I held up my phone with Kerry Tanner’s picture on it. “For Matthew,” I said, hoping she’d take pity on me. “I think he’s the circle.”
She peered through the glass at the photo, and then I saw it click. She reached forward to unlock the door. “Come in, come in,” she said, waving me inside and locking the door behind me. “Let me see if I can grab Matthew. I think he’s in back.”
A moment later Matthew emerged, a skateboard under his arm, headphones already on.
“Is this the man you made the card out for?” I asked, holding out my phone.
Matthew smiled. “Nailed it.” He held up a hand until I gave him a high five. “See, this guy’s a perfect circle. And lilacs. I remembernow. That’s what he bought. He said all the ones his wife planted in her backyard had died.”
I walked away from the florist up St. Johns, then turned right on Plaza Street, headed past the gracious doorman buildings and, finally, onto Prospect Park West. I walked to the top of Montgomery Place and stopped at a bench along the stone wall surrounding the park. Maybe even the bench that Sam had passed out on. The early evening summer sun was thin and gold as I sat down.
I was not looking forward to the last call I had to make. I found Sarah’s number in my phone log and dialed her back. She answered after a few rings.
“Hi, Sarah,” I began, my voice sounding strangled and foreign. “This is Lizzie Kitsakis, Zach Grayson’s lawyer.”
“Yes?” she asked. “What can I do for you?”
Was there a tone to her voice now? Trepidation? Maude might have already asked Sarah about what Gloria had told her: that Kerry had been fired months ago. But Maude didn’t knowwhyhe’d been fired. Honestly, I didn’t think Sarah did either. She didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to keep on sleeping with her husband knowing all that. And I did not believe for one second that she had connected Kerry to Amanda’s death. If she had, I couldn’t imagine she would have been able to pick up the phone.
“I think maybe you were right,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “Right about what?”
“About us being connected from the neighborhood,” I said. “I think our husbands might play basketball together. In that rec league. Thursday nights?”
I’d remembered Sam had said he’d been at Freddy’s with a guy with a big job and a wife and kids. Maybe a lawyer who decided not to mention he’d been fired. And Sarah had said her husband had regular plans on Thursday nights, “trying to break a hip.” Just like Sam.
“Oh,” she said, with the quietest little gasp of relief. Only this Iwas calling about? Who cared about this? “Sure, he plays basketball. Hard to believe he’s found the time, given what I recently discovered is his voracious appetite for pornography,” she spat out. She was pissed, no doubt. Not shattered, though, not in the way she would be if she knew the rest. “But yes, he does also play basketball. I even went to watch once. Maybe I saw your husband. Let me guess: he’s one of the young, hot ones, right?”
She was angry, but there was a grim humor underneath—like she might forgive her husband even a porn addiction. Like she loved him still. I felt gutted, thinking of how destroyed Sarah would feel once she learned the whole ugly truth about the man she’d built a life with. After all, the mere possibility had all but consumed what was left of my shredded heart.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess maybe my husband—”
“You should go watch sometime yourself. It’s fun.” Sarah’s voice was brittle now, broken. “If you do, be sure to be on the lookout for my husband. He’s the asshole in the dumb red shoes.”
Lizzie
JULY 15, WEDNESDAY
When Zach came into the small attorney interview room, he looked so goddamn pleased with himself. I clenched my fists and tried to stay calm.
“I told you. I didn’t do it,” he singsonged. No twitchy eye contact. No bouncing leg. He was only the new and improved Zach from those staged photos now.
“You already heard?”
“A guy here was at a court date, and there was talk about somebody else being arrested for Amanda’s murder. A ‘fancy corporate lawyer,’” he went on, with a smile. “I may not have paid attention after that first year of law school, but even I know they can’t charge two people with the same murder. So I’m out, right?”
Maude had gone to the prosecutor’s office herself soon after I left her house, which I agreed would be much better than me delivering the news. Being associated with me would not curry her any favor with Wendy Wallace. I did ask Maude to emphasize that she was sure the figure she’d seen hadn’t been Zach.
I waited until the next day to call Wendy Wallace myself. She’d been far from happy to hear about Kerry Tanner when we finally spoke, but to her credit—and likely at Paul’s cajoling—she did hear me out, and she did seem to be listening. After all, at least she now had a new suspect in hand, and a case still high-profile enough to land her in the Brooklyn District Attorney’s Office.
As of that morning, as I headed to Rikers, Kerry was in custody.
“They’re processing your release as we speak,” I said to Zach. “You should be out soon.”
Zach closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. He’d been more worried than his cocky grin let on.
“That’s great news. Great news,” he said. “Thank you.”
