You Are Not Alone(81)

She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been before the other women had embraced her, filling the void she’d carried around since childhood.

But she wasn’t truly one of them, after all.

They must know it now, too.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE



SHAY


Common law enforcement misconceptions:

You can explain your way out of trouble.

If you cooperate with the police, you won’t be charged.

You’re safe if an officer didn’t read you your Miranda rights.



—Data Book, page 67



SEAN HAD AN AFTERNOON consulting gig that he offered to cancel, but I told him to go ahead.

I could tell he was still worried about me, but I convinced him I wanted to take a long, hot shower and a nap.

He got me situated in my old room—the new office—pulling out the futon and setting out a pillow and set of sheets. He also gave me one of his hoodies and a toothbrush still in its plastic packaging.

“Jody will be home soon,” he said just before he left. “I told her you’d be staying the night.”

After I shower, I put back on my jeans and Sean’s sweatshirt. I close my eyes briefly as I inhale his scent. Then I head into the study.

Jody has completely transformed the space. It’s almost unrecognizable. One wall is painted a pale yellow, and a trio of black-and-white prints hang over the narrow desk.

I sit on the edge of the futon and open my Data Book, rereading all the dangling threads I can remember since meeting the Moore sisters.

They knew Amanda and I didn’t meet through a veterinarian. They knew what Amanda was wearing on the day she died even though they weren’t there. They appeared right after I spotted the woman in the polka-dot dress going into the subway, but they said she didn’t exist. They made me over to resemble Amanda. They encouraged me to move into Amanda’s apartment. They sent me to shop at Daphne’s boutique, but they never told her I’d be coming. I fell into a strange, hard sleep after they came over and gave me a glass of champagne—which they switched with a different glass.

I add a few more lines: The Moore sisters left my apartment—the door only needed to be pulled closed to automatically lock, just like the one in the police station—and I woke up the next morning with all those strange things on my floor. And now they’ve abruptly turned on me.…

I hear the front door of the apartment open and my heart leaps into my throat. Then Jody calls out, “Hello?”

Before I can get up to greet her, she appears in the doorway.

I’m shocked when she hurries over and hugs me tightly. “You poor thing.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. Her words bring me close to tears again.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? Or something stronger?”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks for letting me stay here tonight.”

Jody picks up my blue shirt, which I’ve left at the foot of the futon next to the set of sheets, and smooths it out before folding it into a perfect square.

“So what happened, exactly? Sean told me a little, but…”

I start to recount the story again, but a truncated version of the one I’ve relayed to Sean.

“Here, let me make up the bed for you,” Jody interrupts.

I stand and walk over to the desk, to set down my Data Book so I can help her stretch the sheets across the futon.

Then I see it.

An unusual vase: an upside-down hand with a hollow wrist where the flower stems go, only Jody has filled it with pens and pencils.

I recognize this vase. I saw it when I house-sat for Cassandra and Jane’s friend.

I blink hard, unsure if it’s another apparition. Then I reach for it, feeling the cool china in my hand. It’s real.

I spin around, still holding it: “Where did you get this?” I blurt.

Jody pauses in fluffing my pillow. “It’s fun, right? A client of mine had one in her kitchen and I loved it, so I found it online. It’s perfect for the room, isn’t it?”

That vase. It’s another coincidence. There have been too many lately surrounding my relationship with the Moore sisters.

“What was the client’s name?” My throat is tight, making my voice sound a little strangled.

“Uh, Deena…” Jody frowns. “I can’t remember her last name. She paid in cash. That part I do recall.”

I never got the name of the woman I house-sat for. But I remember her address.

When I recite it, Jody pulls out her phone. “That sounds kind of familiar.…” She scrolls through her calendar. “Hang on, I’ve got it, I just need to find the day.… It was a couple of weeks ago.”

She looks at me, her expression startled.

My legs give way and I collapse onto the edge of the futon.

“How did you know?” Jody asks.



* * *



I can’t sleep that night. I lie awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, going over everything in my head until I’m dizzy. I finally doze off around dawn, but my rest is fitful.

I get up as quietly as possible, since Sean and Jody’s door is still shut, then dress in Sean’s hoodie and my jeans again. I don’t want to carry the bag the Moore sisters gave me, so I tuck my cell phone and small folding wallet into the big front pocket of the hoodie. I also put my sunglasses on top of my head.