All the Beautiful Lies(26)

“Tell me about modeling,” Alice said.

“You want to hear the good parts, or the sordid details?”

“What do you think?”

Gina told a few stories. The first time she tried cocaine (“It made me act like my little sister, or like Stephanie Richmond from cross-country, remember her?”), a slew of parties, endless proposals from older men, one of whom offered her ten thousand dollars to sleep with his wife while he watched. “They’re so gross,” she said. “The older they are, the grosser they are.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Alice asked, hoping to change the subject from older men. Gina hadn’t mentioned Jake yet, but she knew she would. She’d alluded several times in her letters over the winter that she thought it was strange Alice was still living with him, that she thought Alice should move to New York City and stay with her for a while. It was only a matter of time till she brought it up. And it was only a matter of time till Jake came home. He was always home by five, and sometimes earlier, since the bank closed its doors at four.

“Let’s go swimming,” Alice said, after Gina told her she didn’t have a boyfriend in New York.

“I don’t have a suit,” Gina said.

“Borrow one of mine.”

“Okay. I guess.”

Alice went to go upstairs, and Gina got up to follow. Alice suddenly realized that it might be obvious to Gina she was sharing a bedroom with Jake. Half her clothes were now in his bedroom, and the bed in her old room hadn’t been slept in in months.

“I’ll bring you down some suits to try,” Alice said, bolting up the stairs.

“Sure,” Gina said, shrugging.

Alice changed into her favorite bikini upstairs, and brought down a few extras for Gina to try. She was shocked when Gina stripped down right in the living room. Gina must have read Alice’s face because she said, “Sorry. Model life. I have zero modesty.”

“That’s okay.”

Gina picked a black bikini that had white lace trim. The bottom fit fine, but the top was too big for her flat chest. Alice got her a T-shirt to wear over the suit, and together they walked across the softened asphalt of the parking lot and the scalding sand to where the waves were breaking against the shore.

“It’s cold,” Gina squealed as they waded in.

“You’ll get used to it,” Alice said, jumping as a wave rolled up against her. She dove under the water, and came up just as Gina tentatively lowered herself into the froth. They swam out together past the breaking waves, then both lay back, spreading out their arms, riding the swells. Gina’s white T-shirt billowed around her.

“Okay, this is nice now,” Gina said. “Maine’s not so bad.”

“Better than New York?”

“God, no. I’ll come back and visit here, in the summer, but other than that . . . no thanks.”

Alice didn’t immediately say anything, and Gina said, “Sorry, that was a little harsh. I’m just talking about for me, of course.”

They rode together up a high swell, then slid down its backside. Alice’s mouth tasted salty. “So you’re done trying to get me to move to the city?”

“How will you know you don’t like it if you don’t try? We’d have so much fun, Al. I mean it. I’d introduce you to my manager, and I bet you could get some modeling work yourself, probably not runway stuff because of your size, but I bet there’d be something. I mean, look at how gorgeous you are.”

Alice laughed. “I’ll think about it,” she said, just to shut Gina up. What she really wanted to say was, Why would I go somewhere where everyone is looking for a better life, when I’ve already found it? I have the fairy tale ending already.

“Is that your stepdad?” Gina suddenly said. She was shielding her eyes with her hand and looking toward shore. Alice did the same thing. Jake was there, just beyond the waterline, looking out toward the swimmers. He still wore his suit—the light blue linen one.

Alice almost denied it, but it was obviously him. Instead, she waved to catch his attention, and said, “Yeah. There’s Jake.”

“God, you are sleeping with him, aren’t you?” Gina said, as they both bobbed in the water, watching him wave back at them.





Chapter 12





Now



“You think he had any enemies? Disgruntled customers?” Harry asked John. They were taking a coffee break after a morning spent packaging orders that had come in through the Internet.

John finished his sip of coffee, holding the chipped mug in both hands. He thought for a moment. “Enemies, no. Disgruntled customers, not really, either. If someone was upset with the books we sent them, we’d always give a refund. Besides, even if we didn’t . . .” He made a face that suggested a disgruntled rare-book collector was not a likely murder suspect.

“And there was nothing strange about that day?”

“Not that I can remember. It was business as usual, and he left a little early, but just because he wanted to get a walk in before it got dark. He did that a lot of days. Do they think this was a premeditated thing?” His cataract-clouded eyes showed concern, as they had ever since Harry had told him what he’d learned the previous day.

“No, I don’t think they have any guesses, except that he was hit on the head.”