Cole waited until they were out of the police station and halfway down the block before he swung around and punched Dylan in the face.
Dylan staggered backwards. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he yelled, putting one hand over his eye.
"I was going to ask you the same question," Cole said, shaking out his right hand, which was stinging from the force of his blow. "I saw the closet, Dylan. I saw the photos of Emily. I know you were obsessed with her. Don't even try to deny it."
"You broke into my apartment?"
"That's beside the point. Now, are you going to tell me, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Cole's hand clenched once more into a fist.
Dylan took a step back. "It's not what you think."
"You don't know what I think. I don't even know what I think." Cole shook his head. "You look like the guy I grew up with, but I don't know you at all, do I? Did you and Emily ..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. "God! I trusted you with her. I told you to take care of her. Watch out for her. Make sure she was safe. And all the time, you were—"
"I did take care of her, and we didn't do anything wrong," Dylan said. "We were friends. That's it. She never knew I loved her. Okay? She never knew."
Cole heard the raw pain in Dylan's voice, saw the agony in his old friend's eyes, and felt his anger begin to seep away. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Finally, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me how you felt?"
Dylan shrugged. "It wasn't your business."
"She was my sister."
"That still didn't make it your business. Emily had a right to her privacy. Your family watched over her like a hawk. When she got here, she was finally free. I couldn't take that away from her by reporting back to you. And I didn't want to take it away from her. She was happier than I'd ever seen her."
It hurt Cole to know that Emily had been happier here in Santa Cruz than she'd been at home with the family, but in the last week he'd come to a better understanding of why she might have felt that way. He just wished she'd trusted him enough to confide in him. "I might have been able to help," he said aloud. "With my parents. I might have been able to talk them into giving Em more freedom at home if I'd known she was feeling so trapped. She should have told me. You should have told me." He paused. "Why didn't you ever tell her how you felt about her?"
Dylan dug his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "I never thought it was the right time. And I didn't want things to change between us. I didn't want it to get awkward and uncomfortable. Then it was too late."
"Then it was too late," Cole echoed, as he let out a long, weary sigh.
"We can talk about this later," Dylan said.
"Right now I need a ride back to the university. Can you take me?"
"On one condition. You tell me why you think Greg Martin is Garrett Malone."
* * *
"Are you sure Diane Thomas is married to Professor Martin?" Natalie asked, still pondering Laura's latest bombshell as they walked across campus toward the Panhellenic Offices where Diane worked. "The last names aren't the same. And I don't remember her mentioning her husband."
"She told me once that she'd kept her maiden name when she got married," Laura replied. "At the time I thought that was so sophisticated." She paused. "I could be wrong though. Maybe it was some other professor. She was very closemouthed about her private life. What are we going to do? We can't just walk into her office and ask her if her husband wrote a best-selling novel about us."
"I think we should do exactly that," Madison said. "It's a little late to beat around the bush."
"Madison is right," Natalie agreed as they entered the building. "We can't afford to waste any more time. We need answers now." She paused for a moment outside Diane's door. "Before we go in, I just want to say I'm glad we're doing this together. It feels right, you know?"
"I know," Laura said softly, a smile on her face.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Madison said with a wave of her hand. "We'll do the mushy stuff later." And with that she knocked on the door.
Natalie felt a rush of adrenaline course through her as Diane's voice called them in. They were getting close to the truth. She could smell it.
Diane got up from her desk the moment she saw them. She was ten years older but still an attractive blonde. She was dressed in black slacks, a turquoise blouse, and a black jacket and looked every inch the sophisticated woman Natalie remembered. She'd been in her late twenties when they'd been in college and had been the perfect adviser, young enough to understand them, old enough to give advice.
"Natalie," she said. "This is a surprise. You didn't mention you were coming down here when we spoke yesterday. Madison, Laura," she added.
"I didn't know I was coming at the time. But things have changed."
"What things?" Diane asked quickly. "Do you have new information?"
"I do," Natalie said. She paused as Madison picked up a picture frame on the bookshelf behind Diane's desk and turned it toward them.
"Is this your husband, Diane?" Madison asked.
"Yes," Diane said warily.
"That's Professor Martin," Laura said.
"Is there a problem?" Diane's gaze darted about the room as if she were looking for a way out.
"Is that why you called me, Diane?" Natalie asked. "Were you trying to find out what I knew? So you could report back to your husband?"
Diane couldn't hide the fear that leaped into her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"We know, Diane. We traced Malone to Jerry Williams to your husband, Professor Greg Martin. It's only a matter of time before we find the actual connection between Mr. Williams and your husband. If you want to wait for the police to question you, that's fine with me. I'm sure they'll be along shortly. Or you can talk to me."
"All right, fine." Diane walked over and shut the door. "Greg did write that book, but I had no idea until a few months ago that he'd done it."
"Oh, please," Madison said in disbelief. "How could you not know?"
"I knew he was working on a novel. He's been working on novels for years. He's an English professor, for God's sake. He loves books. I didn't think anything about it. He certainly never told me what he was doing."
