The Better Liar(50)

It felt stranger with Nancy, too easy. I should have felt guilty, but I liked it, the closeness, the way she looked at me, like she was seeing a real person. When Paul looked at me it was more like he saw my demographic, and approved. Twentysomething, redheaded, aspiring actress. Check. I thought about that other woman, the one with the Tesla.

“Do you know anyone named Sam?” I asked. “Sam Driscoll?”

Nancy shook her head a little too slowly. “Who’s that?”

I could have swallowed my tongue. “Nobody. Never mind.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, stroking my face. “On the phone, you said something was going on with your family.”

“I can’t talk about it to you,” I mumbled. “I wish I could.”

“What?” Nancy’s eyes sharpened. “It’s something illegal? Are you in trouble?”

“It’s not me.” I slid off her lap and started pulling on my underwear. “It’s my sister. Anyway, I don’t even know for sure, so…”

“What is it?”

I rubbed my face. “I’m scared you’re going to arrest her or something!”

“Robin.” Nancy reached for my hands and caught them up like a high schooler, fingers laced awkwardly in midair. When she was moving deliberately, she was so elegant in her motions, but moments of distraction revealed her natural hesitancy. “She’s your sister. I swear I’m not going to arrest her. I just want to know what’s going on.”

    “Maybe you should arrest her.” I sighed. “She has another phone. I found it. It’s her talking to some guy about how she gave him all this cash and she wants her money back. I looked up the address where she met him, but it was sold recently and I can’t find out who owned it before, or what the guy’s name is.”

“What’s the address?”

“It’s a Curves gym in Corrales. Why, do you think you could look up what it used to be?”

She shrugged and leaned over to grab her shirt. “It’s not a lot of trouble to look up an address in the system, if it’ll make you feel better. I’m sure it’s just money she loaned a friend. Your sister doesn’t strike me as a criminal mastermind. Isn’t she an accountant?”

“But why keep it on a separate phone?” I widened my eyes. “You know? The Leslie I knew would never keep a phone hidden from her husband. They share all their computers. She leaves her Facebook logged in.”

“Are they having problems or something?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I think maybe—maybe yes. Maybe it’s something to do with trying to get a divorce. Dave’s been—But if she’s into something shady, I have to know. I mean, we’ve only just started talking. I don’t want her to mess up her life like—like I did.” I closed my eyes, and when I opened them Nancy was biting her lip.

“You didn’t mess up your life,” she said. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, visibly shoring myself up.

“Here.” She passed me her phone to type the address and phone number in.

“This is so sweet of you.” I finished typing and crawled closer to her, putting my arms around her neck.

    She batted me away. “I have to go back to work. Everybody’s going to know.” Her face was pink.

“Then you should probably get rid of all the lipstick on your mouth,” I said, wanting to rub my face against hers.

“What, really?” She sat up and leaned forward to look in her rearview mirror. “Fuck,” she said, scrubbing at it.

“I’ve got it. Come to my car.” She followed me out into the dusty lot, the horizon looming. No other cars were on the road this time of day, and it felt like we were in an atmospheric pocket so high up, where no one could see me get my lotion from my purse and dab it on Nancy’s face. She screwed up her eyes as I swept the Kleenex over her skin. It was covered in raspberry stains when I was done, and I held it up to show her.

“Magic,” she said. “Thank you, baby.”

Baby. I let my eyes light up. “I can’t kiss you again,” I said. “I’ll ruin all my hard work.”

She laughed and kissed me on each corner of my mouth, just where it began to curve upward. It was so intimate, like something married people would do. “Don’t worry about your sister. It’s probably nothing.”

“When can you get away?” I breathed, pressing my cheek into her uniform. “Tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Her face shuttered. “Maybe. I’ll text you.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to.” She stepped back, and I pulled myself away from her as if we were magnetized. I leaned on the Nissan, knowing I’d be silhouetted against the white paint, and when Nancy glanced over her shoulder I was touching my lips, letting out a shaky breath.

I could have been in love with her in another life. In another life, I had been, maybe.

Nancy got in her cop car and shut the door. I waited for her to round the bend, and then I scrubbed the rest of my face with the Kleenex. Leslie would be home soon, and I wanted to look like I’d been on the couch all afternoon.