask:
11.
“DID YOU EVER hit Michael that hard?”
“No. Unlike you, he never tried to hit me. Are you crying, Alison?”
“No. Were you crying when my 15-year-old slapped you?”
“No. But I hit harder.”
“No shit you do!”
Nicki smiles.
I rub my rapidly-swelling face and ask, “If you told Broadus the truth about all but two things I assume one of the lies you told was about not having an affair with David.”
“I didn’t lie. I never touched your husband. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, you certainly touched my son. And apparently my daughter?”
“Yes and no. With regard to Michael, he and I never had what you’d call traditional sex. He tried, obviously, but I had no interest. Jessie’s a different story. Our relationship is real, and physical, and I’m going to ask you to respect it.”
“That will never happen,” I say, fighting the urge to go for her throat.
“We don’t have to be friends, Alison. But you do have to let Jess and I explore our relationship. Not that there’s anything you can do about it. I mean, we’re going to be together whether you like it or not.”
“Nicki, you’re a sick, fucking, degenerate…”
“I’m waiting for a noun, Alison. Surely there’s a noun coming.”
“…Pedophile!”
“Ouch.”
“You knew she was underage. You could go to prison for what you’ve done.”
“What have I done?”
“You just admitted molesting my underage daughter.”
