Page 28 of Love and Lies

I nodded.

“And what made you sign up at my club under a fake name, Helena?” His voice had grown deeper still, his face steely and serious. But he remained seated behind his desk. He hadn’t thrown me out, so I took a step forward in order to explain myself.

“I didn’t mean to trick you with the fake name, I just didn’t want my family to find out,” I said. “I really want to train here, but my parents would never let me if they knew. And if I sign something under my own name, they’ll find out.”

Simon kept his eyes on me, as if he was debating whether or not to believe me. “Even if that’s true, why are you telling me now? Doesn’t that defeat your plan of staying under the radar? You have to know I can’t let anyone in under a false name. It’s illegal.”

“I know.” I nodded. “But the training isn’t the only reason I’m here. I’m looking for information about the night Valerie and Adam died. And I was hoping you could help.”

“Help?” he repeated incredulously. “How would I be able to help? It was over two years ago; surely everything there is to say about it has already been said.” It sounded like he had nothing to add. He pointed to the door. “You should go, Helena. I can’t help you.”

I stayed rooted to the spot; everything in my head screaming No, no, no. This was my only chance to get information out of Simon. I couldn’t let myself be dismissed so easily.

“You have a sister too, right?” I asked, my voice trembling. Simon looked up. “What if it had been Demi? What if she had died in such a terrible way, and you knew for certain it wasn’t her fault, except the whole world believed otherwise. Wouldn’t you do anything you could to clear her name? Absolutely anything?”

This conversation was going way off script. I’d intended to be detached and objective, but tears were welling in my eyes now, and I couldn’t hold them back. And although I hadn’t planned to get emotional, it seemed to work. Simon’s expression softened a shade or two, and finally he motioned for me to come in.

“Close the door.”

I did as I was told and took a seat on the other side of his desk.

“What makes you think I can do anything to help?” he asked. “There was a whole bunch of your kind of people at the party that night. Why don’t you ask them?”

“Because, unlike you, they all claim that there were drugs at the party. Of everyone who was there that night, you’re the only one who never publicly said a word about it, or about my sister. That’s why I wanted to talk to you—I want to ask why.”

Simon looked at me, rubbing the back of his neck, inhaling audibly, then exhaling again. “If you think the reason I didn’t say anything is because I was protecting your sister, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. I hardly knew Valerie, and even now I don’t know why I went that night. Society parties aren’t really my thing, as you can probably tell.” He gestured around at the roughly hewn brick walls, and I took his drift.

“Adam was your friend, wasn’t he?” I asked. “That’s why you were there.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Simon shrugged his broad shoulders. “He was so happy about the engagement that I thought, Why not?”

“And even though he was your friend, you didn’t say you thought Valerie had brought the drugs, unlike everyone else. How come?”

“Because I don’t lie. Not even for a friend, and certainly not for money.”

“For… money?” I frowned. “You were offered money to bad-mouth her?”

Simon regarded me sternly. “You didn’t hear that from me. I don’t want anyone to hear about it.”

“Of course.” I nodded, not bothering to ask who had offered him money to shit-talk Valerie. I knew the answer. When it came to blaming my sister for her son’s death, nothing was beneath Trish Coldwell, and it didn’t surprise me in the slightest that she’d used such a dirty trick.

“The truth is, I didn’t see any drugs, and I’m sure there weren’t any there after I left, either.” Simon flattened a crumpled piece of paper on his desk. “I told that to the police; I have no idea why they didn’t take it into account. Maybe they didn’t believe me, or maybe there were too many statements to the contrary. I was the only Black guy at that party, the only regular, non-society guy. You know how it goes.” He shrugged.

I thought I could imagine. “You said you were sure there were no drugs. Why?”

“Because after we got to the suite, Adam threw a guy out who had brought drugs with him. It was very discreet, but I was just coming out of the bathroom and I picked up on what was happening from their conversation.”

My heart began to race, as if it could tell I was about to get an important lead.

“Who was the guy, do you know?”

“A dealer, if I understood correctly. I guess someone had sent him as a kind of engagement gift. The kind of thing that would only occur to rich people.” Simon snorted. “In any case, Adam told him he didn’t want him there, and the guy eventually left.”

Someone had sent a dealer to the party as a gift? That was a piece of information I could really use. If I knew who the guy was, I could find him and question him about it.

“Did you get his name, this dealer?” I asked. “Or the person who sent him?”

“No, neither. I feel like his name might have started with P; I’m not sure, though. But Adam knew him—that much was clear. I heard him tell the guy he hadn’t lent him the money so he could buy drugs to push again. He’d obviously given him one of his loans and seemed to be regretting it.”