The Arrangement

by Kiersten Modglin

  “I know.” Without allowing me to finish, she pulled the door open and marched out. “I’ll see you at six.”

  As I watched her disappear from the lobby, a sharp, ragged breath escaped my lungs, and I clutched my chest. I hurried over to the door, watching her climb into a red Hyundai Santa Fe and realized it matched the description of the car my employees had seen outside the branch Saturday morning.

  How long had Illiana De Luca been looking for me?

  And what was she planning to do now that she’d found me?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  PETER

  My job was to get the kids out of the house while Ainsley attempted to talk to the woman who wanted to ruin our lives. Sounds simple enough, right?

  My wife wanted to talk to her, to explain a few things. I thought it was dangerous, thought it was reckless to bring someone into our world, to tell her Ainsley had known her husband at all.

  Ainsley said we had no choice.

  Getting the kids to go to friends’ houses was no problem; they were always excited to get out of the house, so my only responsibility was dropping them each off at their respective locations.

  Ainsley had told me to stay away from the house, but I couldn’t. I needed to be there. To protect her. To help her in case she got stuck in a lie. So, when I walked back through the front door only forty-five minutes after I’d left, I was met by two icy glares.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ainsley said, standing up and gesturing toward me. “This is my husband, Peter. Peter, this is Illiana De Luca.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said, extending a hand. She stared at it oddly but made no move to return the gesture.

  “Honey, could you give us a few minutes? Maybe go work outside so we can talk?” Ainsley nodded encouragingly at me, making me feel like a child being sent outside to play.

  I turned back around, though I was hardly prepared to work outside, still dressed in my work clothes. I walked out into the yard, refusing to look in the direction of the porch or the secret hidden beneath it.

  I needed to get inside. I needed to be sure she was protecting me, but how? She’d all but locked me out of the house. I made my way around toward the back of the house as a new idea struck me. I pulled open the back screen door, wincing as its hinges let out a loud squeak. I was hopeful that it was far enough away from the living room that they wouldn’t hear it, but I paused, listening for approaching footsteps anyway. I waited, half expecting my wife to appear and tell me to buzz off. When she didn’t, I opened the door fully, sliding inside and shutting it behind me. I moved across the laundry room with silent footsteps.

  Once in the hall, I could hear their hushed voices. I moved closer and closer toward them until, halfway down the hall, I could make out what they were saying.

  “In the end, I couldn’t go through with it,” Ainsley said. “I love my husband very much. It was a mistake, and I told Stefan that much. He was kind to me that night. He said he understood. I’m seeing now that he understood my struggle more than I realized at the time, being married and all.” I pressed myself against the wall, listening.

  “He contacted me a few times after that, checking in to see how I was. I appreciated him. But then, the messages seemed almost obsessive.” I heard her shudder and knew it was an act. But she was convincing to anyone who didn’t know her as well as I did. “I stopped responding to him. I had no idea he was a police officer, but he’d started to scare me. I have no experience with online dating, so I was worried about what I’d gotten myself into.”

  “Stefan has a bit of an obsessive personality,” Illiana admitted. “But he’s harmless.”

  “I did lie to you before, though. Stefan did come to my house that night. It was out of the blue, and he seemed like he’d been drinking…” She paused, I assumed waiting to see if Illiana would say anything, but when she didn’t, Ainsley continued, “I didn’t let him in. After a few minutes of knocking, he left. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “But why did you lie when I asked you?”

  “I’m sorry about that. I think more than anything, I was worried. I’m worried for Stefan, worried about my husband discovering my infidelity. But I wanted to tell you the truth, and if it helps you find him, then it’s worth it to me.”

  “What time do you think he was here?” Illiana asked, all business.

  “It was around seven thirty, maybe. I can’t remember for sure.”

  “And your husband, what did he think was happening? Did he see him?”

  “Thankfully, my husband was working late that evening. He came home shortly after Stefan left, but they missed each other. He doesn’t know anything about him… I’d appreciate it if we could keep it that way.”

  I closed my hands into fists, feeling immense appreciation for my wife at that moment. If we made it through this, I was going to be better. I was going to be who she deserved. I swore it right then and there.

  “I understand, but…I need you to come down to the police station with me. You can tell your husband whatever you’d like, but you have to tell the detectives what you’ve told me.”

  “I can’t,” Ainsley argued. “Peter would ask too many questions. Besides, like I told you, I don’t know anything. If Stefan tries to contact me, I will let you know. You can leave your number with me, and—”

  “No. No, that’s not enough. For all we know, you were the last person to see my husband before he disappeared. Perhaps the last person to see him alive.” Her words hung heavy in the air, and I heard Ainsley take a deep breath.

  “He isn’t dead,” Ainsley said softly. “You shouldn’t talk like that. He can’t be dead.”

