I step through the doorway and notice Drew and Heather on the crimson red sofa, sitting a few feet apart. Almost instantly I sense another presence in the room, and turning to my right, I’m shocked to discover Liam and Tori in two matching armchairs, their expressions blank.
Not good, I think. But I quickly assure myself that it makes total sense Drew would include them in a discussion about Jamie’s death—they’re family, and they were both at the party. What Drew has no way of knowing, of course, is that Liam might have reason to have killed Jamie. I nod hello at Tori and Liam, which draws no response, and then return my attention to Drew and Heather.
“Thank you for inviting me today,” I say. “I’ve wanted the chance to tell you in person how sorry I am.”
“Why don’t you have a seat,” Heather says. Though there’s no warmth in her voice, I assume it’s because this must be as awkward for her as it is for me.
I perch on the edge of a small slipper chair, waiting for someone to open the conversation. Heather’s in one of her typical boho chic looks today, soft flowy pants and a loose top, both in sage green, butthere’s a stern look on her face now, undercutting the vibe of her outfit. Something feels off.
I flick my glance between Drew and Heather, wondering whether I should try to break the ice. “As I started to say a minute ago, I am heartsick for your loss. I know—”
“Let me get right to the point,” Drew says, cutting me off. “You left my nephew more or less at the altar, but that was between the two of you and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. But Icando something about what’s going on right now.”
My heart lurches. This is not going at all how I thought it would. But before I can defend myself, Drew suddenly shoots up from the couch, his eyes blazing.
“You have no right coming back to this area,” he says, nearly bellowing. “No right to wreak even more havoc on me and my family. I won’t stand for it, do you hear?”
23
BLOOD RACES UP MY TORSO, REDDENING MY CHEST, THEN MYneck and cheeks. Drew’s words not only sting sharply, but they’ve opened the reserve of shame I’ve stored up from upending Jamie’s life last March.
I need to get out of here.There’s a door leading from the family room to the backyard, and if I exit that way, I could be gone in fifteen seconds. But I can’t leave. I need to make them see the truth.
Drew is still standing but hasn’t taken any steps toward me, which is a relief. With difficulty, I breathe deeply, trying to regain some composure.
“I’m sorry that’s how you feel,” I tell him, standing, too, so I’m more in control. “But I’m not trying to wreak havoc on any of you. All I want is for the police to just consider an alternate theory about Jamie’s death.”
“Because you can’t bear theguilt?” Drew snarls and then rakes a hand through his faded blond hair. This time I feel tears fighting to free themselves from behind my eyes. I pinch the webbed piece of skin between my left thumb and forefinger, a trick I teach clients who fear they might bawl during a tough moment at work.
“No, because I know Jamie wouldn’t have adopted a dog and then taken his own life. Didn’t Sam talk to you?”
“Yes, but it was obvious he only called me because you put him upto it. And then you have the goddamned nerve to talk to my mother, upsetting her so much it took two caregivers to calm her down afterward.”
So despite what she promised, the attendant ratted me out. My whole face is on fire now.
“That was a mistake and I’m terribly sorry about it, truly,” I say. “I just wanted to speak to her about Jamie but hadn’t realized how fragile she is.”
Drew cocks his chin and locks a hand on each side of his waist. “And then you butt into Liam’s business, harassing his tenant. What’s your explanation forthat?”
This means that Drew is aware Liam’s a landlord. But surely he doesn’t know the whole story. Maybe my best option is to drag it out into the open right now, so that we all have the same information.
“Yes, I spoke to his tenant,” I say. “And Idohave an explanation, a good one.”
I turn and look straight at Liam this time. He’s most likely come from his job, dressed in a short-sleeved burgundy button-down, black jeans, and tan work boots. He’s staring hard at me, looking angry but wary at the same time. He must know I’m about to blow the lid off his secret empire.
I return my attention to Drew. “Before he died, Jamie discovered that Liam owns at leastnineproperties—I found a list of them that he put together. What’s more, Jamie visited the same one I did, asking questions. He was clearly suspicious about how Liam could afford them all.”
Now Liam shoots up from his seat, and as I turn to look at him, I can practically see the tension pulsing from his compact, muscular body.
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Kiki,” he barks, “but I’ll give youone anyway. Eight years ago, Tori and I used our savings for a down payment on an investment property. The house appreciated quickly, and I refinanced the mortgage based on the new value. Then I took out a loan against the equity to purchase the next house, and so on and so on. And, by the way, this is the same thing I told Jamie when he raised the matter with me.”
“When was this?” I ask, caught off guard by the revelation. He’s saying he gave Jamie an explanation, but I’m certainly not going to accept that at face value.
“We talked about it a few days before he died. I knew what he was implying and what you’re implying, too—that I stole from our grandmother. I ended up showing him her statements so that he could see that nothing had been withdrawn from her account beyond what she’s needed to live on.”
Wait, have I had it all wrong the past couple of days? Or is Liam lying now, covering his ass in front of his uncle?
“And Drew’s well aware of my investments,” he adds, as if reading my mind.
