The Last to See Her Page 14

  “I don’t want to splatter marinara all over the white stone,” she told Joe as she stirred. He laughed.

  “Trust me, if this kitchen can live through me, it can live through anything.”

  “You built this yourself, didn’t you?” she asked, looking around at the stone, the white cabinets, the floor-to-ceiling windows. She knew he had—all of it. “It’s impressive.”

  “Well, I’m not the doctor in the family.” He dismissed the compliment, and she could tell he wasn’t used to getting them.

  “I hope Meg knows how good she has it,” she announced. “Thad hires someone to do the littlest of things.”

  Joe laughed, and so did she, and they settled into an easy partnership of preparing dinner. She sliced the garlic bread. He browned the meat. When the house was pleasantly filled with dinner smells, Gen’s stomach was growling, and Joe had set three places at the table.

  Joe poured Joey cold apple juice and got beers for himself and Gen. Then they sat and ate together.

  “I like having you here,” Joey told her. “Can you come every night? Want to help me with my bath? Ohhh, you can read me a story.”

  Gen’s stomach tightened at the hopeful look in his wide eyes. “Mommy doesn’t get to be here at bedtime much, does she?” she asked him, ruffling his hair.

  Joe shook his head, answering for his son. “Not really. When she started a private practice, the theory was that she’d have fewer hours. But then the hospital asked her to still be on-call, and it was extra money, and that just became habit. And now she mainly speaks at conferences, so she’s gone for days at a time.”

  “Money isn’t everything,” Gen told her brother-in-law. He nodded.

  “I agree.”

  With that, Gen knew that it was all Meg’s choice. And she couldn’t help but wonder how many of these nights were actually spent consulting, in surgery or preparing her lectures and slides, and how many were with Thad. Maybe they were fucking right this minute. That thought caused her blood to boil again.

  She smiled at Joe. “What do you guys normally do in the evenings?”

  “Well, usually I take Joey to the park down the street. Burns off some of his energy so he’s ready for bed,” he replied wryly.

  “Let’s do it,” Gen said, smiling at her nephew. “Go get your shoes on.”

  He whooped and hollered as he ran for his room, and Joe turned to her.

  “He’s eating this up.”

  “I love it,” she replied. “I should come more often.”

  “You’re always welcome.”

  Joe grabbed his shoes and she grabbed hers, and together, the three of them walked down to the park. Gen pushed Joey in the swings and followed him down the slide.

  An hour later, she and Joe got texts at almost the same exact time, his from Meg, hers from Thad—both saying essentially the same thing.

  Running late, don’t wait up.

  Gen shrugged, as if to say, What can we do? and pretended that it wasn’t an all-too-convenient coincidence. If Joe thought it was strange, he didn’t say, but Gen didn’t think he noticed.

  “So you come here every night after dinner?” Gen asked Joe on the way home.

  He nodded. “Yeah. It’s been our thing—Joey’s and mine—for forever.” He didn’t have to add that Meg rarely came. Gen already knew.

  “Meghan really doesn’t like being outdoors,” she said instead. “She’s always been that way.”

  Joe rolled his eyes.

  After Gen had read Joey two stories, turned on his night-light and tucked him in, Gen gave Joe a platonic hug and headed home. When she was in the cab, she looked through her phone for a phone number, finally finding it.

  Her friend Kennedy.

  She lived nearby, had a little four-year-old daughter and was divorced. She was the world’s sweetest person and deserved someone like Joe. And Meg deserved to see what it felt like if her husband cheated. She swallowed the anger and dialed Kennedy’s number.

  She and Kennedy chatted for a bit, and she casually dropped the information that her brother-in-law was practically a single father, and that little Joey could sure use a friend to play with. She told Kennedy how they went to the park every night, and Kennedy was surprised to hear it was just down the street from her house, too.

  “I’ll have to take Isabel down there soon,” Kennedy told her before they hung up. “Maybe we’ll bump into them. Isabel could use a new friend, too.”

  Perfect.

  Gen smiled. She was only setting up the pieces. If Meg didn’t make more of an effort to get home in the evenings, and if things started happening between Kennedy and Joe, that would be on Meg. Gen was simply trying to find a playmate for Joey, not to take revenge on her sister.

  She was a good aunt.

  The fun aunt.

  She leaned her forehead on the window for the rest of the ride.

  31

  Meg, Now

  Meg waited while Thad talked to Hawk back in the bullpen. She was restless, for some reason. Having Thad and Hawk in the same room was stressful, even though she recognized that standing side by side, they were night and day.

  Thad was polished and smooth, while Hawk was rugged and masculine.

  She thought of Joe, sitting at home, patiently waiting on her, and felt guilty. She’d always choose Joe, she told herself, although she wasn’t sure if she still believed it. Joe was sweet and docile, a golden retriever. Somehow, for some reason, Meg came to realize she preferred Dobermans...a fierce man who could protect his woman.

  God, that was so Neanderthal, but nonetheless, it was true. Maybe the entire reason she had...transgressed with Thad was because Joe simply wasn’t what she needed in a man. Everyone was different, and someone would love Joe for who he is. She loved him, for God’s sake. She just needed something different. She blinked the thoughts away. She’d deal with those later.