  “What other explanation is there? My husband loved his job, we had a happy marriage, I let him see other women when he wanted to. He was finishing up a few projects around the house. Last week, he’d booked us a vacation for next spring. He wasn’t planning to leave me, Mrs. Greenburg. I know that much. Which means something bad has happened to him. You have to tell the police what you know.”

  I heard the fabric of the couch shift as someone stood. Then, Ainsley said, “I can’t, I told you. I had nothing to do with any of this.”

  “That’s fine. I believe you, but you need to tell your story to the police. It could help.”

  “I’m not going with you. I’m sorry your husband is missing, but I have a family to take care of. I can’t go running off to help you solve the mystery—”

  “You can, and you will.” My wife had met her match. I listened with a racing heart as the women bickered back and forth. “You have a responsibility to—”

  “To what? To tell the police that I don’t know anything about what happened to him? Surely you can manage that.”

  “How can you say that? How can you be so heartless? Surely you care that he’s missing…that he’s probably dead.”

  “You seem awfully certain of that for someone who’s claiming to be innocent.”

  I heard the sharp inhale of the woman who wasn’t my wife. “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. How do I know you didn’t do anything to him? Hm? For all I know, you were jealous of his affairs and decided to put an end to it, and now you’re looking for someone to pin it all on. Maybe you don’t want him found at all.”

  “How can you say that?” she asked, choking back tears. “I love my husband more than life. I’ve put up with everything because he means the world to me. I could never…would never…I didn’t—”

  A sharp, shrill ringing interrupted her and, for a moment, the room was still.

  “Hello?”

  Silence. I felt cool sweat gathering at my temples. “You what?” I took a step closer to the living room, stepping on a creaky spot on the floor. I froze, taking a half-step back as I tried to come up with my excuse. I needed to go to the bathroom. I needed a drink of water. I was coming to change clothes. “Are you sure?” Her voice interrupted my thoughts. “Yes. Okay. Sure, I’ll be right down.
Okay, thank you… Bye.” The last word was whispered, breathless.

  “What is it? Are you okay?” Ainsley asked, genuine concern in her voice as pure panic swelled in my stomach.

  After a moment, Illiana said the words that shook me to my core, “No. I-I, um…I have to go. They…the police, they found his truck. They found Stefan’s truck.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  AINSLEY

  After Illiana left, I turned toward the doorway that led into the hall, where I knew Peter would be waiting. When he stepped out into the living room, it was of absolutely no shock to me. His face was ashen, his expression filled with panic.

  “They found the truck?”

  I nodded. “Don’t panic. We knew this would happen.”

  “But already?” he asked. “And why is she here? Why would you bring her back to the house?”

  “I needed to think, Peter. She freaked me out. I was caught off guard. I needed to collect myself, and this was the first thing I thought of. I thought bringing her here would help her see that we’re a normal, non-murdering family.”

  “Except that we’re not, Ains. And you brought her here, told her Stefan was here that night. What do you think is going to happen once she gets the police involved? If they get a warrant to search the property—”

  “That isn’t going to happen,” she said, holding a hand up to stop my rambling. “We’re fine, Peter. Everything’s fine. They don’t have a body. They don’t have any true reason to suspect us.”

  “What if they find your DNA in his car?”

  “They won’t,” I said, his worried expression haunting. “I wore my hair up, with my hood over it. I wore gloves, a face mask. There should be no DNA there. And, even if there is, I didn’t lie about going on a date with him. I can say we were in his car for a while.”

  “Were you?” he demanded.

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s hardly the concern right now, don’t you think?”

  “We can’t let her tell them about you. About us. The last thing we need is for the police to be snooping around while we’re still trying to get our story in order.”

  “What would you have me do, Peter? Kill her?”

  He flinched at my words. “No. Of course not.”

  “Listen to me,” I said calmly. “We have our story straight. He came over because I’d been ignoring him. I have the messages to prove that. I didn’t answer the door. I called you to come home, but he’d left before you got here. That’s all we know. We haven’t heard from him since.”

  “That story gives me all the motive in the world.”

  “It doesn’t. Not when the cheating was mutually agreed upon. You were seeing other people, too.”

  “I don’t want that to come out. I don’t want the police to know about it.”

  “Which is why I told Illiana I was cheating on you, but if it comes down to it, we’ll tell them the truth.”

  “Aren’t you the one who said we need to keep our story straight?”

  “With the police, yes. But our marital issues aren’t Illiana’s concern, and that’s what I’ll tell the cops.”

  “I don’t want this to get out,” he said. “What will the kids think?”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that, too,” I agreed. “But right now, we have to wait and see what’s going to happen.”

  “She’s not going to give up.”

  “There’s nothing for them to find,” I said assertively. “We have to remain calm.” I drew out the last two words. “That means you.”

  “I am calm,” he said, though we both knew he was lying. “I think we need to move him.”

  “We can’t do that,” I snapped. “It’s too risky.”

