The Golden Couple(110)

So she planned this little private one at the park.

Marissa knows I’m coming, but her father-in-law, Chris, does not.

I’m counting on the element of surprise to continue to serve me well.

On Bennett’s other side, Chris leans over to say something to his grandson. Chris looks like a doting grandpa. He appears to be the kind of guy who would stop and help if you got a flat tire or would stuff a pillow under his shirt to play Santa for a holiday party.

Until you see his eyes.

Matthew inherited his icy-blue eyes from his father.

I’ve put together a timeline since Matthew died, casting back in my memory in between my questions to Skip, fitting in the pieces until the narrative finally flows.

It began with Finley, of course.

But the next person who entered my life was Chris. Not Skip, and not Marissa and Matthew.

I just hadn’t seen him coming.

Like his son, Chris is an invisible architect of destruction. He has been behind the curtain all along, wreaking havoc.

I now know that Chris works in the shadows. Many of his clients seek him out for the kind of services they can’t dirty their own hands with. Men like Chris have always been around: They protect the interests of the biggest players in the most powerful cities in the world. They’re the jury fixers, the eyes in the sky at billion-dollar casinos, the dirty political operatives who take down national candidates.

Chris’s name doesn’t appear on Acelia’s list of employees, but he’s one of their most valued assets.

Shortly after I called in my tip to the FDA, I burst onto Chris’s radar. Chris began looking into my life, searching out potential entry points.

He found out I was single, then he asked Skip to befriend me.

That meeting at the Matisse bar was no accident.

Skip didn’t know many details then. He just thought he was doing a favor for the man he’d known since he was a teenager, the man who’d helped him get a scholarship to Dartmouth and had given him a start in business.

But after a few dates, Skip explained to me, he defied Chris. I liked and respected you too much to try and trick you into giving me information about your clients.

The rest of what Skip had already told me was true: He’d begun to suspect Matthew could be dangerous, so he sent Marissa the Post article about me. He hoped I could help her see who her husband really was and break free from her marriage. At least one part of Skip’s desperate plan worked: Marissa did make an appointment to see me. He just hadn’t counted on her bringing Matthew along.

Skip had no idea that Chris was increasing the pressure on me on behalf of Acelia, sending his henchmen to move my Synthroid medication onto my bureau, follow me to my doctor’s office, and even pose as a new client.

I was looking at your appointment calendar that night when you caught me coming out of your office, Skip confessed. But it was only to see if you were meeting with Marissa. I swear I had nothing else to do with what Chris did to you.

When I got over being pissed off at Skip, I told him I was flattered by the faith he’d placed in me.

Now I walk a little farther down the path at Candy Cane City, enjoying the feel of the sun warming my face and the laughter of a group of kids tossing around a Frisbee.

Marissa catches sight of me and waves me over. “Avery, you made it.”

Her father-in-law whips around at the sound of my name.

Chris’s poker face is impressive. He must need one, in his line of work. His only other reaction to me is a tightening around his lips.

I’ve taken precautions to prepare for whatever he might do next—I did kill his son, after all, and now I know exactly who Chris is, whom he works for, and how he’s connected to my life in ways that have nothing at all to do with his family.

But Chris merely nods at me. I exhale and slide my hand out of my coat pocket.

Marissa turns to Bennett. “Sweetie, this is my friend Ms. Chambers.”

“Can I pet your dog?” Bennett asks.

“Sure. His name is Romeo.”

Bennett holds out his small hand to let Romeo sniff him. “His tongue tickles.”

“Do you want to take him for a walk?” I suggest. “Maybe your mom can help.”

Marissa nods; she’s in on my plan. I hand Romeo’s leash to Bennett.

Romeo ambles off with the two of them, looking back a few times to make sure I’m not going anywhere.

When they are out of hearing distance, I say simply, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Chris shakes his head. “I lost my son when he was sixteen and came home with blood on his shirt the night that girl was murdered. My wife went to bed early that night, but Matthew told her to say he and Skip watched a movie with her, so she did. She always covered for him.”

Chris knew all along what his son was capable of.

I take another good look at Chris, finally putting a face to the dark menace that has been looming over me ever since I blew the whistle on Acelia.

Chris knows where I live, and where I keep my prescription medication. He knows what kind of car I drive and where my doctor’s office is located. But Chris still doesn’t know the singular piece of information that led him to infiltrate my life in the first place: the name of the client who told me about the faulty Rivanux drug trials.

He’s never going to know that.

I’ve spent the past few days collecting more information on Chris than he’ll ever be able to amass on me. With Skip’s help, it has been easy. I know who many of Chris’s other secret clients are. I know where he lives. What keeps him up at night.