A Flicker in the Dark(66)

His briefcase is full of that shit.

I think back to Lacey’s autopsy, to the coroner poking at her rigid limbs.

We found heavy traces of Diazepam in her hair.

Daniel would have the drugs. Daniel would have the opportunity. He disappears for days on end, alone. I think back to all the times he has taken off on a business trip I didn’t know about or remember, and instead of questioning him, I had blamed myself for forgetting. I went to Detective Thomas yesterday with a tip about Bert Rhodes based on far less than this. It was a theory formed out of circumstance and suspicion and a hint of hysteria, if I’m being honest with myself. But this … this isn’t suspicion. This isn’t hysteria. This seems like proof. Solid, concrete proof that my fiancé is somehow involved in something he shouldn’t be. Something terrible.

I stand up, sliding the closet door shut and sitting on the edge of my bed. I hear the clatter of a skillet being lowered into the sink, the hiss of steam as the faucet sprays water onto the hot surface. I need to know what’s going on. If not for myself, then for those girls. For Aubrey. For Lacey. For Lena. If I can’t find the necklace, I need to find something. Something that will lead me to answers.

I walk down the stairs again, ready to face Daniel. I turn the corner to find him standing in the kitchen, placing two plates of pancakes and bacon on our small breakfast-nook table. There are two mugs of coffee steaming on the kitchen island, a pitcher of orange juice with sweat dripping down the sides.

It was just one week ago when I thought that this was karma. The perfect fiancé in exchange for the worst possible father. Now I’m not so sure.

“Good morning,” I say, standing in the doorway. He looks up and flashes a smile. It seems genuine.

“Good morning,” he says, grabbing a mug. He walks over and hands it to me, kissing the top of my head. “Interesting night last night, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I say, scratching at the spot his lips just left. “I think I was kind of in shock, you know. Waking up to the alarm like that and not knowing it was you downstairs.”

“I know, I feel horrible,” he says, leaning against the island. “I must have scared you to death.”

“Yeah,” I say. “A little bit.”

“At least we know the alarm works.”

I try to crack a smile. “Yeah.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve struggled to find the words to say to Daniel, but usually it’s because nothing ever seems good enough to say. Nothing ever seems to convey how deep my feelings are, how absolutely I had fallen for him in such a short amount of time. But now, the reasons are so vastly different, it’s hard to wrap my mind around. It’s hard to believe that this is actually happening. For a split second, my eyes glance over at my purse on the counter, at the bottle of Xanax I know is tucked inside. I think about the pill I took before chasing it with two glasses of wine, the way I had sunken into the couch as if I had been falling through clouds, the memory-like dream I was experiencing just before the alarm screeched to life. I think about college, the last time something like this happened. The last time I was mixing drugs with alcohol in such a reckless manner. I think about the way the police had stared at me then the same way Detective Thomas was staring at me in his office yesterday afternoon—the same way Cooper was staring—silently questioning the validity of my mind, my memories. Me.

I wonder, for a second, if maybe I imagined the necklace. If maybe it wasn’t there at all. If maybe I was just confused, conflating the past with the present, the way I have so many times before.

“You’re mad at me,” Daniel says, walking over to the table and taking a seat. He gestures to the chair across from him, and I follow, dropping my phone on the counter before sitting down and staring at the food below me. It looks good, but I’m not hungry. “And I don’t blame you. I’ve been gone … a lot. I’ve been leaving you here all by yourself in the middle of all of this.”

“In the middle of all what?” I ask, my eyes drilling into the chocolate chips poking out of the browned batter. I pick up my fork and stab one with a single prong, scraping it off with my teeth.

“The wedding,” he says. “Planning everything. And, you know, what’s been on the news.”

“It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy.”

“But not today,” he says, cutting into his breakfast and taking a bite. “Today, I’m not busy. Today, I’m yours. And we’ve got plans.”

“And what exactly are those plans?”

“It’s a surprise. Dress comfortably, we’re going to be outside. Can you be ready in twenty minutes?”

I hesitate for a second, wondering if it’s a good idea. I open my mouth, start to come up with an excuse, when I hear my phone vibrate on the kitchen counter.

“One second,” I say, pushing my chair back, grateful for the excuse to step away, to stop talking. I walk over to the counter and see Cooper’s name on the screen and suddenly our argument last night feels so trivial. Maybe Cooper was right. All this time, maybe he had seen something in Daniel that I couldn’t see. Maybe he’s been trying to warn me.

This relationship you’re in. It doesn’t seem healthy.

I swipe my finger across the screen, ducking into the living room.

“Hey, Coop,” I say, my voice low. “I’m glad you called.”