Duplicity

by Ingrid Thoft

  “I think you’re right,” he said, and disappeared.

  Fina went home and slept until her alarm sounded at three p.m. She took a long, hot shower and finished the chocolate bar that Milloy had purchased at the hospital. Rather than get behind the wheel, she summoned a car from Uber and stared out the window during the drive to Cambridge. Her head still ached, but the rest of her body was suffused with a sense of calm. No one was after her. For now, anyway.

  Carl was sitting in his car outside Ceci’s house when she arrived, and they wordlessly climbed the stairs to the front door. Fina wasn’t sure what was stopping her father from talking, but she was too angry and tired to make any unnecessary conversation.

  The maid let them in and led them to the same room in which the case had started. Ceci and Chloe were seated on the couch, a fire throwing heat into the room. They got to their feet and hugged Fina and greeted Carl. Ceci motioned for Chloe and Fina to sit on the couch, and she and Carl took the wing chairs. It felt very much like there was a divide between the children and the adults, though Fina didn’t think that had been Ceci’s intent.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Ceci asked Fina, her eyes squinting with concern. “You don’t look good.”

  “I think I’m coming down with something.” She’d surrendered her coat to the maid, but tugged the scarf around her neck a little tighter.

  “Do you feel up to meeting?”

  “I’m fine. I didn’t want to postpone this conversation.”

  Chloe sat still next to Fina. A small part of Fina felt badly about what was coming next, but Chloe was a grown-up. She’d manage.

  Ceci seemed to sense that Fina’s patience was limited, so although she gestured toward a tray with tea, coffee, and cookies, she assumed a posture of intent listening.

  “Yesterday,” Fina began, “I forwarded a compilation of information to the Office of the Attorney General.”

  Ceci glanced at Chloe.

  “I don’t believe that Nadine Quaynor’s death is related to Covenant Rising, but I do believe that Greg and Gabby Gatchell are guilty of various crimes, including fraud.”

  “Do you have proof?” Chloe asked.

  “Enough to satisfy the attorney general? I don’t know. My hope is that they’ll launch a full-scale investigation and gain access to records that are beyond my reach. But I’ve seen enough evidence to convince me that they are getting donations under false pretenses and then using that money inappropriately and probably illegally.”

  No one spoke. Ceci reached out to touch her daughter’s hand. Chloe didn’t pull away, but she didn’t grasp her mother’s hand, either. She merely tolerated the touch.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Chloe,” Fina said. “I know the church means a great deal to you, and I’m sure there are many decent, principled people in the congregation. Perhaps those of you who are truly committed will figure out a way to weather this.”

  “Can you give us more specifics about the malfeasance?” Carl asked. Ceci shot him a grateful look, and Fina understood that he was asking the tough questions so Ceci didn’t have to.

  “There’s a fund called the Frontier Fund, which is supposed to be used to support an orphanage in Angola.”

  “And it does,” Chloe insisted.

  “No, it doesn’t.” Fina fought to rein in her frustration. “I couldn’t find any evidence that this orphanage existed. In fact, when I expressed interest in supporting a specific child, Pastor Greg promised that was possible, only for me to discover that my ‘orphan’ was an adorable black kid who’s all over the Internet.”

  “But how can you know exactly what’s going on in Africa?” Chloe asked.

  “That’s precisely Pastor Greg’s thinking. No one was in a position to dispute his account of the orphanage, but I have an expert who took a closer look, and no one in Angola had ever heard of Covenant Rising.”

  “That’s the sort of thing the AG can delve into,” Carl added.

  Fina nodded. “I think Greg and Gabby have been using the money to fund their lifestyle, which is quite cushy for a pastor and his wife who draws no salary.”

  “Are you referring to the houses and cars?” Ceci asked.

  “Yes. And the trips and the luxurious standard of living they enjoy.”

  Chloe leaned forward on the couch. “Is that it?”

