Vero slumped back in her seat, thoughtful as she scraped the last of her ice cream from her cup. “Let’s assume you’re right and Penny’s framing Steven for Gilford’s murder—why? Who is she protecting?”
“Maybe she’s protecting herself.”
“You think Penny murdered her own husband?”
“Why else would she go to so much trouble to point the finger at someone else?”
Vero dumped her empty cup in the bag. “Maybe you should talk to Nick about this.”
“And say what? I kidnapped two college students and broke into a woman’s house? I can’t go to Nick with this. Not until we have actual proof that Penny lied about Steven.” All the evidence we had managed to gather so far was hearsay or circumstantial. Between Max’s uncertain hunch that the anonymous caller had been Penny, a wig stand, some press-on nails, and a photo in a magazine, all we could conclude was that Penny was up to something. And we couldn’t even prove that much.
“What now?” Vero asked.
I checked my phone. No missed calls. No texts. Nick and I hadn’t talked since I’d left him standing in front of Penny’s house yesterday. I hated that his silence since had felt worse than fighting. At least when we argued, I knew where we stood.
I climbed into the front seat and started the engine. “Let’s go to my parents’ house and pick up the kids. We’ll take them home and get them ready for bed. Once they’re down for the night, there’s something I need to do.”
CHAPTER 9
Vero and I bathed the children and put them to bed. Then I changed into a pair of jeans that didn’t smell like cat litter before driving to Nick’s apartment. He had given me his address right after we’d returned from Atlantic City, but between the hours he’d been keeping at work and the nights he’d spent at my house, this was my first time actually seeing the place.
I parked my van beside his car. A lamp glowed in a window of his ground-level unit. It was nearly ten o’clock on a Sunday night. Too early for him to be sleeping, but too late to call and ask permission to come over.
I got out of the van and walked to his apartment before I could talk myself out of it. The door opened as I raised my hand to knock.
Nick stood in the doorway, wearing a loose-fitting tank top over a pair of faded sweatpants. I wondered if he’d been preparing for bed.
“Hey,” he said, studying my face.
“Hey,” I said, feeling foolish for coming. I wasn’t entirely surewhy I was there. Only that I hadn’t wanted to leave things the way we had the day before. “Can I come in?”
He stood aside, making room for me to pass, our shoulders brushing as I entered the narrow hallway into his apartment. The galley kitchen to my right was dark, the dishwasher humming quietly. The pass-through above the sink overlooked a cozy lamplit living room, the one I’d seen glowing from the parking lot outside.
The apartment was smaller than I had expected it to be. A glance down the hall revealed a door to a single bedroom. In my daydreams of his home, Nick had taken up more space, or maybe it was only that he had been taking up so much room in my mind in the short time since I’d met him that I had expected his home to be larger. He’d texted me his address late one night, after he’d been out drinking at Hooligans with my sister and his entourage of cop friends, with an open invitation to come over anytime. When I saw the missed text the next morning, I recognized it for the drunken, hopeful booty call it had been, but I had given in to curiosity anyway and googled his address. I’d been surprised by the pictures of the aged, run-down apartment complex, unable to reconcile why a successful detective in his mid-thirties hadn’t chosen to buy a home in a nicer neighborhood. It hit me in that moment how little we actually knew about each other. How many questions I had about him. How much more I wanted to know. And how much he might still want to know about me.
A file folder sat open on the leather sofa, the reports inside spilling out alongside a yellow legal pad and an uncapped pen. He beat me to the living room, shutting his open laptop and scooping up the papers and handwritten notes. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you,” he said as he set them on the coffee table, as if it was his fault and notmine that I had come unannounced. “Can I get you something to drink?”
A half-empty bottle of an imported lager sat on a coaster on the table. “A beer would be great.” I slipped off my coat and hung it over the back of a chair.
Nick disappeared to the kitchen. He hadn’t made an effort to hide the file from me, so I tipped my head to read the notes on his pad, surprised to see the names Dupree and Haggerty scrawled among them. The fridge opened and closed, then a whisper of air escaped the bottle as he twisted off the cap. He came back into the room, his expression still wary as he handed me the drink and gestured for me to sit down.
I cleared my throat and stared into my beer. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” I said as he sat down beside me. “Thanks for not giving me a ticket.”
“A ticket,” he repeated.
“I was reckless. I should have slowed down. And I’m sorry I sped through that yellow light, but in my defense, you probably shouldn’t have followed me through it.”
He stared at me, dumbfounded. “That’s what you’re apologizing for? You think I was upset about your driving?”
“You had every right to be,” I admitted. “I could have hurt someone. Any other cop probably would have arrested me.”
He set his beer on the coffee table a little too hard. “You’re right, they would. And I most definitely should have. But I wasn’t thinking about anyone else. I was thinking aboutyou!” He pinched the bridge of his nose and lowered his voice. “I was worried because you were upset. Because you were angry and hurt and you weren’t thinking clearly.”
“And you didn’t want me to do something stupid,” I sassed.
“I didn’t want you to be alone! I wanted to be there for you, Finn, but you didn’t give me the chance!”
“What do you want me to say?” I cried. “I’m sorry I ran out on you back at Penny’s! I’m sorry if that made you feel left out! I just needed…” I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know what I needed, Nick! You’re right. I was angry and upset and I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
