A Simple Favor
Page 27
“That’s right, Stephanie,” said the memory prodigy, Fortas.
“Well, did you know that she subsequently moved in with my husband? Did you know that they planned to get married? Do you know that he gave her his mother’s ring, my ring, and that they both felt just great about that? They thought that my husband giving my ring to my best friend was something I would have wanted. Can you believe that?”
“My God,” Detective Meany said, sounding horrified by my husband and my best friend’s treachery. “I assume you have this . . . Stephanie’s current contact information.”
“Her number and her address,” I said. “I can tell you that without even needing to look it up. And if you need more information about her relationship with my husband, I can give you a link to her blog. My impression is that he’s dumped her by now, but that’s no longer of any interest to me, as you can well imagine.”
The police could well imagine. They wrote everything down. They had Stephanie in their sights.
I was remembering another thing that the poker champs told me about the fish. You know the fish is going to lose, but not when. You never know which hand is going to catch the fish and leave it flopping, gasping on the ground.
If the police had been less incompetent, less bumbling, they would have arrested me right then and there, on suspicion. Or at least they would have asked me to come in to answer more questions. Instead they left—hot on Stephanie’s trail, I imagined—and politely asked me not to go too far. I promised that I wouldn’t.
After the police left, I waited a little while. I took several deep breaths to clear my mind. Then I went into Nicky’s room and took out some of his things and began to pack. It was time to leave. It was time for Nicky and me to head into the sunset, or sunrise, whichever. To go off the grid for a while. We would take a break, see what happens.
I got Nicky’s passport and both of mine—the fake passport and the real one—just in case we needed them. Maybe we would visit Sean for a few days. Maybe I’d toy with him. Torment him. Maybe I could be the cat again—with yet another mouse.
I’d been expecting this. Planning this. Preparing for something like this, for a very long time. For my whole life, you could say.
I’d never been less scared. I felt young and excited and brave.
I felt happy to be alive.
About the Author
darcey bell was born in 1981 and raised on a dairy farm in western Iowa. She is a preschool teacher in Chicago. This is her first novel.
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Copyright
a simple favor. Copyright © 2017 by Seven Acres, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
first edition
Cover design by Milan Bozic
Cover photograph © Marta Bevacqua / Trevillion Images
Digital Edition MARCH 2017 ISBN: 9780062497796
Print ISBN: 9780062666338 (International)
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