Little Secrets(77)

Sal seems edgy, and it takes her a few seconds to recognize that he’s nervous. And then it takes her another few seconds to remember why. He doesn’t know that she’s here to talk about McKenzie and Julian. She and her best friend slept together a few days ago, and he’s no doubt bracing for Marin to start telling him what a gigantic mistake they made, and that it can never happen again. He’ll be half-right.

“Before I say anything else, I want you to know that I don’t regret it.” She speaks gently, and Sal’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I don’t either,” he says.

“But it can’t happen again.” She smiles to soften her words. “I’m married, Sal, to someone else. You’re my best friend. And right now, I don’t want either of those things to change.”

“So then you and Derek are working it out?” Sal’s voice is tight.

“For now,” she says.

He nods, crisply, just once. She hates that she’s the one making his face do the thing it’s doing right now, the thing it always does when something is painful for him to hear. He’s trying to hide it, but his body is tense, his hands pressed on the desk like he’s doing his best to keep them from punching something.

“Derek and I have been together for twenty years,” she says, as if Sal doesn’t already know this. “We’ve both made huge mistakes.”

“And I’ve known you longer,” Sal says. “But if this is what you want, then I understand. I wasn’t expecting anything more.”

“Did you want something more?”

“Would it matter?” A short silence falls between them. After a few seconds, he waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I get it. We’re good, Mar. Though it’s not so much fun being dumped for the same guy. Twice.”

They both know he wasn’t dumped. In college, or now. But she lets him have the final word on it, because it’s the least she can do.

“So is that it?” He cocks his head to the side. “You could have told me this over the phone, by the way. I wouldn’t have been offended.”

“Actually, that’s not the only reason I’m here.” Marin leans forward, lowering her voice even though they’re inside the office and there’s no way anyone can hear them with all the bar noise. “I need you to confirm that you did get ahold of Julian when I texted you yesterday.”

“Julian? Yeah, I did.” Sal’s dark eyes narrow. “Why?”

“McKenzie’s missing.”

He blinks. “Who?”

“The other woman Derek was … seeing.” It occurs to her then that she might never have told Sal her name. She only showed him McKenzie’s picture, the nude selfie, which used to be Marin’s iPhone wallpaper. It’s since been changed to a photo of her and Derek in Whistler. “She’s gone.”

It’s Sal’s turn to lean forward. “What do you mean, gone?”

“She hasn’t been home since yesterday. Her roommate posted something about it on Facebook.” She pulls out her phone and shows him Tyler’s Facebook status.

“You’re stalking the roommate now, too?” Sal squints at the screen. He needs reading glasses, like she does, but like Marin, he refuses to wear them.

“Of course.” She shakes her head. “I’d asked the PI to look into the affair, which in hindsight I shouldn’t have, considering I almost hired Julian to…” Her voice trails off, and she clears her throat. “She pointed out that there are now two people missing from Derek’s life. She says Derek’s the common denominator.”

Sal freezes. “So she’s still investigating Derek’s girlfriend?”

“She’s not his girlfriend anymore,” Marin snaps.

“Girlfriend, mistress, whatever.” Sal lets out a puff of air. “Jesus Christ, Mar. You were supposed to tell your investigator to back off. The last fucking thing you need is her poking around in Julian’s business.” He grimaces. “That’s never ended well. Trust me.”

“I did tell her. But she said she’d already started digging.”

“Is she pursuing the theory that maybe the same person targeted them both? Because of something to do with Derek?”

“Well, what else is she supposed to think?” Marin is upset, and her voice is sharper than she intends. She takes a breath, and softens her tone. “But it’s fine. For Julian, I mean. It’s not like the PI knows anything about him. She doesn’t know what I tried to do.”

“You didn’t try to do anything.” Sal says this forcefully. “You hear me? You met a friend of mine in a diner. You ate some food. The next morning, in a completely unrelated act of generosity, you donated a bunch of money to charity. That’s all you did, you understand? At least, that’s all anybody knows you did.”

“What about what Julian knows?”

“That guy won’t say fuck-all to anyone,” Sal says. “If I told you the number of people he’s laundered money for, you’d shit yourself. Names you’d recognize, too. He’ll never talk. It’s an honor code thing with those guys.”

“‘Those guys’? How many of those guys do you know?”

“A few.”