  Thad was with Hawk for twenty minutes or so.

  When he came out, Hawk was behind him.

  “I’ll have my assistant send you my itinerary,” Thad was telling him. “I’m staying at the Aristotle Hotel.”

  “The same hotel as Meg,” Hawk said, scribbling it down on a notebook.

  “Yeah.”

  Meg’s neck bristled. She didn’t like the way it sounded, but Thad had been right. It would look odd if they weren’t civil, if they weren’t working together. A crisis should bring people together.

  The men looked at her as they walked out, then she turned toward Hawk.

  He smiled, short and efficient.

  Thad said to her, “Do you want to share a cab back to the hotel?”

  She almost physically recoiled.

  Hawk noticed.

  “She still has to talk to me,” Hawk told him. “I don’t know how long it will be.”

  “It was only twenty minutes for me,” Thad said, glancing from the detective to Meg.

  Hawk shrugged.

  “She usually has more to say than you did.”

  That made Meg want to laugh, but she didn’t. She had never had a problem speaking her mind. It amused her that Hawk had noticed.

  Thad seemed disgruntled by it, but he left.

  When he was gone, Hawk turned to her.

  “You okay?”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant. Surely, he didn’t know about her and Thad. Surely, Thad hadn’t said.

  “I mean, there seems to be some tension between you two.” He shrugged again.

  “Yes. He’s revealed his true colors,” Meg said in explanation. “He’s turned out to be more of a dick than I ever thought. He doesn’t even seem to care that Gen is gone. It’s unsettling.”

  “Well, they are in the middle of a divorce,” Hawk pointed out. “I’m not saying he’s not a dick, but it’s not uncommon for an ex-spouse to not feel that lovingly towa
rd their ex.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t seem to care at all,” she argued. “It’s not right.”

  “Not everyone is a good person,” Hawk said, and he seemed to be dismissing it now.

  “Did he say anything that implicated himself at all?” Meg couldn’t help but ask.

  Hawk stared at her.

  “You know I can’t say anything.”

  She studied his face. It was impassive, unyielding. He wasn’t going to say anything. Sometimes, he seemed friendly, then other times, like now, he seemed closed off.

  “Why do you have to be so professional?” she grumbled.

  He laughed and looked at her.

  “Come on back. Let me catch you up.”

  “Oh, so you can tell me some things,” she said, trying to be clever, but he just shook his head.

  She followed him to his desk and sat down. He handed her a soda.

  “Do you have diet?” she asked.

  “It causes cancer, Dr. McCready.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Everything does. What have you found out?”

  “Well, I’ve gotten access to your sister’s bank records. Did you know that she has her own separate apartment in Chicago?”

  Meg’s head snapped back, and Hawk nodded.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “No,” she confirmed. “Where is it?”

  “Just down the street from the condo she shares with Thad.”

  “Maybe she kept the place she had when she was single years ago? But why would she?”

  “I don’t know yet. I have to have it added to the warrant. That should happen tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know why she’d still have it,” Meg said, confused. “That just doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t she tell me she kept it?”

  “She spent quite a lot of money on it, from what I can tell,” Hawk added. “Furniture, art. I asked Thad if the charges were for their condo, and he said no. So they must be for her apartment.”

  “Was there anything else unusual about her bank account?”

  “Well, there was one thing,” he said, and paused.

  “Yes?”

  “She hired a private detective. She’s paid him almost fifteen-thousand dollars so far. I’ve got a call in to him so I can find out why.”

  “A private investigator?”

  “Yeah. Probably to find out who her husband was sleeping with, but I can’t assume anything. We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Meg swallowed hard. Had Gen known about her and Thad? Had her PI figured it all out? She stared at the wall, at her hands. Anywhere but Hawk. God, please don’t let anyone find out.

  “So after you get the warrant for her apartment, how long until you get someone in there to look at it?”

  “Actually, I’m thinking now that I’ll fly to Chicago myself to investigate that. I want to make sure nothing gets contaminated.”

  “And you can only trust yourself for that?”

  “It’s a good rule of thumb in life,” he answered.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “I want to go back, too,” she told him. “I can see my son—you told me not to leave the city, so I didn’t, but I miss him, Detective. My Joey.”

  He noted that she didn’t say she missed her husband, but he didn’t say anything.

  “That’s understandable. Why don’t you fly back with me. I’m leaving later tonight. You can come over to the apartment tomorrow after I check it out.”

  “You want to see it first?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  She sat still for a second. “Because I’m still a suspect?”

  He didn’t answer.

  He didn’t have to.

  She squared her shoulders. “When are we leaving?”

  “Well, I’m leaving on an eleven p.m. flight. You are free to come whenever you’d like.”

  “Do I need to come back here to the city after?” she asked.

  “Don’t you want to be here if your sister is found or comes back?”

  “If it was within her power, I know she already would be here,” Meg told him. “But I’ll ask Thad if he will stay in the hotel room while I’m gone. Just in case.”