"Where did he get the information about us?" Natalie asked. "Did he have Emily's journal?"
"What?" Diane asked in confusion. "No, I don't think he had a journal. He told me he made up the story based on things he heard from other students after Emily died." She offered Natalie an apologetic smile. "I realize you're not painted particularly well."
"That's an understatement. Your husband called me a murderer. He said I pushed Emily off the roof and killed her."
"He told me that no one was supposed to know it was you or that the story was based on anything real."
"I don't believe that for a second. I think he wanted everyone to know," Natalie said. "That's why he wrote the book, to tell Emily's story. Only he got it wrong."
"Did he?" Diane asked, her voice turning hard. "Is this about protecting Emily or protecting yourself? It was no secret that you were drunk that night, Natalie, and that you didn't remember any thing. It was also known that you and Emily had a fight. If you'd stuck around, you would have heard all those rumors and more. Ask Laura, she'll tell you."
Natalie didn't bother to look at Laura, keeping her attention fixed on Diane, who was obviously trying to get herself off the hook. "I want to talk to your husband. Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"I think you do. He's in a lot of trouble, you know. I can sue him for libel."
"You won't win."
"I don't have to win to make your life miserable," Natalie said pointedly. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm scared, Diane, because I'm not. I'm furious. And if you think I'm going to sit by and let your husband's book ruin my career and the lives of my friends and most especially Emily's memory, think again."
Diane put up a hand in surrender. "Look, I honestly don't know where he is right now. And you have to un
derstand that I had nothing to do with this. If I had known Greg was writing about Emily, I would have put a stop to it, but I didn't know until the book was published. You have to believe me."
Natalie didn't know whether she believed Diane or not, but it was a moot point. "The question is not what you knew when but what are you going to do about it now?"
Before Diane could answer, someone knocked on her door. Diane moved quickly to answer it. A woman waited in the hall, an expectant look on her face. "Ready for the game?" she asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had people in your office."
"I'm ready," Diane said quickly. "Would you give me one second?" Shutting the door once more, she turned back to Natalie. "I'll try to find Greg and have him get in touch with you. Are you staying overnight in Santa Cruz, or are you going home?"
"That depends on your husband," Natalie said. She leaned over and wrote her cell phone number on a piece of paper on Diane's desk.
Diane picked up the paper and put it in her purse, grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. "Are you going by the sorority house?"
"We're headed there now."
"You may not be warmly received, Natalie. A lot of the girls have read the book."
"I'm not scared of them, either."
Diane opened the door and motioned them into the hall. She locked her office and then walked off with the friend who was waiting for her.
Natalie blew out a breath, then glanced at Madison and Laura, realizing the two hadn't said a word in a long time. They were staring at her with varying degrees of astonishment. "What?" she asked. "Did I say something wrong?"
"You were amazing," Laura said. "You were so tough with Diane."
"You grew up good," Madison continued with an approving smile. "You kicked her butt."
"Thanks, but the butt I really need to kick belongs to her husband."
"Let's go," Madison said, taking off at a brisk pace.
"What's the hurry?" Natalie asked as she and Laura jogged to keep up with Madison's long strides.
"I think we should follow Diane. Actually, I'll follow her. My guess is that she'll run straight to her husband. You two go back to the sorority house. Maybe being there will jog your memory, Natalie."
"We'll go with you," Natalie said, realizing Madison was right. Diane would probably head straight for her husband.
"It will be easier for me to do it on my own," Madison replied. "I'll be able to fade into the crowd, and I walk faster than both of you. If she sees the three of us, she may not go to him. I'll catch up with you later," she added, as they walked outside. She broke into a jog as Diane and her friend turned the corner, disappearing from view.
"I guess that's that," Natalie said to Laura. "Shall we go to the house?"
"We can take that path through the trees," Laura said, as they changed course. "It's a shortcut."
"I remember. It feels strange to be back here. So much time has passed and yet it feels like yesterday. It's probably worse for you, Laura. You spent four years here."
"It's easier for me. I have good memories as well as bad ones." Laura sighed as they walked through a thick grove of trees. "The last time I came down this path was after graduation. Drew and I were walking back to the house, still wearing our gowns and holding our diplomas. And he ..." She stopped and pointed to a nearby tree. "He kissed me right there. He said he loved me, and he couldn't wait to get started on the rest of our life together." A tear spilled from the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away. "Those really were the good old days."
"I'm sorry." Natalie wasn't sure how to respond. She was hardly the expert on relationships or marriage. "Maybe you can get the good old days back."
"I don't think that's possible. I can't even find Drew. I've left him a dozen messages, and he hasn't returned one of them. The last time I called I told him I was coming down here to Santa Cruz to figure out who wrote the book. I thought that would get his attention, since he wanted me to stay out of it. Oh, who am I kidding? He probably doesn't give a damn what I'm doing."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"At least I know he's not Malone. I have to admit I almost started thinking he was."
