Two Can Keep a Secret(85)
I’m not sure I’ve heard him correctly. I almost have my head wrapped around Mr. Nilsson’s warped psyche, but Viv’s calculated plotting shocks me. “What? No. You have got to be kidding. She did all that crap—freaked people out, brought up horrible memories, and totally traumatized Lacey’s parents—so she could write about it?”
“Yep,” Ryan says grimly. “And that’s why you got dragged into it. Viv fixed the homecoming court election. She thought it’d be more newsworthy to have Sarah Corcoran’s niece involved.”
“Newsworthy?” The word tastes bitter in my mouth. “Wow. She’s a special kind of horrible, isn’t she?”
Ryan looks like he fully agrees, but all he says is, “We traced the pep rally stunt back to her, and were about to talk with her parents when Brooke disappeared. Then we couldn’t give the situation as much attention as we wanted, although we did let her know she was busted. She was terrified, and swore up and down that she’d stop immediately. So I was surprised as hell when Malcolm turned up with that video.”
“Why would Katrin get involved, though?”
Ryan hesitates. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that. We’re in discussions with Katrin’s lawyer about what kind of role she’s going to play in the investigation. Her reasons are part of those discussions, and they’re confidential.”
“Did she know what her father was doing?” I press. Ryan folds his arms across his chest without answering. “Blink once for yes.”
He snorts, but more in a fond sort of way than in annoyance. I think. “New subject.”
I twist the blanket between my hands. “So you had the whole thing figured out, and all this time I’ve just been getting in your way. Does that about sum it up?”
“Not entirely. The repair receipt was genuinely useful, especially knowing how much Brooke wanted to find it. When we added it to the bracelet and her diary, we knew who we were dealing with.” He gives me a half smile. “Plus, you almost getting killed gave us probable cause to search Peter’s car, so … thanks for that.”
“Any time.” My eyelids are getting heavy, and I have to blink fast to keep them from drooping. Ryan notices and gets to his feet.
“I should go. Let you get some rest.”
“Will you come by again?”
He looks flattered at the hopeful tone in my voice. “Yeah, sure. If you want me to.”
“I do.” I let my eyes close for a second, then force them open again as he stands. “Thanks again. For everything.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. For that moment he reminds me of the old Officer Rodriguez—the skittish, subpar cop, instead of the crack investigator he turned out to be. “Hey, so, this is maybe not the time or the place,” he adds, hesitantly, “but … if you’re feeling well enough, my sister’s having a fall open house in a couple of weeks. She does it every year. She wants to meet you and Ezra. If you’re up for it.”
“She does?” I ask, surprised. I’d almost forgotten that Ryan has siblings.
“Yeah, but no pressure or anything. Just think about it. You can let me know later if you’re interested.” He smiles warmly and lifts one hand in a wave. Then he turns, disappearing into the hallway.
I sink back onto the thin pillow, my haze of tiredness suspended. I’ve almost gotten used to Ryan, but I’m not sure how to feel about even more strangers that I’m related to. Going from a family of three—four, with Nana—to this sudden influx of half siblings, their spouses, and their kids seems like a lot.
I kind of like the idea of a sister, though. Maybe a half one wouldn’t be bad.
There’s a rustling sound at the door, and the scent of jasmine. I half twist on the bed, and spy a cloud of dark curls framed in the doorway.
“Ellery,” Sadie breathes, her blue eyes sparkling with tears. Before I can remember that I’m mad at her, I’m returning her hug with every ounce of strength I have left.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Malcolm
Saturday, October 26
“This kid hates me,” Declan says.
I don’t think he’s wrong. The six-month-old baby he’s holding is sitting stiff as a board on his knee, red-faced and screaming. Everybody at this party feels sorry for the kid, except Daisy. She’s beaming like she’s never seen anything so adorable.
“I can practically see her ovaries exploding,” Mia murmurs beside me.
“You’re holding him wrong,” Ezra says. He scoops the baby up in one deft motion, cradling him in the crook of his arm. “Just relax. They can tell when you’re nervous.” The kid stops crying and gives Ezra a giant, toothless grin. Ezra tickles his stomach before holding him out toward Declan. “Try again.”
“No thanks,” Declan mutters, getting to his feet. “I need a drink.”
A pretty, dark-haired woman climbs the porch stairs, squeezing Ezra’s arm as she passes. “You’re so good with him!” She’s the baby’s mother, Ryan Rodriguez’s sister, and we’re all hanging out at her house two weeks after Peter Nilsson’s murder attempt like everything’s back to normal.