Open House(34)

“Not long,” Priya said. “It was freezing. At some point Dean just opened the door.”

“So Dean was the first to enter the house?”

“He was,” Priya said. “Or, maybe Haley was, actually? I don’t remember. But Brad and I followed them both inside.”

“How did Dean know the door was unlocked?”

“They usually are, at open houses,” Priya said, trying not to sound snotty. But wasn’t that obvious?

Salinas didn’t seem offended. “Was the door ajar, or simply unlocked?” he asked.

“I think just unlocked. I definitely didn’t see it open a crack or anything like that.”

Salinas nodded. “And what happened next?”

“We called Josie’s name a few times. Dean did, I think, and then Haley. Brad and I mostly followed their leads.” Salinas looked at Priya like there was something wrong with that. “And I signed myself in,” Priya said quickly, “because I saw that Josie had left a sign-in sheet for visitors. And Haley suggested that we go upstairs, but then there was a strange sound from the kitchen, so we all went back there, and that’s when we saw Josie lying on the floor.”

The door swung open, and Priya turned to see a thirty-something woman dressed in a traditional police uniform. The woman’s gaze traveled all over Priya, and she didn’t seem impressed with what she saw.

“Detective Harris,” the woman introduced herself, “and I know who you are.”

Priya’s cheeks burned. Detective Harris was carrying a slim laptop, and she moved gracefully across the tiny room and sat next to Salinas, who grunted something indecipherable. Detective Harris opened her laptop, and she and Salinas stared at it for at least a full minute. Priya felt like crying, but she knew she couldn’t, so she lifted her eyes to the spiderweb of cracks on the ceiling and counted the faint lines.

Finally Detective Harris spoke. “You arrived separately from your husband, if I have the vehicle registrations sorted correctly.”

Priya met the woman’s stare. “I did,” she said.

“Why is that?” Detective Harris asked.

“Because I had plans after,” Priya blurted, and then wanted to kick herself for mentioning something that Brad’s statement would probably contradict.

“You had plans after the open house? In a storm like this?” Salinas asked, arching his eyebrows in mock incredulity. “Really?”

“Really,” Priya repeated. She lifted her chin and tried to appear confident. “My neighbor is having troubles,” she added, thinking about how Alex’s husband had been laid off this week, and how that made it less of a lie, and in fact she’d planned to pick up Elliot and Robby at Alex’s after the open house and bring them back to her own house for a day of play. That’s what happened when two only-children lived next door to each other.

“So you were going to be a good friend,” Salinas said. “That’s kind of you.”

Detective Harris smiled, but it was far from friendly, and it made the bags under her eyes pooch and crinkle. “I just interviewed your husband,” she said flatly. “And he told me that you were in a fight, and that’s why you drove separately. So which thing is true?”

“Both are,” Priya lied. “We got in a fight, and I was going to my neighbor’s after to pick up my son and his friend. I don’t see what my marriage has to do with this.”

Salinas nodded as though Priya were a child he felt terribly sorry for, and she tried to steel herself. They were wrong to think she and Brad had anything to do with this. She was sure of it.





TWENTY-SEVEN

Emma

Ten years ago

Just meet me. Talk to me.

I’m still slumped in the back of Noah’s Jeep as I read Brad’s latest text. We’re parked now, and even though the sky is dark there’s a full moon, plus a lone streetlight shedding a golden glow across the parking lot. It’s not really a proper lot; it’s more like a tennis court–sized gravel clearing in the woods that we’re sharing along with a few other cars whose owners are probably already at the party. An aging wooden sign with a chalky yellow arrow marks the entrance to the trail that leads to the campsite. Josie unbuckles her seat belt and makes fun of Noah for needing to cheat off her test this week in their sociology class, saying that he’s going the way of his Dartmouth-dropout sister, and I can tell she’s pissed him off by the set of his jaw. But he pretends she hasn’t gotten to him, telling her to please shut up because he’s trying to write a text. Finally they both spill out of the car, and I stay in my seat for a bit longer, exhausted just thinking about trekking all the way there and setting up camp with Josie and Noah like one big happy threesome when we’re not. And I’m nervous thinking about what Noah has planned for the tents: Are we all sharing one? Josie’s email to Noah is really bothering me, and I know I need to ask her about it, but I also need to deal with Brad. The weird thing is that I do kind of want to see him, to have closure, and maybe also to get a break from this night with Josie and Noah. I unlock my phone and dash off a text:

Meet where? I write back, just to see what he’ll say, and maybe just to keep it going, really. Maybe some part of me likes the drama; I can admit that, at least.

Not here, he sends back a moment later.