  “I’m sure she’d love coming back and finding him there,” Hawk said wryly.

  “Like I said. If she could’ve come back, she already would’ve.”

  “You sound so sure,” Hawk replied, studying her. “We don’t know that yet.”

  “I do.”

  As they were leaving and she was hailing a cab, she realized that she might’ve implicated herself by saying that, to sound so certain. But she did know that about her sister, that Gen wouldn’t torture her family like this, and Meg wasn’t going to hide that fact. Meg knew she was innocent, and truth would out. That’s the way things worked. This was America, for God’s sake.

  32

  Gen, Then

  Gen stared at her wall, at the pictures of Meg and Thad, the myriad of pictures with the other woman who called herself Ms. Thibault, at the maps, at the pictures of Thad and Angie.

  After the call to Jenkins, she asked him to take some additional pictures...of Thad with Angie. She had come and gone from “Ms. Thibault’s” apartment, and why? Was it some sort of love nest that he used for all of his lovers? How many did he have?

  Her wall was growing larger, and it had outgrown the poster board she had originally bought for this purpose. She’d wanted Jenkins to get more pictures of Thad and Meg, but he hadn’t been able to capture any. Her husband was wily. She sat still and contemplated sending Meg the photos of Thad with Angie.

  It would have to be anonymous, of course, and it would send a dagger right through Meg’s heart. But if she did that, then Meg would probably call it off with him, and that didn’t suit Gen’s plans. Not at this stage.

  No, Gen had set the ball in motion, and it was already rolling.

  She couldn’t change things now.

  Then again, no matter what Meg chose to do at this point, it wouldn’t change what she’d already done.

  Gen could basically proceed with whatever plans she wanted, and it still wouldn’t change the fact that her only sister had slept with her husband.

  Her fingers sifted through the large pile, the ammunition that she’d acquired.

  Gen had so much of it now, so much proof. There was so much deception here, so much darkness. She’d never have thought it of her sister, and she was sure Joe hadn’t, either. Should Gen tell him?

  She pictured his face and Joey’s, both so loving and kind. It would crush them, and she didn’t want to be the one to do that. She’d rather let Meg handle that business on her own.

  Today was a Friday, and she wanted to mess with Thad. She knew he probably had plans with Meg for that evening... Wasn’t that what people in relationships did on the weekends?

  So she texted him.

  Hey. I thought we could have a date tonight? What do you think?

  The thought honestly turned her stomach, but she didn’t have to sleep with him. In fact, she would never have sex with him again. But messing with him was much different.

  Far different.

  He answered an hour later.

  I wish I could, honey. But I’ve got to work late.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  No. Listen, I’ve been patient for weeks. I need time, too.

  It took him another hour before he texted back in agreement, and she could feel his resentment. He probably had to cancel something romantic with Meg, and that brought her immense satisfaction.

  She returned to their condo, intent on playing with his mind. It was only fair.

  She buffed and shaved and perfumed. She lit candles and ordered takeout, and set it up as a picnic on the living room floor overlooking the city. It was the perfect romant
ic setting.

  Thad would be horrified.

  She smiled.

  When he finally came home at 8:00 p.m., she was sure he expected her to have given up, to have put on sweats and be lounging on the couch. But she hadn’t.

  She was standing on the balcony, facing the door, her sheer nightgown fluttering in the wind around her. She felt wild, she felt free, and Thad was intrigued. She saw it in his eyes as he approached her, as he took in the entire setting.

  “This is new,” he observed, stopping next to her. He put his hand on hers, and she didn’t even recoil.

  “I thought we needed a nice night,” she answered. “I haven’t seen you very much lately.”

  “I know. Work has been so insane,” he agreed, and she knew he was lying. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he glanced at it.

  “Speaking of, it’s Angie. We’re working on a case, and it’s taking so much time.”

  “Don’t answer,” Gen told him. “Take tonight off. Just tonight.”

  Thad’s eyes glinted, wondering what he could be in store for, what carnal delights. He obliged, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

  “Okay. I’m all yours.”

  Lies, she thought.

  But she wrapped her body around his anyway, nuzzling his neck, her legs interwined with his. He grabbed her, and kissed her hard, thinking he would fuck her right here on the balcony.

  She pushed him away and laughed.

  “Not yet,” she told him. “You’ve got to wait.”

  Thad smiled, thinking that she meant only a few minutes or an hour, and he was inclined to play along, to make the reward worth it.

  She led him to the living room floor, and they sat down. She draped her soft, smooth legs over his, and fed him olives and crackers and cheese. They drank wine, and she was as charming as she could be, and treated him like a king. He ate it up and asked for seconds, his hand on her back, on her arm, on her neck.

  He thought she was seducing him, and maybe she was.

  She wanted to crush him.

  She wanted to deny him.

  And she would.

  She took his shirt off and nuzzled his chest, trailing her fingers lightly over his skin. His nipples puckered and she sucked at them, working them into hard tips. His breathing fractured, because she knew this was what he liked best, and she knew exactly how to do it.