Two Truths and a Lie(95)

Katie looked dubious. Morgan was about three sizes smaller than Katie.

“Or mine,” said Alexa, and in the rearview mirror she saw Katie brighten. Why the hell not? She pulled into the driveway, and said, “Everybody out.”

Once the girls were inside Alexa locked the door, installed Morgan and Katie in front of the television and told them they could re-rent the movie and fast-forward until they got to the part where they’d left off. She said she’d make popcorn, and she was rummaging through the pantry for the jar when the doorbell rang.

Never until that moment had she truly understood the meaning of the phrase “jumping out of your skin.”

Shouldn’t she let someone know what was going on, in case something bad actually did happen? Shouldn’t she let Sherri know? Alexa was responsible for two young girls, and they were in danger.

She typed out a text. She didn’t hit send, but she got it ready. Just in case. I think you should come back. After a second she added, I’m scared. I’m really sorry but I found out who you are.

(Three truths, no lie.)

“Alexa!” called Morgan. “Door!”

The doorbell went another time. Whoever was ringing it was pressing down really hard, again and again, and the sounds were reverberating through Alexa’s whole body.

“I know,” whispered Alexa, too quietly for Morgan to hear her. The bad man is coming, she thought. The bad man is coming. The doorbell rang again, again.

The bad man is here.

She sent the text.





77.





Sherri


Sherri had laid her evening bag (also gold, also purchased at Bobbles and Lace) on one of the many cocktail tables scattered across the lawn. There were at least five people in the pool, and others hovering around, looking like they wanted to join in. Once the pool extravaganza was under way she slid the phone out of her evening bag and looked at it, and her heart jumped directly into her throat and nearly straight out of her body. The text was from Alexa.

I think you should come back. I’m scared. I’m really sorry but I found out who you are.



Sherri’s response to this text was visceral, immediate, physical. She left her shoes where they were, took her phone, and ran over to the side of the lawn, where she threw up into the bushes, just beyond where the outdoor lights reached. Her entire body was shaking. Her legs could scarcely hold her up.

I’m coming home, she texted back. I’ll be right there.

Could she drive with the alcohol in her system? Should she? No, she shouldn’t, but did she have a choice? Would she be faster running home?

No. She couldn’t run in this outfit, and walking would take too long. She’d have to drive. The fear had sobered her up. She’d be fine.

But when Sherri got out to the driveway she saw that her car was blocked in by all the partygoers who had arrived after her. It would take some serious maneuvering to get it out. She saw Melanie wandering around the driveway too. “I’ve got to get the hell out of here,” Melanie said. “I’m looking for Rebecca’s Acura. But I can’t find it.”

“I’ve got to get out of here too,” said Sherri.





78.





Alexa


The person on the other side of the door had given up on the bell and was now pounding directly on the door. Hard, again and again and again. Then the person was shouting her name. “Alexa! Are you in there? Alexa. Alexa. Alexa!” Alexa realized, as she disentangled herself from the net of her fear, that she recognized the voice.

It was Tyler. It was just Tyler. She opened the door and leaned against the doorjamb for support.

“Tyler! What the hell? You scared me.” Her knees were shaking but the rattling of her heart began to subside. “What are you doing here?”

Tyler was wearing a Newburyport Clippers Lacrosse T-shirt, jeans, and a Red Sox baseball hat. Under the glow of the porch lights—she had decided to keep them on, after much internal debate—his eyes were bloodshot and at half-mast. Pot eyes. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Alexa thought about Caitlin. He’s pretty broken up about how things ended with the two of you. She looked in the driveway, and out on the street. She didn’t see his car. She stepped aside, and Tyler entered the house. She closed and locked the door behind him. “How’d you get here?”

“I walked. I was downtown.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was with some of the guys. But they all stayed down there.” He leaned in, too close. “So what’s really going on with you and that golfer kid?”

She stiffened. There was something she didn’t like in Tyler’s voice. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her—it was more of a sneer, actually.

“Nothing,” she said. “We just hang out sometimes.” The sneer deepened, and Tyler stepped toward her. She backed away.

“I know you’re lying. I know where he lives too. Off Turkey Hill. I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Talk to Cam? About what?”

“About you.”

“How’re you going to talk to him? You walked here. Are you going to walk all the way out to Turkey Hill? That’s like three miles.” She crossed her arms and she was briefly so irritated that she almost forgot to be scared.