The Neighbor's Secret(81)

Deb’s text said Annie had seen Abe’s video and was pretty upset. She’d ended it with a frowny-face emoji.

How did they even see it, Jen kept asking Abe and Paul. The thought of them all up there, gossiping about her son. Jen rested a pillow over her face and decided she could stay here forever.

“Here,” Abe said. She heard the heavy paper of his note hit her bedside table. She lifted the pillow.

The Laurel Apology, Take Two, “I’m Sorry I Murdered You in a Video Game” Edition. Abe had selected very tasteful stationery: an ivory notecard with a gold border, the most expensive in the Paganos’ collection.

“We’re like hours late now,” he said. “I can hear the party.”

“You can?”

“Listen,” Abe commanded.

Jen tilted her head. There was the hint of a thrumming bass in the background.

“I made the note more honest,” Abe said. “It might be too honest, you tell me.”

Oh boy.

“Read my note. I’ll accept feedback.”

“Fine.” She folded open the paper.

Sorry for not understanding, yes, strong start.

… The video was unkind … True enough, if a bit mildly put.

… When you hurt me …

Nothing after that made any sense.

Jen backtracked to the beginning, tried to read it more slowly. In her hands, the note card shook.

“Abe,” she said, “are you sure this is what happened?”

“Yes.”

She regarded him, from crooked part to those skinny shoulders, which jerked in anticipation. Did I do okay?

What cold comfort that she could read his face after all.

She had to go find Annie.





CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR



“There you are!” Annie had never been so happy to see Janine, even if she was dressed for a field trip to the recycling plant. “I didn’t know you even owned ripped jeans. I have news, Janine. Big news.”

Annie leaned down to Katie. “Sweetie, go join the twins and everyone else on the dance floor.”

But Katie didn’t move. Janine flattened her palms around the girl’s shoulders, gave them an authoritative squeeze.

Katie reached into her pocket and took out a note, which she unfolded. It reminded Annie of an awards show: I’d like to thank the Academy.

But Katie’s speech didn’t start that way.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Perley,” she began, and her voice was noticeably gruff for a thirteen-year-old, “for breaking your front window.”



* * *



“Did you hear?” Harriet Nessel grabbed Lena’s shoulder rather harshly.

“Did I hear what?” Lena wondered whether Harriet was aware that the back of her floral shift had been splashed with the contents of a glow stick. It was as splotchy and phosphorescent as Lena’s flower beds.

Even unflappable Hilde was ruffled. She was at the DJ booth, her shirt untucked and her arms gesturing wildly, imploring DJ Lightning to do something, anything to compel the kids to the dance floor.

“The vandal,” Harriet said, “is Katie Neff.”

“Janine’s Katie?”

“She did all of it! She just cornered Tabitha Donaldson to apologize for the snowman.”

“Oh my, but why—”

“Everyone, back on the floor. Back on the floor!” DJ Lightning chanted. “It’s time to do the Hose!”

“The Hose?” Harriet said. “Is that an actual dance?”

She did not stick around for an answer but beelined to the table closest to them. “Did you hear,” Lena heard her announce, “the vandal is Katie Neff! Janine’s girl.”

The Hose was an actual dance, Lena decided, and a popular one, based on the way the kids streamed to the dance floor. Laurel Perley walked toward the DJ booth, perhaps to request something else?

It occurred to Lena that she’d barely seen Laurel all night.

Rachel’s sister.

It was impossible now not to see Rachel in Laurel’s long strides across the lawn. When they hurried, their torsos tilted forward in the exact same way.

Where was Laurel off to? Not the DJ booth. With a furtive glance over her shoulder, she passed it, headed straight toward the back gate.

Had it just been this morning that Lena had seen Laurel jog up the hill and slink away?

A girl with a secret.



* * *



Jen walked quickly up the dark street to Lena’s house. The flounce of her dress kept catching in her slippery kitten heels, tripping her. Impatiently, she yanked up the front.

“Clap your hands,” shouted a DJ’s amplified voice over the music. “Wiggle like a hose. Now slide back. Do the hose.”

When she reached the path to the party, Jen hesitated. It really did look lovely.

The dance floor was full, and illuminated by rows of twinkly lights. There was a giant tent with tables of food and an insanely over-the-top lounge area with stuffed couches and poufs and Moroccan rugs and Jen was about to barrel into all of it like a grenade.

There was Annie, in the lounge area with Janine. Jen took a breath and stepped onto the lawn. A caterer immediately shoved a cake plate in Jen’s hand and chirped, “Homemade caramel filling.”