The Lies I Told(51)

“Good.”

When the doctor left, I rose and glanced toward the stainless towel dispenser and caught my reflection. I looked almost the same. Felt almost the same. But something inside me had changed since the accident. I was jumpier. Nervous to be alone. Paranoid. The subconscious knew more than me, and so far, it wasn’t talking. But that was going to change.



On the way home, I stopped at the electronics store and found a young guy with green hair and a nose ring who wore the company’s trademark blue pullover shirt. Asking about surveillance cameras sounded quirky to me, but when I finally spit out the words, he didn’t seem to care. His indifference said something about either him or the state of the world. Everyone watching everyone.

I left a half hour later, a few hundred dollars lighter and with three mini cameras in a plastic shopping bag. Back at my apartment, I spent the next hour setting up the cameras, finding the most traveled angles in my apartment and tucking them beside potted plants, between books, and in my camera case (hide in plain sight). Next, I synced up all the screens to Wi-Fi and a freshly downloaded app on my phone.

I opened the app, stared at me standing in the center of my apartment. Watching the phone, I walked toward the front door until I was out of range and then toward my bedroom. Each camera caught a version of me, and the red lights signaled they were recording. The recording lasted only twenty-four hours, but that should’ve been enough time if I ever had a moment like the one I’d had last night.

Was I expecting to catch someone breaking into my apartment? No, not really. I hoped I was wrong and that it was my overactive imagination playing tricks on me. But a niggling feeling deep in my core whispered otherwise. Whatever had happened in the moments leading up to the accident meant something. The neatly made bed and open window meant something. I know where you live. I can get to you.

“Whoever you are, I’m now watching you,” I said softly.





29


BRIT

Thursday, March 17, 2022

10:00 a.m.

I stared at the picture of the twin girls. They were wearing green dresses, bows in their red hair, and big grins. They’d been five when the picture was taken, and I remembered the day as if it were yesterday. Neither one of them had liked the bows, and Mommy had worked hard, smiling, waving favorite dolls, and promising ice cream if they’d smile. None of it had worked, until I had stood behind the photographer and started making funny faces. Clare had been the first to smile. Marisa, always the stubborn one, had finally given in and grinned. To this day I could tell them apart in the picture based on Clare’s bright grin and Marisa’s begrudging smile. Anyone else looking at the picture couldn’t have told who was who, but I could. I’d rarely been fooled by my girls.

A knock on my office door had me turning, squaring my shoulders, and smiling as my secretary poked her head in through the crack. “Jack Dutton is here to see you.”

A warmth still spread through me when I heard his name. Whatever we’d had a long time ago was gone, but he’d been my first, and that reserved a special place for him. “Send him in.”

Jack entered my office, grinning, standing tall in his navy sport jacket, white button-down, and khakis. At thirty-three he remained as fit as any teenage boy. In high school, he’d done time in juvenile detention, and when he returned to the outside world, the kids had been as fascinated as they were scared of him. The boys wanted that rough edge, and the girls were drawn to his dangerous good looks.

Now the dark-blond hair was shorter, but it was still thick, and the bangs were ready to slip over his forehead.

I’d been surprised when Jack had started flirting with me in my senior year. Though he had his pick of the blond freshmen, he’d gone for me, the brown-haired geek. I’d been studying my ass off so I could get a scholarship and get out of my house. But after that first look he’d shot my way, I forgot all about the twins, Dad’s plans to remarry, and my academic future. When Jack was in the room, life just felt better.

It’d taken little effort for him to coax me into the back seat of his car. I’d been lonely, afraid, and feeling so overwhelmed by life I could barely breathe. He had taken my virginity in his Wrangler on a hot June night. We’d dated on and off through my senior year, and when I left for college, he’d visited once. But by then my workload had grown, and away from home and high school, his allure had faded for me. I couldn’t see a future with a guy who had a record and dim prospects. After Clare died, the breakup came easily. When I told him, he said he understood. He was cool and calm, and I’d been disappointed he wasn’t more torn up.

“Hey, Brit.” He crossed the room, kissed me on the cheek. He still smelled of the same expensive aftershave. “You look fantastic.”

“And so do you.” His charm had been what had won me. “Have a seat.” I gestured to the two walnut chairs. The desk behind the chairs was expensive and had cost a good chunk of my inheritance, but it was worth it. “So, you want to talk about buying more real estate?”

“I do. I’ve come into some extra cash, and I’ve never been a fan of playing the stock market. Like I told you, I want to invest in more property.”

“I might have just the building for you,” I said.

“I’m all ears.”

“The buildings around the corner from J.J.’s Pub. Real estate in the area is reasonable now, and there’re a couple of apartment buildings that might be ripe for purchase.”