“Because I called him the last time we blew up shit we weren’t supposed to blow up.”
“Why don’t we flip a coin? I call heads.”
“You always call heads. What if I wanted heads?”
The two of them disappeared into the trees, leaving yet another bout of chaos behind them.
CHAPTER 39
ALEXA
In the end, I called Priest, and Priest called Demelza, and Demelza called the cavalry. The cavalry—aka the state police—showed up and found Margaret Leland still shrieking by the winery. Roy had driven his buddy with the gun to the emergency room, where a medical team was busy removing an inch-wide piece of wood from his thigh. It had come dangerously close to piercing his femoral artery.
The two women were sitting in the living room with Ari, Jez, and Marcel. The blow-up bed turned out to have a puncture, so when we arrived, André had been snoring on the couch. He’d taken one look at our unexpected guests, said, “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know,” picked up his sleep mask and earplugs and aromatherapy pillow, and claimed Marcel’s bed for the night.
I’d set up a camera so I could watch the discussion from the comfort of the library and multitask at the same time. The contents of the Leland laptop had uploaded to the cloud, and I just had to hope it was Margaret’s. Jez hadn’t seen another. Roy accessed his email from an iPad, and he seemed to be something of a technophobe.
Nolan was slumped on the couch, halfway through his third glass of wine.
“My life is out of control,” he mumbled.
“Don’t think of it that way. Things are ninety-nine percent under control, but the balance of the universe is shifting a little, that’s all. The Lelands fucked around and found out. Marielle played a stupid game and won a one-way ticket to hell. Now you’re a competitor down, and we have André here, and André’s work is far superior to Marielle’s in every way.”
“The cottage will have to wait until the insurance claim goes through, and that’s assuming the insurance company doesn’t find a way to wriggle out of paying.”
“What are you talking about? I’ll just write him a cheque, and I get a discount anyway.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not? Okay, so my handwriting isn’t the tidiest, but the bank seems cool with it.”
“Because I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Last week, you were talking about marriage, and this week, I’m not allowed to spend my hard-earned money on improvements to our home?”
“But—”
“You can pay me in orgasms. That thing with your tongue turned out better than I thought it would.”
Nolan brightened slightly, although his eyes were unfocused thanks to him being borderline wasted.
“You’ll stay? Here? With me?”
“There’s too much wanderlust in me to stay in one place forever, and I’ve never found anywhere I wanted to put down roots. But you changed everything, and now I think…I think I could spend a bit of time here. Still take some trips, but come back in between.”
He got clumsily to his feet and wobbled over to kiss me on the forehead. “I’ll miss you every moment you’re not with me. I love you. I’ve always loved you, even when I shouldn’t have.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me.” On-screen, Jez and Ari settled onto a couch opposite the two women. “Shhh, the show’s about to start.”
“¿Hablas inglés?” Jez asked.
“Yes,” said the tallest of the pair. She’d stopped hyperventilating now, and she’d also drained the glass of water Marcel offered, although she hadn’t touched the plate of snacks. Neither of them had.
“Where are you from?”
She gave no answer other than wringing her hands in her lap.
“It’s okay, we’re not from ICE. We’re not going to arrest you.”