  “Actually, two other things,” Fina said, touching her arm. “The behavior of a couple of other people should give you pause. Lucas Chellew, Greg’s right-hand man, sent me a series of threatening letters. I haven’t revealed this to the cops or to the Gatchells, but I want you to know. He’s not dangerous, but he’s not a good guy, either.”

  Chloe looked like she might be ill. That was just what Fina needed—to be puked on.

  “What’s the second thing?” Carl asked.

  “Gabby Gatchell has been having an affair with a young congregant. This has no bearing on any criminal case, but I think you should be aware of the Gatchells’ hypocrisy. Greg is aware of the affair, and yet, they judge other people mercilessly and hold themselves up as models of good Christian behavior. I don’t care if people sleep around, but don’t judge me while you break every covenant you claim to hold sacred.”

  Fina didn’t have the energy to fill the awkward silence that followed. Her tanks were empty.

  “Under the circumstances, Chloe,” Carl finally said, “I strongly suggest you put the brakes on that bequest.”

  Chloe looked at him, her eyes glistening. “I feel so stupid.”

  “Oh, Chloe,” her mother said sympathetically.

  “You have nothing to feel badly about,” Fina assured her. “The Gatchells took advantage of a lot of people. I agree with my father, though. This isn’t the moment to make a large donation to the church.”

  “What’s going to happen to the church?” she wondered. “All of the good work they do.”

  “All of the good work you do—you and your fellow congregants,” Fina insisted. “That doesn’t have to stop.”

  Chloe nodded. “I need some air,” she said, and left the room.

  “I’m sorry, Ceci,” Carl said, glancing toward the door. He reached out and squeezed Ceci’s hand. Fina watched. A look passed between her father and Ceci that held more than lawyer-client appreciation. It held more than the looks that ever passed between Carl and Elaine.

  “I’m not,” Ceci said, shaking her head. “Of course, I’m sorry that Chloe’s heart is broken, but she had to know the truth. These people are charlatans.”

  Fina stood and took a step closer to the fire. She was feeling chilled, not sure if it was the meeting or her compromised physical condition that was having that effect.

  Carl and Ceci started to debate the bill, and Fina studied the photos on the mantel. There were graduation photos and a candid shot of the Renards on a sailboat. Another showed Ceci and Victor Renard dressed to the nines, presumably at a gala or charity event. Next to that was a baby photo that looked like Chloe. She wore a white dress that puffed out around her on a velvety pillow.

  It was the next photo, however, that took Fina’s breath away. It was another baby photo, but this time the child was propped up on a couch, smiling at the camera.

  “Who is this baby?” Fina asked, interrupting Carl and Ceci’s discussion.

  Ceci looked askance at Carl before answering. “That’s my eldest daughter, Veronique.”

  Fina steadied herself with a hand on the mantel.

  “We should be going,” her father insisted, rising to his feet.

  “How old is she now?” Fina asked.

  Ceci stood and kneaded her hands together. “She’s thirty-eight. I’ll have Iris fetch your coats.” She threw a glance at Carl and left the room.

  Fina studied the picture, tracing the edge of the frame with her fingertip. Veronique looked nothing like Ceci, but she looked a hell
of a lot like Carl. If Fina hadn’t known better, she would have sworn she was looking at a photo of her dead sister, Josie.

  She glared at her father, shaking her head.

  “I told you it was complicated,” Carl hissed.

  Fina opened her mouth to speak, but for once, words failed her. She pushed past him and made her way toward the front door, where Ceci was taking their coats from the maid. Fina grabbed her coat and threw open the front door.

  “Fina, wait!” her father called after her.

  She broke into a slow jog, her head pounding with each step, putting as much distance as possible between them.

  A million miles wouldn’t be enough.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to the friends who sustain me with their good humor, wisdom, lunches out, sales pitches on my behalf, and careful readings of manuscripts: Lauri Bortscheller Nakamoto, Davenie Susi Pereira, Catalina Arboleda, Matina Madrick, and Allison Walker Chader.

