The Book of Cold Cases(61)

For the first time in a long time, Lily actually looked surprised, and the surprise wasn’t pleasant. “Beth, what are you talking about? Mariana’s family is just as rich as Julian’s.”

Beth took another drink of wine. “That’s true, but Mariana is the only one left. And her mother left all of her money to Julian.”

“To Julian?”

Beth nodded. “I heard them talking about it. Our grandmother thought it was best that her husband look after all of it because our mother doesn’t know how to handle money. So he got all the money, and he gives Mariana an allowance.” She had never really thought about this before; her parents had never argued about it, both of them accepting it as the natural order of things. But she could tell by Lily’s face that something was wrong. “What is it?”

Lily looked off into the darkness, her breath pluming, her skin pale against the night. “Damn it,” she said softly to herself. “I’d laugh if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.”

Beth felt her jaw drop at the word. Lily had no problem swearing, but even she rarely used the f-word. “Lily?”

“God damn it,” Lily said.

Beth was starting to get scared—drunk and scared—so she said, “Can we talk about something else now?”

Lily’s eyes had that cold look that made Beth want to get back on her bike and flee. “Of course you don’t want to talk about money,” she said. “You have all the money. From Julian, from Mariana. I bet you have a trust fund, don’t you?”

“Not until I’m twenty-one,” Beth said. “And it isn’t a lot. I still have to get an allowance from my father.”

“An allowance,” Lily said. She took a step toward Beth, pulled a glove off. “You’re going to get an allowance and marry a rich man, and someday when Julian is dead you’ll get that, too. And me? I’ll just disappear.”

Beth watched Lily’s bare hand. Something about it disturbed her. She was so drunk, and she knew now that she shouldn’t have talked about this, shouldn’t have told Lily those things, but she couldn’t say why. “You won’t disappear,” Beth argued. “You’ll stay here. You’ll have Mariana and me.”

“Will you let me visit at Christmas?” Lily asked. Her hand touched Beth’s hair where it came out from beneath her wool hat, stroked down the silky red strands. “Will I be allowed to sit on a chair in the living room if I stay quiet and wear my best dress?”

“What are you talking about?” She didn’t like Lily touching her hair. Lily wasn’t a toucher; she didn’t like to be hugged, held, or even to hold hands. She found the touch of other people repugnant, but now she was running her fingertips down Beth’s hair.

“Do you know what I think?” Lily said. “I think you’ll marry some rich, boring man and decide you feel guilty about me. And you’ll invite me over for Christmas, and when I get there you won’t be able to think of a single thing to say.”

Tears stung Beth’s eyes, because that hurt. “You know that isn’t true. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

“You will, though, and I’ll be no one. I’ll take more pills, and then I’ll take the wrong pill and I won’t be able to stop, and one day I’ll take enough of them that I’ll never wake up again. Because no one is coming to save us, Beth. We aren’t little girls anymore, and it’s time to face the fact that no one is coming to figure things out for us and make them better. We have to decide for ourselves or disappear into nothingness. Sometimes I think the only way to be someone is to do something bad.”

Her fingers were still touching Beth’s hair. Beth’s hands were numb inside her gloves, and she didn’t want the wine anymore. In this moment—despite the absurdity of it, despite the fact that there was no evidence and no reason—she could see Lily pushing David off that edge. In this mood, Lily was capable of anything. When she’d been home last year, when David disappeared, Lily had been seething with anger. And this year was worse. “Lily, you’re scaring me.”

“Women don’t even get to do that, do we?” Lily said. “The really bad things. We get to be the girlfriend.” Her voice rose, shrill. “?‘Oh, he seemed so nice. He seemed so charming. I never believed he could hurt anyone.’ Why don’t you ever hear of a woman in a clock tower?”

Beth was confused now. “Why would you want to go into a clock tower?”

The fingers stopped their stroking, and Lily put her hand back into her glove. “I wouldn’t,” she said. “I’d have no reason. Why don’t we go home now? I think you’re tired.”

Beth was tired. And after Lily was gone yet again, that entire night, that strange conversation, seemed like a dream. Lily was a teenage girl, not a—whatever Beth had thought she was. It was ridiculous, really. No one would believe a pretty blond teenage girl was capable of truly bad things.

No one would believe that at all.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


December 1970





BETH


The Christmas Beth was sixteen, Lily didn’t visit. Mariana said that Lily was “busy,” but Beth knew the truth: Lily wasn’t invited. This year, Julian and Mariana took Beth to a Christmas party instead.