  “More risky than leaving him buried under our porch?” he asked, his cheeks growing splotchy with scarlet as his anger took over.

  I stood my ground, my arms folded across my chest. “More risky than unburying him and trying to move him without getting caught.”

  He groaned. “I disagree. Having him here is the biggest risk, Ains. We have to be smart about this.

  “I agree. And moving him would not be smart.”

  “I think it would,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, won’t we?”

  “But do what you decide anyway…”

  I didn’t nod, but I didn’t need to. We both knew it was how it would go. I was the only one who could think rationally in a moment of pressure.

  It was why Peter had always been so impulsive in heated situations. While, under normal circumstances, he was prone to thinking things through thoroughly, in moments of fear or anger, he’d been known to lose control of himself. He let his fear, his passion, his worry, and his desire make decisions before his brain could.

  He lived inside his head, where horrible outcomes were always right around the corner, and that quite often brought him to moments like this. Moments when he said or did the wrong thing and couldn’t manage to stop it. No, if anyone was going to handle this, it would be me.

  “I could go out there and do it anyway.”

  I scoffed, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Be my guest, Peter. That sounds like the smartest possible thing right now when we’re sure our friend, Illiana, could be back any moment with the police. But sure, you go right ahead and get to digging.”

  Panic and anger swelled in me, each fighting to supersede the other. My vision began to tunnel at the thought of police pulling into the driveway. Police asking me to replay my version of events for them. Handcuffs on his wrists. The slam of prison bars.

  “I need some air,” he said, bringing me back to him.

  “Where are you going?” I demanded, but he was past me before the sentence ended. He grabbed his coat from the rack by the door and stormed out of the house. I watched as he went but made no move to stop him. I needed space as much as he did.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  PETER

  I needed to stop thinking for a second. The decision I made next wasn’t smart, but I wasn’t entirely coherent. My usually clear thoughts were a foggy mess of worry, anger, rage, fear, exhaustion, and confusion. I needed clarity, and I tried to think of the last time I had true clarity.

  That was how I found myself on Mallory’s doorstep that evening, praying she was at home. I half expected her to ignore me when she came to the door, or worse yet, not remember me, but I had to try, and I couldn’t chance reaching out to her on the app anymore.

  I rapped my knuckles on the wood of the door, trembling with a mixture of excitement and nerves. I had no business being there. I wasn’t oblivious to that fact. I just needed to feel something that wasn’t worry for a few minutes, and being around Ainsley only made me feel more worried. More anxious. More—

  “Gina?”

  Gina stood in front of me wearing a black sports bra and yoga pants. Her hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head, with sweat collecting around the edges of her temples. She furrowed her brow, looking at the Apple Watch on her wrist and back at me. I stepped off the stoop, looking at the house number and back at my car.

  “What are you doing here?” we asked at the same time.

  “I’m sorry, what are you doing here?” I repeated.

  “I live here. What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Before I could piece together what was happening, Mallory descended the stairs and appeared behind her, wearing lounge pants and a floral tank top. As soon as she saw me, a bright smile lit up her face.

  “Hey you,” she called. “What are you doing here?”

  Gina spun around, staring at Mallory and jutting her thumb in my direction. “You know him?”

  “Of course, I know him. Why else would he be here? Let him in, would you?” Mallory’s smile faded. “Wait a second, you know him?”

  “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” I asked, coming across angrier than I’d meant to. At that point, it felt like the universe was playing one gian
t prank on me.

  “Pete’s my date,” Mallory said. “From the other night.”

  Gina looked back at me, her brows raised. “Oh, he is, is he?”

  “How do you know him?” Mallory was looking at me as she asked.

  “We work together,” she explained, crossing her arms. I recognized that look. It was the one I’d seen her give in meetings when things weren’t going our way. It was hard to piss Gina off, but once you had, things got ugly fast.

  “Mallory and I just met,” I told her, trying to decide which one I needed to justify knowing.

  “You were the one she had sneaking out of here the other night,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  “I had no idea you lived here. If I had, I would’ve never…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

  “You don’t owe me an explanation,” she snipped.

  “Okay, now I think I’m the one who needs someone to explain to me what’s going on…” Mallory said. “What am I missing?”

  “Nothing’s going on,” Gina said, shaking her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Absolutely nothing.” She backed away before I could say anything—not that I was sure what I should say—and disappeared down the hall.

  Mallory watched her go with wide eyes then looked back at me. “Sorry, did you two have a thing or something? She seems pissed.”

  “Not exactly.” I sighed. “I’m-I’m sorry. I should go talk to her.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I walked past her, knocking on the door I’d watched Gina disappear into. She opened it immediately, standing before me with a grim expression. “You don’t have to explain, Peter. Truly, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “But I want to, okay?” I said. “I care about you. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  “I just…I can’t. I don’t have time for this. I didn’t want messy or complicated. That was the whole point. That’s what we talked about.”