“Don’t be. You saved me my house and a lot of money. I don’t care anymore. I don’t have any tears left for him. I don’t know how to feel right now,” Cora says, but Paige knows how this goes—she’s just in shock. It hasn’t sunk in fully. She definitely cares.
“I even asked Char to have coffee. I thought we’d be friends,” Cora says, her voice hollow and even. Then she lets out a short, humorless laugh, takes a sip of her wine, and then goes back to the counter and brings over the bottle. She stares out the window to the blackness outside and doesn’t speak. Paige has to press on.
“The thing is, the more I followed him and dug into his life, the more I found—and not just this.”
Cora turns back to look at Paige, who is sitting across from her on an armchair.
“What? What else could there possibly be?”
“I’m sorry. Okay, I just—I didn’t tell you what I was doing because I wanted to know for sure. I owe it to Caleb to...”
“Oh, Jesus. Paige. No. Come on. I can’t possibly listen to this right now. I’m sorry. I’m not—I care, it’s just, we’ve been over everyone in the neighborhood, and if you are gonna tell me that now you are back to suspecting Finn, it’s probably not the best time. Please. I can’t really take any more today.”
“I know, but you have the right to know who he really is, and I have proof. And before I go to the police with it, I thought it was only fair to tell you,” Paige says, and Cora sighs and leans back in her chair with her wine.
“He told the police he’d only ever said hello to Caleb at the most, like when you two were over at our house for dinner or something. He said he’d have no reason talk to him or have his number. But Caleb’s number is in his phone records.”
“How in the hell do you have his phone records?”
“I stole his laptop, and I have his passwords,” Paige says, and Cora’s eyes expand and her mouth opens, but no words come out. “I’m sorry,” Paige continues, “but I had to know. I did want to help you, too, but I just had this nagging...hunch. And then something he said made all the pieces fall into place. I ran into him when I was following him, and we chatted, and I don’t remember what we were even talking about—it was at that bar—but he said ‘Daymmn’ like, instead of just sayingdamn, he said it in this very distinct way—a far-too-young-for-him, frat-boy sort of way... You know what I mean, right?”
“Yes, I do know,” she says, somewhat defensively, Paige thinks, but she’s listening, at least. They’ve both made fun of how annoying he is when he talks like that.
“So I remembered—like, that word hit me—a few days before Caleb died, he was arguing with someone outside. It wasn’t anything extreme, just raised voices. I thought it was with a friend. I remember hearing that ‘Daymmn’ so distinctly. It was a short disagreement, and when I looked outside, Caleb was already in his car going wherever, and I saw a guy walking away... He was wearing a UMass ball cap backward. And you’d say, so what? A ton of kids go to UMass, but this was a ’90s-style cap with the lacrosse sticks crossing the logo, and I still didn’t think anything of it then—like, it didn’t register until I saw him at the bar and he had it on—the same, old-school UMass cap backward. That was him arguing with Caleb.”
“I am not putting together whatever you’re trying to say,” Cora says, but Paige goes on.
“Why would they have reason to talk at all, let alone argue? Finn is a grown man. And twenty-two or not, Caleb is still the neighbors’ kid. He said they never talked, but Finn has called him, there’s records of it, and they argued. Why?” Paige says, becoming more agitated.
Cora seems calmer than Paige thought upon learning this. She puts her wineglass down and leans her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together.
“Look, I think maybe this can be explained,” Cora says.
“Please, explain it, then.” Paige crosses her arms and waits.
“Mia told me something earlier that I didn’t know, that Finn bought pot from Caleb. Maybe that’s why they talked. I mean, that has to be it. I don’t think it’s more sinister than that.”
“What? No. I don’t accept that. Caleb wouldn’t do that—he was on the dean’s list. He was... You know what, then why did Finn lie over something likepotwhen the police were talking to everyone? We’re talking about murder, and he’d lie and risk getting caught looking really suspicious over...pot?” Paige says, knowing Cora hates it when she saysmurderbecause the police have ruled it an accident.
“I’m sure he didn’t think he’d be investigated for anyone to unpack it any further, so he probably just covered his ass without thinking,” Cora says.
“Why are you defending him? After what I just showed you, it’s hard to understand how you’re not at least entertaining that he might be someone with secrets,” she says.
“Okay,” Cora says. “Is that all there is?”
“No,” Paige says.
“So, what, then?”
“Well,” Paige continues, “it’s funny how Finn is in cyber security and knows a thing or two about surveillance, and the cameras at the entrance to the community weren’t working.”
“They weren’t working for weeks. The HOA sent a notice,” Cora says, but Paige goes on.
“He got his car fixed the day after the hit-and-run. I stole his files. There’s an invoice,” Paige says, handing Cora a copy. “Front-bumper damage,” she points out. Again, Cora doesn’t look shocked the way Paige expected.
“Paige. God, I can see how you think—No, Mia hit a pole in the Trader Joe’s parking lot that weekend. That’s all this was. I think you’re—”
“Yeah, I remember you telling me that. But is she telling the truth?”
