“Really?” Elodie says. “That’s great. Todd is being a miserable son of a beach because the twins are such a handful. I said: You think playing Roblox is a handful? Try pushing them out your vag like you’re a human water slide, and then come back and tell me about hard.”
I laugh, but she glances at me as she pulls into a parking space. She can smell gossip from a million miles away in a snowstorm. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Just—thinking about how we should handle this. You did all the talking last time. Maybe I should try. She doesn’t seem to like how friendly and open you are.”
“You mean she’s got a stick up her butt.”
“Exactly,” I say. “I can see how she’s related to Bertram. They’re both so serious about things.”
“I meant to ask how that’s going,” Elodie says. “You’ve spent more time with him. Anything stand out?”
“It’s a dead end,” I tell her, though I’m not entirely sure that’s true. “I think Skylar is a better lead.”
Elodie smirks. “You can tell me, you know.”
“Tell you what?”
“If you sleep with him.” She says it without her usual flair for the dramatic, which somehow makes it worse because I know she’s being sincere.
“I’m not going to sleep with him,” I say, not giving her any emotion to play off of.
“But have you ever? You know, for the good of the cause.”
“Nope. Look, we’re here.” I unbuckle my seat belt and reach for the door.
“Wait,” she says, her harried tone so uncharacteristic that I freeze with my hand on the lever. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate. Todd is always on me about that, you know?”
“It’s fine,” I say. I can sense another buddy-cop bonding moment, and I’m desperate to end it before it begins.Let it go, Elodie. Let me be surly and quiet and unapproachable in peace.
“No.” She locks the doors just as I pull the lever. “Please listen. I know what you meant earlier about not having enough to say to all of those other parents at the girls’ school. None of them knows about my…brief stint with law enforcement. Mr. X promised to purge it from anypublic records when I agreed to work with him. And it isn’t much—clearly, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have—but I wanted to say I admire your ability to stay so calm.”
The words surprise me. After years of hearing Waylen beg me to quit, I realize this is the first time someone is telling me I’m good at what I do.
“Thank you,” I say.
“But also,” she goes on, “I wanted to say that doing this work is lonely. You’re allowed to have a friend.”
I can tell by the bright, eager look in her eyes that she’s inviting me to partake in a brand-new mission, one much messier and more difficult than trying to catch a billionaire murderer. Navigating a friendship is something I haven’t done since I was a child. Being easy to like, showing up with a good casserole, and heading a riveting discussion on that month’s book club pick? Those things I can do. But a real friendship is too terrifying a thought to entertain.
So, I do what I’m best at: I give Elodie a friendly smile, and I nod. Later, I’ll bake her some cookies and recruit Collette to have a playdate with Finnegan. And I’ll hope that’s enough to satisfy whatever it is Elodie wants from me.
“I’d like that,” I say.
“Really?” Elodie is beaming.
“Of course. But we’re here, so let’s get to work.”
She scrambles to keep up with me as I stride to Erin’s front door, determined not to miss out on even one precious second. It helps, having something to do today. A clear task: Explain our next steps to Erin. Get her on board. Try to wring out a few more details that can help us.
And do not—absolutely do not—think about Waylen and what happened yesterday.
I knock assertively on Erin’s door, and I swear I’m only a little bit satisfied that Elodie is breathless when she finally catches up to me. She busies herself with straightening her hair, smoothing out the faux fur that trims her winter coat.
A few seconds pass and no one comes to the door.
“That’s odd,” Elodie murmurs to me. “Her car’s here.”
I knock again and ring the bell. It’s nine thirty. Still early, if you’re unemployed and don’t have any young children. Maybe she’s sleeping.
