Unravel(58)

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I’ll see you later.”





I drove down Lincoln Road. It was a five-mile stretch that led to Max’s house.

My window was open, letting in the smell of firewood. It was slightly overcast but that didn’t stop a few kids from playing with a sprinkler in their front yard. I drove past them with a fleeting glance.

All I could think about was Lachlan.

I didn’t expect Lana to mention his name. He was a subject that we hardly brought up.

He came into my life at the right time. And when he left, I knew it was for a reason. But I also knew we weren’t finished. I knew he would come back into my life. I just wasn’t ready.

I pulled into Max’s driveway. His car was parked in front of the garage. A silver Beamer was parked in the circular drive. I ignored the pounding in my ears and gripped the steering wheel, trying to get a good look at the car.

“Shit,” I whispered.

That was Lana’s dad’s car.

I pulled up beside Max’s car. My hands were still gripping the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. I tried to imagine why Lana’s dad was here. Maybe it was innocent. Maybe it was for work. Didn’t really matter; every scenario ended badly.

“Shit,” I repeated.

First instinct: Turn my car around. Get the hell out of dodge. Far away from Lana’s dad.

What I would actually do: Stay.

I had to know what was being said.

I walked up the sidewalk. My legs were threatening to give out on me. I went to ring the doorbell but at the last minute I stopped. Now that I knew Lana’s dad was here, I wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. Like a spy who sneaks in and out without anyone noticing.

I stepped inside and scanned the foyer. Lucy, Max’s housekeeper was turning to walk up the stairs with a laundry basket in hand. She stopped and stared at me with wide eyes. She was in her mid-fifties. Her brown hair was graying at the temples. She came here three days a week.

I pressed my index finger against my lips before I motioned for her to come closer.

“How long have they been in there?” I whispered.

“Not long. Maybe five minutes.”

“Okay. Good. I—” I stopped talking when I saw the look on her face. She would cover for Max if anything happened. But I was a different story.

“Naomi, you shouldn’t be here,” she whispered back.

“I’ll leave in a few minutes.”

I patted her shoulder, gave her a reassuring grin and tiptoed to Max’s door. Lucy’s footsteps sounded above my head.

My palms laid flat against the door and I focused hard on what was being said.

“Why are you here? You’re angry that your daughter is gone?” Max’s voice was tense with anger. “Help me out here. Tell me what’s really going on.”

“I know you’re a sensible man, my boy.”

I closed my eyes and gently rested my forehead against the door. That was Michael.

The purpose was to listen to their conversation for a few minutes and get out of there before either one saw me. Yet I found myself turning the doorknob. It was barely an inch but it was enough to see inside. I closed my left eye and turned my face, peeking inside with my right.

Lana’s dad walked the length of the room. He had on black dress pants, a white dress shirt and a navy blue tie. His light brown hair was combed over to the side. Not a hair was out of place.

“I just came here to speak with you,” her dad reasoned. “Man to man.”

Max snorted and leaned back in his chair. He watched Lana’s dad with a sharp eye. “Just say what you need to say and leave.”

Her dad stopped walking and faced Max head on. I didn’t see his face, but I watched his body language. The way he stood, how he crossed his arms. “Whatever my daughter told you, it’s not true.”

Max said nothing.

“I understand that you think you’re doing the right thing. You think you’re protecting her, trying to be a hero. And I find that admirable.” He flashed Max his politician smile. The one that always put everyone at ease. “But there’s no one to save here. Everything is all right.”

Max didn’t buy into his words or his smile. He rested his elbows on his desk. Both of his hands were curled into fists and pressed against his lips. He sat there, the clock ticking the time away, just looking at Lana’s dad with a cold stare. Finally he moved. One hand laid flat on the desk, the other was pointed right at Lana’s dad.

“You can sit there and smile and tell me that nothing has happened. And you can try to tell me that you would never do anything to hurt your daughter. But we both know it’s a f*cking act.”

Her dad’s shoulders stiffened.

“I wonder what everyone in McLean would do if they knew what you really were.”

“I’m nothing but a loving husband and father,” her dad said firmly.

The anger was spreading into Max’s eyes, making him shake. He was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any second.

“I don’t give a f*ck who you think you are! In my book you’re a f*cking rapist!” Max roared.

“That’s a big accusation to make and a huge hit at my character.”

Max smiled darkly. “It’s not an accusation if it’s the truth.”