When We Were Bright and Beautiful(96)

“My story?” Again, I’m indignant. “Lawrence and I are together, Detective. I won’t testify against him.” But the more I insist, the less confident I feel. “I mean, what should I say to my brothers? To Eleanor? How do I fix our family?”

Haggerty scoffs. “If you and Lawrence run off to New Haven, do you honestly think Eleanor will invite you over for Christmas dinner? Or did you not consider that?”

If I tell him the truth, that I never thought that far ahead, or with any real specificity, he’d never believe me.

“Cassie, come on. You’re smarter than this. I’ve met too many men like Lawrence over the years. There are no happy endings here—for you or for him.”

“Lawrence isn’t like other men.” Haggerty doesn’t understand. “I wasn’t a victim. It was my choice.” We’re talking peacefully, rationally, but I’m spinning so fast I’m dizzy.

“Not every victim is a victim. Some graduate from Columbia and go to grad school at Yale. Some are picture-perfect. Some change the world. Call yourself whatever you want.” He unwraps a burrito for himself and passes the other to me. While he wolfs his down, I take a tentative bite. I can’t believe how delicious it is.

“I’ve never considered a life without Lawrence,” I say quietly. “I try, but he’s always there, even when he’s not. I don’t know how to live without him. I don’t know how to be a person. I can’t do what normal people do, go on dates, talk about myself, have a job, plan a wedding, walk down the aisle. Who would want to marry someone like me? And kids? If I can’t protect myself, how could I ever protect a child?”

“You grow up. You learn how to live. We all do. No one is normal. In fact, I bet you’ll be a better wife, a more empathetic mother. As for your family, when you’re ready, you’ll forgive them.”

“Forgive them? I’m the one who ruined us, who . . .” It’s too intense to think about, like staring into the glare of white light.

“They didn’t protect you.”

“They didn’t know.”

“Cassie, there are no secrets in families. We sense when something is wrong, or off, even if we can’t say exactly what it is. To say Eleanor didn’t know is bullshit. She should’ve known. A parent’s job is to know. She brought you into her home. She raised you. She promised to protect you. And you know what? She failed.”

Pulling into a parking lot, Haggerty shuts off the car and makes his pitch. “You won’t testify alone. We have witnesses. Anton and Joseph Rivera, Maeve McAllister—they all spoke on the record. Did you know Lawrence offered Anton Rivera money to keep him quiet?”

“Who told you this?”

“Eight years ago, Rivera came to me with his concerns. He was iffy about testifying, but I could’ve pressed. Not that it mattered. When I tried to pursue it, I got shut down. Your family was too well known. Too powerful, too connected. But then Billy was arrested, and so I contacted DeFiore and worked with his team. Mostly his investigator. Paul talked to everyone I couldn’t reach.” Haggerty opens his hands. “Two birds, one stone.”

DeFiore. What a piece of shit. “You’re not my client” he told Lawrence. Instead, he used him as bait. Me too.

“So, what’s the problem?” I ask.

“We need you.”

“I can’t,” I say reflexively. “It’s simply not possible.” After the trial, Lawrence promised, we’ll be together. “This is your fight, Detective; not mine. Speaking of—I have to get back.”

“For Lawrence’s testimony? Why would you put yourself through that?”

“It’s fine. He’ll say he knew Diana was trouble. That’s it.” What else could he say? He told me he wasn’t ready to admit the truth. Please wait, he asked. Just a little longer.

“And what about her testimony? What about you?”

“I’m background noise, the puppy the Quinns rescued from the gutter. My role is to make them look decent, open, magnanimous. Lawrence will deny everything Diana said. He’ll call it a baseless accusation, and it’ll be one more way to undermine her credibility.”

“I wish you were right.” Haggerty starts the car. “Cassie, Lawrence is desperate. Desperate men do desperate things. Come on, I’ll take you to the hotel. You can pick up your car and drive to Connecticut.”

Haggerty is the one who’s desperate. He’ll say anything to get me to vilify Lawrence. But he doesn’t know Lawrence, not like I do. “Sorry,” I tell him. “I have no choice.”





56


IN THE COURTROOM, I SIT ON A BENCH IN THE BACK, AWAY from my family. Around me, strangers are gawking, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of my face. But I don’t care. I’m fine, fine, fine. Steeling myself, I focus on Lawrence’s testimony.

After swearing him in, DeFiore asked preliminary questions, mostly about Lawrence’s occupation and marriage. Now he’s homed in on Billy.

“Your youngest son, Billy, had medical issues, correct?”

Yes, Lawrence replies, Billy was born prematurely. Yes, he had heart complications. Yes, he failed to thrive. Yes, he had a stutter. Yes, he was bullied. Yes, his early life was challenging.