The Neighbor's Secret(80)

“Because we’re not going.”

“You need to get out of bed.” Abe walked stiff-legged—the shoes must be killing him, but he did not complain—into Jen’s closet. She could hear the hangers squeaking over the rod.

“This is pretty.” He emerged with a bloodred, in-your-face silk sundress with a voluminous flounce around her feet. She’d had it for years but never worn it because every time she tried it on, she thought nope.

“Totally inappropriate,” Jen said. “Why do you even want to go?”

Nan’s gentle, concerned voice. Do you think Abe has plans to hurt his friend?

“The points,” Abe said matter-of-factly. “I wrote my apology note to Laurel, and Dad said that’s fifty points. I get another fifty when I hand it to her. I don’t have to be her friend, but he explained to me that I can’t get stuck in the usual cycle. I have to break free.”

Jen searched his face. Feel free to chime in, gut.

He held up the dress, gave the hanger a shake. Neutral it was not. At the thought of showing up in that dress, Jen started to laugh the hyenic laugh of a madwoman.

Abe smiled. “What?”

Jen’s phone chimed with an incoming text.

She reached into her pocket and glanced at the screen.

“Deb Gallegos,” she said aloud.

“What does she say?”

Jen was sure it was nothing good.





CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE



Deb returned to the Moroccan Fantasy area with three champagne flutes balanced in her hands. She carefully handed one to Priya and the other to Annie.

“Cheers,” she said.

“Cheers!” Priya sang.

DJ Lightning was playing something wordless and beat-driven. Most of the party guests had moved from the food tent to the dance floor, which was now aglow with the neon sticks.

“I want to dance,” Deb said. “Would Sierra be mortified? She never used to be embarrassed by me, but I sense it coming.”

Annie ignored her. “Jen should have said something to us about Abe’s diagnosis, right?”

“Yes.” Deb nodded.

“Poor Jen,” Priya said.

“Not poor Jen. Jen is asleep at the wheel.”

Annie caught them exchange a look.

“What,” she said.

“Try and have fun,” Deb said gently. “You’ve been obsessing about this for hours. What can you do about it tonight?”

It wasn’t their children who’d been animated and riddled with bullet holes, Annie supposed.

“I’d like to dance,” Priya said tentatively.

Where was Janine? Janine would be right next to Annie, spitting bullets.

“Abe’s the vandal, right?” Annie said. “We can agree?”

“Lena.” Deb reached her arms overhead to flag down Lena. “Annie needs you.” She and Priya linked arms and ran to the dance floor with the speed of escaping convicts.

“Laurel’s made such bad choices,” Annie said when Lena sat down. “Giving your garden key to Haley, becoming friends with a sociopath. I’ve watched her so closely, and I had no idea.”

“It’s nothing incurable,” Lena said. “Nothing permanent.”

“What does that mean?”

“Lena.” Mike rushed over. “There’s a starry-night situation with the glow sticks in the flower garden.”

“A what?”

He grimaced. “You better come with me.”

“I’ll be right back,” Lena said apologetically. Annie watched in frustration as they left her alone in the tent. She needed to harness someone else into this feeling.

Where on earth was Janine?



* * *



“Starry, starry night,” the group of boys chanted in unison.

Lena watched as one of them broke open the glow stick he was holding and spattered its fluorescence all over her hyacinths.

The group cheered and began the chant anew.

“Starry, starry night! Starry starry night! Starry starry night.”

More glow sticks were broken open and spattered on the lawn, Mike Perley’s pants, the low-hanging tree branches.

Lena reached, grabbed a child by the collar. A round face turned toward her. She recognized the impish grin and spiky eyelashes of one of Janine’s twins.

“Where is your mother?”

He tried to wiggle away, but she caught him by the arm, repeated the question through gritted teeth.

“Where is your mother?”

He shrugged and pointed to the patio.

Janine wore ripped jeans and a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and her hair had been stuffed into a baseball cap.

Lena wasn’t trying to be fussy, but everyone else, even the stranger in the Hawaiian shirt, had made a little effort to look nice.

Janine’s hand was gripped around her daughter’s arm, and she was pulling the girl roughly through the path between the tables.

Lena frowned.

They were grim-faced and hunched, like they were walking through a storm.



* * *



“I updated my apology note to Laurel,” Abe said. “To include making the video.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jen said from her bed. It was dark outside now, and she was never, ever leaving.