Page 71 of Love Always

I know immediately what he means is DNA evidence, because it’s really hard to retrieve a pristine sample. Whoever brought in something with Laurel’s DNA on it would almost certainly have their own. The person who dipped a cell phone in freshwater wouldn’t think of that.

“That girl deserves our help,” says Carlson. “We need to find out who did this. It’s already been a month and other than that phone call and some theories, we’ve got nothing.”

“What phone call?”

Carlson directs the next statement to Nic. “I haven’t had a chance to tell Mateus yet.”

Carlson sighs and says, “No wonder you’re confused. I received a blocked phone call late last night on my personal cell phone. The person used a voice modulator and claimed they had more evidence linking Laurel Russo to the murder, but they couldn’t come forward for fear of retaliation.”

“From who?”

“From her boyfriend.”

There was a blinding flash up my leg again and it caught me so unawares I gasp, white knuckling the tabletop.

“You okay?” said Carlson, starting to rise.

Fuck me. Always at the wrong moment.

I control my breathing. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” I decide to just come clean. “I have phantom limb pain sometimes. Sorry.”

Nic stands behind me, his hand on my shoulder again, but this time he doesn’t let go.

“So, this is someone who knows me too. Knows about us.”

“Or suspects,” says Carlson. “I need you to talk to her and if she agrees to help us out, we’ll map it out. ‘The smaller the town, the longer the tongues,’ my pappy used to say. I’ll let her decide what she can handle. It’s not going to be easy.” He pauses and looks at both of us. “You can’t share this with anyone—your business partner,” he says looking at Nic, and then shifting his gaze to me, “or her family. This has to look real.”

΅

Nic pulls into the driveway a beat ahead of me, fairly leaps from the car and takes me on a walk out to this large flat quartz rock between the clinic and The Inn. The ocean crashes in front of us. Light dances on the water on the horizon where sun peeks through the clouds and the islands offshore lay gray-green and solitary. This is some kind of impromptu meeting and he’s wired.

The clouds have returned, steely gray, low and dark. It’s freezing cold and he’s wearing only a suit jacket, but the guy doesn’t flinch. The wind is strong and whips words from his mouth so fast I have to lean in to hear him.

“You need to stay with her at all times again.”

“I get that.”

“If there’s some nutjob out there trying to pin this on her and they have clothes or something with blood spatter they might try to get DNA from her. They'll probably go after something from work or campus.” He stands very still. “It could be hair from a hairbrush or a cup from school. I think planting a water bottle in her backpack as bait might be a good idea. You’ll need to watch everyone.”

My mind has been reeling with all this in the twenty-minute drive from the station. “I get it.”

Then he stands, shoulders back, his jacket flapping open, letting the wind in, almost defiant. “One more thing. We’re not lying, okay?”

“You mean we’re telling them?”

“Yes. I’m not lying to Finn and she needs to tell her family. We will do this together as a team.” He stares out at the sea, his hands in his pockets. He seems calmer now that he’s said his piece. “Finn and Bryce are my family—I don’t mind helping Carlson, but we’re not lying.”

We decide I will talk to her first and if she agrees to the plan, she and I would tell the sisters, Travis and Geo. Nic would then inform Finn and Bryce. We’d leave Jackson out of it for now. There was no reason for him to know. When we’re done, Nic claps me one more time on the shoulder before turning to walk back to The Inn. Then, under his breath, almost to himself, I hear: “We’re not lying.”

I flash on why, maybe, he left intelligence work. There’s a lot of lying to the people you love.

΅

The sisters are not happy. We’re all at the clinic in the upstairs apartment. Cory is across the street at Emily and Ralph Burke’s, an older couple who are trying valiantly to stay in their home and who watched the Russos grow up.

Nic holds court while I stand in the background, not sure if I should weigh in quite yet. Claire sits next to Finn, arms crossed, tense, her small face pinched with worry. Chloe seems relaxed, but Bryce has an arm around her and I can tell by the way he keeps squeezing her shoulder and hugs her to him, he’s trying to keep the devils at bay. The questions fly fast and thick:

“Why does this have to be public?”