Page 72 of Love Always

“What’s the danger?”

“How are they going to guarantee her safety?”

“Do they have any idea who did it?”

“Is this just a wild shot?”

“Won’t it hurt business?” This last is from Claire who is straddling her concern for her sister’s safety with wanting to help Finn and do what’s right.

Finn runs a hand through his hair. “Look. We can’t guarantee anything. We can’t guarantee it’ll work. It’s clear someone is trying to frame Laurel, and that is not going to stop. They will continue to try and plant evidence. This alone could bring that person closer to her and compromise her safety. At least this is controlled.” He pauses and looks at me. “Mateus—”

I push off from the wall. Sitting alone in an old plaid easy chair by the woodstove, Laurel looks miserable, her mouth pressed in a thin line. Her face is pale except for pinpricks of color in each cheek. Her arms wrap around her knees.

“In my training, this situation is a level B activity. These are actions which could put Laurel in the same room as the perpetrator—” I was careful not to use “killer,” “whether or not the police are involved.”

Claire stares at the ground. “What’s a Level A activity?”

“A lot more complicated. And when they know that you know.”

Claire clears her throat. “So, we play along with this ruse under police supervision because either way, the person responsible will eventually try to plant evidence anyway?”

Finn kisses her temple and lets me answer the implied question.

“That’s correct.”

“And that’s how you read it too?”

Suddenly, everyone in the room looks at me. I shift weight to both legs. “Yes. I do. The discovery of this phone and the crude attempt to fake texts from Laurel is more than disturbing. It means the person is feeling some heat. They’re impatient and want this wrapped up.”

Devon, who hasn’t said a word the entire time, finally speaks. “Why? What difference does it make?”

Laurel looks at her.

“Now, or a month from now or a year from now? Why are they rushing this?” Devon’s question, though fair, sends chills down my spine.

“Unclear.”

Nic spreads his hands. “If they can play the blame game and it looks like it worked, the case is closed and no more investigation—the real perp stays in the clear.” Nic speaks with such confidence I almost believe him. In truth Carlson doesn’t understand why this sudden need to affix blame.

“I don’t know,” says Devon. “If it were me, I’d do it just to see that guy get caught. But Laurel, you’ve got Cory too.”

I quickly put that to rest. “It would all take place when he’s at school—he’d never know.”

Chloe breaks free of Bryce’s embrace and leans forward. “The news is not going to be just about you, you know. Or local. There’s local news, Portland, maybe The Boston Globe. Local television. I mean this could affect your schoolwork. You may have to drop classes. I don’t know. I mean you were so excited to go back.”

“I think this is too risky,” says Claire, as always, being direct. “She’ll always be a suspect.”

“What are you getting at?” asks Finn, who, like me, doesn’t quite get small town life yet.

“Once she’s hauled in and the news gets ahold of it, people will talk—forever. And I mean forever.”

Chapter Fifteen

Laurel

It’s this statement, Claire’s statement, the inflexible truth my name would be sullied for years that pushes me off the fence.

I decide to participate in the conversation even though I was being discussed in third person, a fact I choose not to point out.