“There are places you can go that I can’t. Questions you can ask that I can’t. And now is the time.”
“Time to do what?”
“First, I’m going to get you an internship at Absolom Sciences. But it’s the other part of the plan that’s more important now.”
When Daniele had detailed what she wanted Adeline to do, the younger woman sat there, stunned. It was brilliant. And it might work.
“One last thing,” Daniele said.
Adeline raised an eyebrow.
“Your father trusted me. I’m asking you to trust me. If you don’t, our chances of getting him back are zero. I know how lonely you feel right now. How betrayed you feel, like the world isn’t fair. You feel helpless and angry and determined all at the same time. If you give me time, I’ll show you a way to set all this right.”
*
Upstairs, in her bedroom, Adeline considered what Daniele had said. She wanted to trust the woman. She needed someone to trust, to talk with, to be there in case she was caught doing what she was about to do.
But deep down, Adeline sensed that there was something off about Daniele. Try as she might, Adeline couldn’t put her finger on it.
She had to admit, however, that Daniele’s plan was good. It might actually work.
She took out her laptop and composed an email.
Dear Constance,
I’m doing therapy to help me deal with my father’s departure.
I don’t know if you’d be open to it, but my therapist suggested I spend time with the people who knew him best, to talk about him and get to know the side of him I never saw. She thinks it will help.
I understand if you don’t want to participate, but I know you were important to him.
- Adeline
The next morning, a response was waiting in Adeline’s inbox.
My dear girl, of course. Anything you need is yours.
Where and when?
~ Connie
Adeline typed out a quick response:
Thank you!
Today if possible. If not, I can make any time work.
I really want to get out of Daniele’s house. I can’t go back to mine for… reasons.
Can we meet at your place?
Adeline chewed a nail as she hit send.
At breakfast, she told Daniele the news.
“Good.”
“What if she doesn’t want to meet at her place?” Adeline asked.
“She will. Trust me.”
Daniele led Adeline to the basement, into a room with a hard rubber floor and a stack of free weights gathering dust in the corner. It had been designed as a home gym, but it seemed Daniele had never filled it with equipment. Or used it much.
It was, however, full of boxes. Daniele opened the closest one and drew out several bubble-wrapped items: picture frames, soap dishes, a small decorative plate, and a painted porcelain figurine of Adeline’s father. Seeing the physical likeness of him sent a sharp stab of sadness through Adeline, as if she had been walking around the basement in the dark and stepped on a nail with her bare feet.
Daniele drew a laptop out of a carrying case, booted it, and opened the surveillance software. One by one, she activated the frames and figurine and soap dishes and tested them to make sure the audio and video came through clearly.
“When did you order all this?” Adeline asked.
“The day he told me he was going to confess.”
Adeline picked up the items and studied them, looking for the tiny cameras and microphones. It took her a while to find them, but she did. She wondered if Constance would realize she had made the swap.
“So we’re really doing this?” Adeline said, still studying the surveillance items.
“We really are. The frames match the ones in Connie’s house exactly, but you’ll have to switch the pictures out. You’ll have to do it quickly.”
Adeline swallowed. “Okay.”
“If you think about it too much, it’ll only make you nervous. Put it out of your mind until the time comes.”
Adeline nodded, but she didn’t feel any less nervous. She wasn’t a secret agent. She wondered if she could really do this.
Daniele gripped her shoulders. “Relax. You can do this. And if there isn’t an opportunity to deploy the devices this time, we’ll figure out another way.”
“You said the timing was important.”
“It is. But so is your safety.”
“If she catches me—if she is the killer—”
“I’ll be listening,” Daniele said. “If something happens, I’ll come. I promise you.”
She reached into the box and unwrapped a handheld electroshock weapon.
“And just in case, I want you to carry this.”
Adeline took the weapon, held it up, and depressed the button on the handle. An electric arc crackled between the two electrodes, causing Adeline to jump.
“This is crazy.”
“It is. But we have no choice.”
Daniele took the weapon and placed it in a backpack. “We can’t be too careful. We can’t take anything for granted, Adeline. What we’re working on here is extremely complex. It’s a mystery of past, present, and future. And you and I are going to solve it. No matter what it takes.”
NINETEEN
Through the night, the storm raged, and Sam floated on the sea and waited, hoping morning would bring salvation.
On his back, he rode the waves, staring at the moon, his mind wandering through the past.
The first memory that the night and the sea dredged up was from college. In it, he was standing in his dorm room shaking his head.
“It’s not mine,” Sam said.
Their sophomore year, he and Elliott lived with two suitemates on a substance-free hall. The floor’s resident advisor was nosy, annoying, and fanatical about the rules. He never missed an opportunity to exercise his authority, and at that moment he was holding up a half-gallon of Jack Daniels whiskey he had found under Sam’s bed.
“I don’t make the rules, Anderson. But I have to enforce them.”
Sam wondered how many times he had recited that line.
The door opened, and Elliott strode in and glanced between Sam and the bottle the RA was holding in the air.
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Elliott beat him to it. “Give it back.”
He reached for the bottle, but the RA dodged him, taking a step toward the door. “It’s yours?”
“Of course it’s mine.”
The RA pointed at Sam. “I found it under his bed.”
“Of course you did.”
The RA squinted, confused.
“I figured hiding it under the honor roll kid’s bed would be safer than mine. Congrats. You found it. Now what do you want?”
“I’m turning it in, and I’m writing both of you up.”
And he had. When Sam asked Elliott why he had falsely confessed, his friend smiled. “It was the obvious solution. My grandfather went broke a few years ago, but for decades before that, he gave millions to this school. I figure those deposits will square this. Mom and Dad will come down, and we’ll meet with the school, and it will be tense, but it’ll be fine. I’ll catch hell at home and probably have to go to some alcohol abuse awareness class—and we will probably have to change dorms, but it will all be fine. But you wouldn’t be, Sam. Not by yourself. You’d lose your scholarship at the very least.”
It was probably the kindest, most self-sacrificing thing anyone had ever done for him.
“We’re not just friends,” Elliott had said. “We’re brothers.”
It was a good thing he had. A week later, after finals, Sam was standing in the kitchen at a house party, holding a red cup full of warm beer, staring out past the bar into the family room at a girl from his calculus class. She wore a striped sweater, a shy smile, and shoulder-length blonde hair. Her name was Sarah Reynolds, and that night Sam walked over to her and said, “Hi,” and after that, and until her death, she was the center of his life.
*
A tall wave flowed over Sam, sloshing saltwater into his mouth. He flailed and coughed and fought with his arms and legs as another wave slammed into him.