The Match (Wilde, #2)(74)

“Do we really want to continue to have this discussion in the hallway?” Hester asked.

Jenn still smiled, but there was nothing behind it. It was a defense mechanism, a reflex, nothing more. She stumbled back into her apartment. Hester pushed in first, followed by Wilde.

“Let’s all sit down,” Hester said. “It’s been a long day, and I’m pooped.”

They did. Jenn staggered and collapsed onto the couch. The smile was gone now. Her entire expression had caved in, like a house with the support beams giving way. She cleared her throat and said, “Please tell me what happened.”

Wilde told her about stopping Marnie in the street. She listened attentively, but every once in a while, she closed her eyes as if someone had struck her. When Wilde finished, Jenn asked, “Why would I believe you?”

“Call Marnie,” Hester said.

Jenn chuckled without an iota of humor. “No need.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marnie’s on her way here now. We’re heading to a new burger place in Tribeca.”

It took ten more minutes before the receptionist buzzed up and announced Marnie’s arrival. Hester spent the time talking to her office. The Richard Levine jury had still not come back, and the judge seemed prepared to call a mistrial. Wilde replayed his Las Vegas visit with Daniel Carter. How could his birth father possibly fit into what was happening with Peter Bennett? How did it relate to the murders of Henry McAndrews and Katherine Frole?

For her part, Jenn simply stared straight ahead.

When they heard the knock, all three of them stood. Jenn moved in a haze toward the front door. When she opened it, Marnie was in mid-blather. “You should just give me a key, Jenn. It’s ridiculous not to. I mean, suppose you need someone to come by when you’re away or what’s the point in you having to get up and open the door, oh and this burger place, my friend Terry, remember him, he’s that tall guy with the weird Adam’s apple? He said it’s great and they pay top dollar for influencer photos…”

That was when she spotted Wilde.

Marnie’s eyes flew open. “No!” she screamed at him. “You promised! You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Wilde said nothing.

Tears sprang from her eyes. “Why are you so mean?”

Jenn’s voice was too quiet: “What did you do, Marnie?”

“What? You believe him?”

Jenn said, “Marnie.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Then: “I did it for you! To protect you!”

Jenn’s eyes closed.

“And it was all true! Don’t you see? Peter was a monster! He confessed! That’s what you told me, right?”

Jenn sounded so exhausted as she repeated the question. “What did you do, Marnie?”

“I did the right thing!”

With more steel in the tone: “What. Did. You. Do?”

Marnie opened her mouth, probably to protest more, but when she saw her sister’s face, she realized that more denials would be futile or worse.

Her voice was suddenly very soft, like a little girl crouching in a corner. “I’m so sorry, Jenn. I’m so so sorry.”

*



Marnie came clean.

It took time, of course. There were a lot of I did this for you’s and Peter was a monster’s, but through that smoke, the story came out. As Marnie recounted the events that led her to make those accusations on that podcast, Jenn just sat in silence and continued to stare straight ahead.

“I was out in LA going on a ton of auditions. But nothing was happening for me. Not that that matters. Oh, shoot, I’m not telling this right, am I? Anyway, you know I was a finalist for Love Is a Battlefield, but there were issues finding the right story line to fit my talents. They said I had a ton of star potential, but because I was your sister, it would be weird to launch a separate subplot for me, but if they could tie our story lines together, that could be gold.”

“Who is they?” Hester asked.

“I was mostly talking to Jake.”

Hester looked at Jenn. Jenn closed her eyes and said, “Junior producer.”

Marnie recounted what she’d told Wilde about being called in, listening to a woman’s tearful story (a woman, she now confessed, she hadn’t known before that day or seen since), agreeing to go on the podcast to “help” the woman tell her story. Somewhere around then, Jenn stood up and said, “I have to reach him.”

“Who?” Marnie asked.

“Who do you think?” Jenn snapped.

“But Peter admitted it!”

Jenn dialed Peter’s phone number. The phone had been disconnected. Her texts bounced back. Wilde watched Jenn’s agitation grow. She dialed another number, and when someone picked up, Jenn said, “Vicky? Where is he? I need to talk to him.” She closed her eyes and listened, no doubt hearing Vicky tell her that she too didn’t know where her brother was.

Marnie’s cheeks were coated in tears. “Jenn, he confessed! You told me that! You said he admitted it!”

“No,” Jenn said.

“Hold up,” Hester said to her. “You told me the same thing—that Peter came clean to you, that he confessed right here on this couch.”

“But don’t you see?”