Page 34 of Love and Lies

“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “If you can entice him outside as a concerned passerby, that’s more than enough.” I got the server’s attention and put my laptop away. I thanked her for the tip about apologizing as I paid, and then Malia and I left the café.

It was colder outside than it had been the last few days, and I zipped up my leather jacket.

“What are you actually hoping to gain from all this?” Malia asked as we walked down the street, keeping an eye out for the black pickup. “Do you think you’ll feel better if you find out the truth about Valerie?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. But I want justice for her. I want everyone else to understand why I miss her so much.”

“I miss her, too, Len.” Malia’s tone was soft. “I miss her so badly. But we already know she’s not to blame for her and Adam’s death. Isn’t that enough?”

“No,” I said. “It’s not enough. Valerie wasn’t perfect, for sure. But she was wonderful, and bighearted, and I won’t have her remembered as an irresponsible party girl who baited her boyfriend into taking lethally spiked cocaine.” I took a deep breath that burned my lungs. “I can’t do that.”

“Okay. I get that.” Malia gave my arm a brief rub. “But you have to—”

“There it is!” I interrupted her. The black pickup. “Are those the right plates?”

She nodded. She walked once around the car, murmuring a soft “Bingo” when she reached the back right fender.

I hurried over and saw a dent, along with a deep scratch. Someone had obviously damaged the car, and Jessiah hadn’t repaired it yet.

“I can use this. I’ll say I saw another driver bump the car when they pulled away and drove off. I’m sure I can buy you ten minutes.” Malia grinned. “Okay, now you’re up.”

I felt an excitement brewing that drove out the cold. I rubbed my hands together. “Can I text you as soon as I’m ready? I’ll have to persuade him to leave me alone in his apartment first before you lure him out.” It was no use my still being out in the hallway; I had to get Jessiah to invite me in to talk for a while. To trust me a little, if that was even possible.

“Sure. I’ll wait nearby.”

I couldn’t put the moment off any longer, so I made my way to the door of Jessiah’s building. He buzzed me in without using the intercom, and as I entered the foyer and headed up the stairs, I was more nervous than ever. The hallway that led to his apartment seemed to go on for miles, and I thought about turning back several times. But then I remembered my goal, summoned all my courage, and knocked.

As I waited, I took a deep breath and tried to get my heart rate under control. Without much success. It must have been going about two hundred beats per minute when the door opened.

“You?” Jessiah stared at me, nonplussed. I could hardly blame him.

“Hi.” I smiled—cautiously, or he’d have known immediately that something was off. I let my gaze wander discreetly over his clothes—a plain black T-shirt and a pair of dark, slightly faded jeans—and lingered a little too long on the toned arms protruding from his sleeves. Hello, Helena, remember the plan? I pulled myself together and looked him in the eyes. “Have you got a minute?”

“A minute? For you?” He hesitated, then stood aside and let me into the apartment.

It was as gorgeous as I’d remembered, cozy and warm, with wooden flooring and dark furniture. I loved the open space, and the industrial charm of the exposed brick and steel beams. The furniture also seemed to be the same as when Adam had lived here, at least I thought I recognized the large dark-green sofa, as well as the rustic wooden dining table and the barstools at the kitchen counter. The last time I visited, it hadn’t smelled as good as it did now, though, which presumably had something to do with the many pots bubbling away on the stove.

“What are you doing here, Helena?” Jessiah asked.

I turned around to face him. He’d folded his arms and seemed a lot more abrasive than the previous times we’d met. I couldn’t blame him. I remembered his reaction to my comment about Adam.

“I wanted to apologize,” I said, my shoulders tensing involuntarily.

Again he looked surprised. “Apologize?”

I nodded. “Yes.” I’d planned to use it as an excuse to get into his apartment. But looking at Jessiah now, I really did feel the need to ask for his forgiveness. “For what I said to you about your brother yesterday. I’m sorry. I was angry, and I wanted to hurt you because you spoke about Valerie as if she… oh, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t okay. That’s not normally me, and I don’t want to be that person.”

Jessiah opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, one of the saucepans began to boil over. He crossed quickly to the stove, picked up a wooden spoon, and stirred the contents.

I took a few steps in his direction, stopping when I reached the island.

“It was a pretty shitty thing to hear, more than two years after the fact,” Jessiah said, holding my gaze. “But… I guess you were provoked.”

“Maybe.” I nodded. “Still, it wasn’t okay.”

He shrugged. I didn’t think he was really going to forgive me just like that, but he seemed to want to put the issue to rest. “And here I was, thinking you were going to apologize for that number you pulled at training,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Nope,” I replied, with a cautious grin. “That you deserved.”