Chương 10
“That’s strangely specific.”
“The sofa was too short.”
“Did you resent him?”
“I resented his feet.”
Despite herself, Lena laughed.
Dominic looked down at the table.
“He learned quickly. Faster than I did. My father trusted him because he was grateful. Grateful boys work harder than sons.”
“And later?”
“Later he stopped being grateful.”
“You kept trusting him.”
“I kept needing him.”
The distinction sounded practiced and painful.
“Did he encourage you to believe your wife was killed?”
“Yes.”
“Was she?”
“I don’t know.”
“After three years?”
“I found inconsistencies. Maintenance records that were altered. A mechanic who left the state. Payments through North Meridian.”
Lena stared at him.
“You think Vincent might have been involved.”
“I think he benefited from what I became afterward.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
“Do you ever get tired of living in the space between what you know and what you can prove?”
“Every day.”
Lena looked through the cafeteria windows. Evening traffic moved along the expressway, red lights gathering and breaking apart.
“Maribel needed the money,” she said.
“That doesn’t excuse her.”
“No.”
“But you understand.”
“I understand why people make the first bad decision. The second one is usually where they lose me.”
Dominic rested his forearms on the table.
“Why did you leave the day-care job?”
“I told you.”
“You could have stayed quiet.”
“I tried for two months.”
He waited.
Lena folded the corner of a paper napkin.
“The first woman who complained was nineteen,” she said. “The owner reduced her hours until she quit. I had rent. I had a brother who called every time he needed money and disappeared every time I needed help. I told myself I was watching out for the children, that staying gave me a reason. Then he cornered another employee in the supply room. She was crying in the parking lot afterward, and I asked whether she wanted me to call the police. She said no. I complained anyway. She denied it when the owner questioned her.”
“You were fired.”
“On paper, I was late too often.”
“Were you?”
“Sometimes.”
Dominic’s mouth moved as if he almost smiled.
“What happened to the girl?”
“She moved to Arizona. We exchange birthday texts we both forget until three days late.”
“And the owner’s husband?”
“Still there.”
Dominic picked up the napkin Lena had been folding and flattened it.
“Nothing is a choice people make,” he said.
“You said that before.”
“I was repeating you.”
“No. You were repeating yourself.”
He looked at the flattened napkin.
“I may have chosen nothing for too long.”
Lily came home the next day.
Home was a stone mansion near Lincoln Park with iron gates, discreet cameras, and more people pretending not to be security than Lena had ever seen in one place. The entrance hall held a staircase wider than Lena’s apartment.
She had agreed to visit for one hour.
Lily refused to release her hand for the first forty minutes.
They sat in a sunroom overlooking a rain-dark garden. Lily wore soft gray pajamas and held the teddy bear, which police had returned after removing the valet ticket. A seam near one paw had been opened and resewn.
“They hurt him,” Lily said.
“He looks tough.”
“He has one arm lower.”
“So do I before coffee.”
Lily examined her seriously. “You’re funny when you don’t try.”
“Most people say the opposite.”
Dominic sat across the room speaking quietly with Daniel. Vincent was absent. Elena Price moved in and out with documents. The household operated around Lily’s recovery with careful normality. A cook brought soup no one ate. A housekeeper replaced flowers that were still fresh. A security man in the garden looked at the same hedge six times.
Lily leaned toward Lena.
“Are you Daddy’s friend?”
“No.”
“Is he yours?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“We disagree.”
“About what?”
“Almost everything.”
Lily considered this. “That’s what he does with Uncle Vin.”
Lena glanced toward Dominic.
“Do you like Uncle Vin?”
Lily pulled the teddy bear closer.
“He gives good presents.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Lily looked at the garden. “Mom didn’t like him.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said he made Daddy smaller.”
The words were not phrased like a child’s invention. Lena suspected Lily had repeated them exactly.
“Did your mom say that to you?”
“She said it to Aunt Celia. I was under the table.”
“Why were you under the table?”
“I had cookies.”
“That is the strongest reason anyone has given me this week.”
Lily smiled briefly.
“What does smaller mean?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Daddy is big.”
“People can feel small without changing size.”
“Does Uncle Vin make you small?”
Lena looked at the man across the room. Dominic had ended his conversation. He was watching them.
“No,” Lena said. “He makes me irritated.”
Lily appeared satisfied.
Later, Dominic walked Lena to the front entrance.
“I need someone to remain with her during the day,” he said.
“She has a house full of employees.”
“She wants you.”
“That isn’t healthy.”
“Dr. Shaw says familiar contact can help.”
“Dr. Shaw said I should become her employee?”
“No.”
“Then what are you offering?”
“Temporary work. Compensated properly.”
Lena looked at him.
“I’m not a nanny.”
“You worked in child care.”
“I got fired from child care.”
“You were fired from waitressing too.”
“Not technically.”
He held out an envelope.
She did not take it.
“What’s that?”
“A contract. Two weeks. Daytime only. No residential requirement. You can leave whenever you wish.”
“Confidentiality clause?”
“Elena wanted one. I removed it.”
“Security restrictions?”
“You tell us before taking Lily anywhere.”
“I’m not taking her anywhere.”
“Then that section should be easy.”
“How much?”
He told her.
It was more than she earned in two months at the restaurant.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That is what it costs to ask you to enter a dangerous house.”
The bluntness stopped her.
“Am I in danger here?”
May you like
“You’re in danger because you found her. Here, I can see more of it.”
She took the envelope.
