“Whatever! You know that’s what I meant!”
I ran to the nearest nightstand and dragged it open, hoping if Gilford or Penny had any secrets, they’d be hidden where everyone else kept theirs. A chewed-up ballpoint pen rolled to the front of an empty drawer along with a tiny green capsule. “Mint Tic Tacs! He liked Mint Tic Tacs!” I said, grasping at straws. Vero repeated it as I ran to the closet. Both sides of it were filled with Penny’s clothes. The shelves on top were stacked with popular romance novels. I rifled around behind them, knocking a pile of them to the floor. I scooped up two Colleen Hoovers, a copy ofOutlander, and an Emily Henry rom-com and stuffed them back on the shelf beside a tower of shoeboxes. I yelped when the taped-up spine of a tattered Agatha Christie book fell and hit my toe. I pulled down the nearest shoebox and ripped off the lid. A heavy class ring rolled around inside it. I squinted at the inscriptions. “He played tennis at UVA,” I blurted as I searched another box.
Vero repeated me word for word and Penny scoffed. “Anyone could have found that on the internet.”
I ran to the bathroom and flipped on the light, shriekingwhen I came face-to-face with a foam head on the vanity. I clutched my chest, bracing against the sink as I waited for my pulse to slow.
“It’s just a wig stand,” I told myself. The stray hairs in the basin were short and chestnut colored, a far cry from the blond waves Penny had been wearing the day before.
I took a calming breath and began rummaging through Penny’s makeup drawer. A glossy real estate magazine had been stuffed inside. The magazine was folded open to a photo of a woman. I picked it up, the last of my anxiety giving way to unease as I recognized the face that was staring back at me.
It was Steven’s ex-fiancée.
Theresa Hall posed casually in the living room of one of her pricey real estate listings. Her hair fell in long blond waves over the shoulders of her cashmere sweater, and her French-manicured hands were draped casually over her knees. She wore a pair of formfitting designer jeans that still managed to look dressy, and like everything else about Theresa, her makeup was flawless.
My gaze slid back to the counter. An open box of false French nail tips rested beside a bottle of eyelash glue. I picked up a tube of shimmery pink lip gloss. It was the same shade Theresa was wearing in the magazine.
The shock I felt at seeing Penny in person earlier that day suddenly made sense.
“She was wearing a wig,” I whispered.
I ran back to her closet. The turtlenecks and generic-brand slacks hanging inside it were nothing like the designer jeans and loose-fitting sweater she’d been wearing when she’d greeted Nick and me at the door earlier that day. Except for Penny’s age, everything down to the shade of her lipstick had reminded me of Theresa,as if Penny’s entire appearance had been curated to make her affair with Steven more believable.
“A what?” Vero cleared her throat to get my attention.
“She’s wearing a blond wig!” I shouted.
Vero chuckled darkly. “I may not remember much about Gilford,” she said to Penny, “but I do know something about you. You’re not really a blonde!”
Penny gasped. “Neither are you!”
“What are you doing? That’s my hair!Ow!” Vero cried.
“I knew you were lying!” Penny shouted. “You’re not fooling anyone. I know exactly who you are. You’re one of those true-crime people. I already told your little friends, I’m not interested in being interviewed for your stupid podcast! Leave me alone. If I see you again, I’ll report you to the cops.”
I didn’t wait for Vero to tell me Penny was on her way home. I dropped the magazine in the drawer, sprinted down the stairs, and bolted out the back door.
An hour later, Vero and I sat in the back of my van in the Dairy Queen parking lot, drowning our feelings of failure in two extra-large Oreo Blizzards and a double order of chili fries. We had listened to the recording of Vero’s conversation with Penny three times and come to the painful conclusion that we had gleaned absolutely nothing useful from it.
“I don’t get it,” Vero said, propping her feet on the armrest in front of her between bites of her ice cream. “Why would Penny try to make herself look like Theresa?”
“Because Steven clearly has a type. His last two girlfriends both fit a very specific mold. Bree and Theresa were both very attractive,well-groomed blondes. They both wore their hair long, they liked designer clothes, and they both wore lots of makeup.”
“How’d he wind up with you?”
“Not helping.”
“I’m just saying, your argument doesn’t hold up. You don’t fit that description at all and hemarriedyou.”
“Maybe so, but he left me because he was planning to marry someone else. If Max’s hunch was right and Penny was the anonymous caller who told the police she was having an affair with Steven, then painting herself to look like a woman he’d be tempted to cheat with would make her bullshit story more believable.”
Vero’s feet dropped to the floor. She turned to me, dumbfounded. “You still don’t think he actually slept with her.”
“No, I don’t,” I said firmly.
Chocolate stuck in the corners of her open mouth as she threw a balled-up napkin at me. “After all the times that man has hurt you, why do you insist on coming to his rescue? You don’t have to believe in someone after they’ve lied to you, Finn. Why do you keep pretending he’s redeemable?”
“Because if I can’t find a reason to believe him, what hope do I have that Nick will do the same for me?” I threw my french fry back in the bag, my appetite lost. “I’ve lied to him, Vero. Over and over. How does that make me any better than Steven?”
