Friends Like These(65)

“Obviously!” Stephanie shouted. “And by the way, it doesn’t matter if you told them we moved her or not. Because that would still mean she’s dead and we haven’t called anybody? It’s not like that isn’t also a problem.”

“Stephanie, stop,” Jonathan snapped. “It doesn’t matter how we got here. We’re here now. Yelling isn’t going to help.”

“They want more money,” Peter went on, his voice unsteady. “Twenty thousand dollars. On top of the eleven thousand.”

I lowered myself onto the couch. This was actually happening, wasn’t it? How did this situation keep getting worse?

“They want thirty-one thousand dollars?” Jonathan asked. And finally, finally, his hand dropped from Peter’s back.

Peter nodded. “Yes, but then they promised they won’t say anything to anybody about the girl.”

“Oh, well, as long as they gave us their word.” Stephanie brought a hand to her forehead. “We are so completely and totally fucked.”

Holy shit. Stephanie was right. I’d have said as much if my mouth hadn’t been frozen stiff. “It’s fine. We are going to be fine,” Jonathan said, though even he didn’t sound convinced. “I can get at least a decent chunk of it by going into a bank or a couple banks today. Probably not all of it. They don’t always have that much cash on hand. I’ll wire the rest to them. They just want money, right? Luckily, paying them isn’t a problem.”

“And if they won’t take a wire?” I asked. “I mean, they are blackmailing us.”

“If they want the money, they’ll take a wire,” Jonathan said. He turned back to Peter. “How are we supposed to get it to them? Are they calling you back or something?”

“The main guy, Luke, said he would text me later with a location.”

“All right, let’s go get the money then,” Stephanie said, all business now. She checked the time on her phone. “The banks probably close early on the weekend.” This was how she’d been about that night on the roof, once she finally agreed not to call the police: ruthless about getting the actual job done. It was impressive.

I did not move toward the door. “Maybe I should stay? Somebody needs to explain what’s going on to Derrick and Keith when they get back.”

“Good idea,” Stephanie said, clasping one of my hands briefly on her way out. “So much for getting out of Dodge, huh?”

I sat on one of the chairs along the wall in the parlor, waiting and waiting for Keith and Derrick. The whole time, I worked hard to find again that hopeful place in myself. The one everyone counted on to spy the bright side in the distance. Even when none existed. Like right now. Because this situation was catapulting only one way: straight downhill.

Finally, the door opened, and Keith and Derrick stepped inside. “Are you guys okay?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

“We will be,” Derrick said, closing the door quietly and carefully with two hands, like he was sealing off a memory.

Keith wrapped his hands around the back of his neck. “We’re exactly as good as two people should be who just left the body of a perfectly nice girl in a disgusting barn.”

“That sounds . . . traumatizing.”

“It was, and probably best not to talk about it.” Derrick reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze. I managed a small smile. “Where is everybody else?”

“Yeah, there was, um, a bit of a situation with Peter,” I began.

“Situation?” Keith asked. “What does that mean?”

“He seems to have told the contractors about what happened with Crystal,” I said. “And now they’re demanding more money or they’ll go to the police.”

“What?” Derrick stepped closer.

“Yeah,” I said. “Only that she’d OD’d, not that we moved her. It’s still definitely not great. We’ll pay them and hope for the best.”

Keith shook his head. “Holy shit.”

“Is it crazy if the three of us go right now?” I said. “I mean, back to the city. There’s no reason for all of us to stay, under the circumstances.” I eyed Derrick meaningfully and motioned at Keith. “We could even, you know, make a stop on the way.”

Derrick nodded, seeming to get my reference to Bright Horizons, despite the fact that it was hours in the opposite direction and the chances of a Saturday check-in were slim. “That’s a good point.”

“Wait, where did that come from?” Keith was pointing to the fireplace mantel as he headed over, at an empty picture frame.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t see it there before.”

Keith picked up the frame and studied it in silence before finally walking toward the staircase, the frame still in his hands. “I’m just going to, um, go take a shower.”

“Shower?” I asked. “Keith, we’re going to leave.”

Keith shook his head. “No,” he said. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Sure you can,” Derrick said. “Jonathan told me before that you agreed to Bright Horizons. We’ll take you there. Everything is going to be fine.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “There’s just something I need to— I just need a minute to figure something out.”