  In the course of writing this book, my wonderful agent, Helen Brann, passed away. I miss her wicked sense of humor and unwavering support. Thanks to Carol White at the Helen Brann Agency, who was wonderful during a difficult time and eased the transition to my new home. I am enormously grateful to now have an amazing team working on my behalf at ICM. Thank you, Esther Newberg and Kari Stuart, for championing me and Fina. Cheers to Zoe Sandler for keeping the administrative wheels turning.

  I feel extraordinarily lucky to have the guidance and support of the people at Putnam. Under the leadership of Ivan Held, every department has done a fantastic job bringing Fina and the Ludlows to readers. The art department and the sales, marketing, and publicity teams do essential work, which I greatly appreciate. I’d also like to thank Christine Ball, Sally Kim, Carrie Swetonic, Alexis Welby, and Ashley Pattison McClay. Katie Grinch is a terrific publicist who works tirelessly and juggles many details to smooth the way for Fina in the book world. My editor, Chris Pepe, is the best. She makes me a better writer and is a tremendous friend. I’m honored to work with her.

  Thanks to Mary Alice Kier and Anna Cottle for representing Fina so well in Hollywood. I appreciate their perseverance as we’ve navigated the never boring world of TV.

  One of the unexpected joys of my work as a writer has been the opportunity to develop friendships with other writers. Reed Farrel Coleman and Ace Atkins have supported me and been extremely generous with their time and advice. It’s amazing to find that the writers you admire are also wonderful people whom you can call friends. Whether at events or in the Twittersphere, I’m continually delighted by David Joy, Meg Gardiner, Jeffrey Siger, Barbara Zilly, Tim Hallinan, Eleanor Brown, and Hank Phillippi Ryan.

  Writers Chevy Stevens and Carla Buckley are never more than a text away, thankfully. Their loyalty, cheerleading, and appreciation of a good cocktail are priceless.

  I’ve had the honor of spending time with Detective Jim Garner and Officer Mike Virgilio of the Seattle Police Department, who have been nothing but gracious when answering my seemingly endless questions and educating me about their work. They are a credit to their profession and department, and I can’t thank them enough for sharing their expertise with me. I’m so glad that Fina provided an entrée to meet them, and I blame her for any subsequent inaccuracies or misrepresentations of the Boston Police Department and its members.

  I am indebted to booksellers and librarians who connect readers to my books and fight the good fight for books and literacy. The Seattle Public Library, the Seattle Mystery Bookshop, the Poisoned Pen Bookstore, Murder By The Book, and Liberty Bay Books have been supportive since day one. Thank you so much.

  My family deserves a huge shout-out: Erika Thoft-Brown, Chris Thoft-Brown, Owen Thoft-Brown, Sophie Thoft-Brown, Riley Thoft-Brown, Lisa Thoft, Cole Nagel-Thoft, Arden Nagel-Thoft, Kirsten Thoft, Ted Nadeau, Zoe Nadeau, Ella Nadeau, Escher Nadeau, and last but never least, Sharon Padia Stone.

  My mom, Judith Stone Thoft, continues to be my first reader and brainstorm buddy. She helps me do the work I love, and we have lots of fun along the way.

  Words fail me when it comes to my husband, Doug Berrett. There’s no one else I’d rather spend each day with.

  Last, thank you to the readers who have embraced Fina and the Ludlows in all their glorious dysfunction. Thank you for spreading the word about the series and cheering me on via social media. I love to hear from you; keep in touch!

  Ingrid@ingridthoft.com

  www.ingridthoft.com

  https://www.facebook.com/IngridThoftauthor/

  @ingridthoft

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ingrid Thoft, author of the critically acclaimed novels Identity, Loyalty, and Brutality, was born in Boston, Massachusetts, and is a graduate of Wellesley College. Her desire to create a believable P.I. character led her to the certificate program in private investigation at the University of Washington. She lives in Seattle with her husband.

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