Natalie saw the guilty look in Laura's eyes and knew she'd played a part in putting it there. "I'm sorry if I implied that when I asked you to look for the journal. It's just that Drew was in L.A. and he knew so much about us ..."
"I know. I also started thinking about what Madison said, that Drew had gone to Emily's room that night, and I wondered if he'd gone out on that roof with her." Laura clapped a hand over her mouth. "I can't believe I just said that out loud."
"I can't, either." Natalie wondered if Laura's instincts were correct.
"It's just that things aren't adding up right—the bank statements, the business trips," Laura said, drawing from some inner well of courage Natalie didn't even know she had. "Yesterday I went by Drew's office, and dad told me that Drew isn't in L.A. on business; he's taking personal leave. Why is he taking personal leave? What's he doing? Is he having an affair? Or does it have something to do with the book, with Malone? He had Malone's travel itinerary in his pocket. But that doesn't explain the money, does it?" Laura sent Natalie an imploring look. "What am I missing? You were always the smart one. You could always add things up. Add them up for me."
Natalie shook her head, her brain whirling with the information Laura had just given her. If Drew had been in Emily's room that night, what had he seen? What had he heard? Had he gone out on the roof with Emily? Had they had some fight? Was he behind the book? Would that explain the money? Before she could ask, Laura started talking again.
"I need to speak to Drew," Laura continued. "I need to confront him, ask him outright what he's doing and who he's doing it with. I've been afraid to ask those questions, because I'm not sure I want to know the answers."
"Knowing is always better than not knowing," Natalie said, remembering how frustrated she'd felt with Cole all those years ago when he hadn't been up-front with her. "Then you can deal with what is instead of what might be."
"You're right. It's just that I've been trying to hang on to Drew since the day I met him, and I don't know how to let go. I married him because he was the cutest, sexiest, smartest guy I'd ever gone out with and because my parents thought he was perfect. I had kids right away so he'd find it hard to leave. I even encouraged him to buy the big house, because deep down I figured that the mortgage would be one more tie that he wouldn't be able to cut. Despite the many ropes I've thrown around the man, he seems to be slipping away from me."
Natalie stared at Laura in amazement. "Wow, that's quite a bit of psychoanalysis."
"I watch a lot of daytime talk shows," Laura admitted with a guilty smile.
"Maybe you should turn off the television."
"You think that will help?"
"It can't hurt. If you really want to change the pattern of your life and your relationship, it seems to me you have to make some changes. Maybe you have to be willing to risk losing Drew in order to keep him. And if you want to keep him, you have to fight for him with everything you've got."
Laura nodded. "You really are smart, Natalie."
Natalie uttered a little laugh. "It's easy to tell other people what to do. I don't have to live with the consequences. It's much harder to make decisions about my own life."
"Speaking of which ..."
Natalie let out a small groan. "Don't go there."
Laura ignored her. "What are you going to do about Cole?"
"I have no idea."
"You must have some idea of what you want."
"What I want and what's going to happen are two different things. I understand Cole better now, Laura. I know why he ran from me before. Maybe those reasons aren't there anymore, but we have new, insurmountable problems between us."
"Like what?"
"Like his parents. Richard and Janet hate me. They can't look at me without thinking about the loss of their daughter. His father already told Cole that he wo
uld have to choose between me and his family. He can't make that choice. I wouldn't want him to. They're a family, and I know better than anyone how important and precious a family is." She sighed. "As soon as this is done, I'm going to say good-bye, and that's going to be it—forever. I'll leave San Francisco. I'll start over somewhere else. That's the way it has to be. We can both get on with our lives."
"I don't want you to do that," Laura said in dismay. "We've just found each other again—you, me, and Madison. I don't want to lose you, Natalie."
"You won't. We'll stay in touch this time. But I don't want to talk about this right now. We have enough things to worry about in the present. Let's leave the future to another day."
* * *
"I'm still waiting for you to tell me how you figured out Malone was Martin," Cole said, as he pulled up next to Dylan's motorcycle, parked in a lot near the professor's office building.
"I was talking to Madison the other day, and she mentioned that Emily was interested in someone before she died. I started remembering things Emily had said to me, and I knew Madison was right. There was another man in Em's life. When I went back to my apartment, I looked through the closet, where I'd stored some of Emily's things—"
"When you helped me clean out her room in Santa Cruz, you kept some of her stuff, didn't you?" Cole interrupted.
"Only things we worked on together. Emily was helping me plan my club back then. We'd drawn up ideas for games, magic acts, shows, virtual-reality stories. I knew she kept them in a drawer in her desk, so I dumped that drawer in a box and kept it for myself. I really didn't think it would matter to anyone but me. When I went through the box the other night, I found a film strip from the boardwalk, one of those places you go to take pictures of yourself and a friend. When I saw the guy in the pictures, I recognized him as the professor Emily met with for supposed tutoring. All the puzzle pieces fell into place. Emily told Madison the guy she wanted was unattainable, and the professor was married. I figured he was the guy Emily was— was in love with."
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