I notice that her pale cheeks are now slightly flushed.
“I wanted to show some kindness—because I can tell how difficult it is for you to be back in the area. And because of Melanie. I cared about her, and to be honest, her death was quite shattering for me.”
Not so shattering that she wanted to help the police find the murderer. Right now, I can’t stand the sight of Alison Handler.
“I see I’ve upset you,” she adds. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
I start for the door, leaving her behind me, and then spin back around just as I’m about to reach for the handle.
“Does the nameRiley Reynoldsmean anything to you?” I ask.
Alison gazes back at me with a baffled expression.
“Reynolds?” she says and shakes her head. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
I have no idea whether she’s being truthful or not. I tug the door open and slam it hard behind me.
I end up at the little diner I’ve stopped at before, having come on foot from the studio. I need to call Logan and loop him into every crazy thing I’ve learned this morning, but first I have to think through Alison’s revelation and decide what it might mean.
She said Handler wasn’t jealous, but there were other things at stake for him. If the college found out that his wife had taken one of his students as her lover, it would have been a real embarrassment for him. I doubt either Alison’s fling or the couple’s open marriage would have violated the moral turpitude clause of Handler’s tenure contract, but the indiscretion might have impacted him in other, smaller ways that added up over time.
According to Alison, she assured her husband she was going to break things off with Melanie, but he had no guarantee she’d keep her word—or that Mel would stay quiet.
And there’s something else, something that’s making my pulse race: If the other person Riley told about her experiencewasHandler, he might have known all the details—the blow to the head, the dog leash, everything.
Wait, is this really where I’m going? Seriously wondering now whether Handler killed Mel? It seems like a stretch to think he did it to derail gossip about his wife and a student—unless there’s part of the story I’m missing.
I take a sip of the iced tea I’ve ordered along with a plate of chicken salad and try not to get ahead of myself. Surely I’ll know more once I’ve spoken to Riley, so it’s pointless to speculate until I get there.
I wish I could call Bas right now and talk this through with him. But I’d feel like a fraud—which will be the case until I figure out what I’m going to do about my infidelity.
I force myself to finish my food, not wanting to skip another meal. The revelation from Alison has added to how crumpled I feel. I meant what I said to Alison about Mel being her own person and me not caring if she was gay or bi or simply experimenting. But it’s shown once again how in the dark I was about my daughter. The list of things I never knew refuses to stop growing, even this many years after her death.
Plus—as if I needed to add to my angst—I pretty much have proof now that Mel’s haiku about birches, the sliver of joy I held on to for so long, was not about the two of us. There was never a longing on her part to reconnect with me.
I need to pay the bill and get moving. As my eyes search the room for the waiter, they’re snagged by a familiar face.Jack.He’s standing at the front counter, accepting food in a white plastic bag. So, he’s still in town. Though the smile he flashes at the cashier is perfectly charming, it sends a shiver through me.
As I watch him leave and vanish down the street, I catch sight of Craig’s white cab idling on the curb outside. I’d called him on my hurried walk from the studio, switching my pickup address to the diner. It’s finally time to meet with Riley.
“So, you’re takin’ quite the tour of the area,” Craig says as soon as I slide into the car.
“Yeah, sort of,” I say. I’m tempted to add “a tour of theunderworld” but instead sink back into the seat. The ride, I’ve determined, will take about forty minutes.
As soon as we depart, I see I’ve missed two texts from Logan wondering what’s going on, so I type out a reply.
Can’t speak right now—in a taxi. But I’ve pretty much confirmed Riley was not attacked the night she said she was. Will know more soon. Please stand by and don’t say anything to Halligan yet.
It’s only seconds before I hear back from him.
What? You cant call me? I need to know what’s happening
There’s no way I can discuss any of this in front of Craig.
I promise to call as soon as I can.
Right on schedule, we pull into the tiny town of Edgerton and soon after turn onto Bonner, a fairly rural road. There’s a mix of houses along it, some a bit ramshackle, and others newer and suburban in feel, but they’re all set fairly far apart, with plenty of trees growing between them. So, this is what Hilary meant when she said she wanted to give country life a try.
