Page 117 of The Lies I Told
“I appreciate all you did for me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t called 9-1-1 so quickly. I’m here to thank you and this other man if I can find him.”
“I didn’t get his name, but he must have been driving behind you. By the time I put Cody inside and returned, he was gone.”
“No one else saw him?”
“I told the police officer about him, and when the officer asked around, no one said they’d seen him. But like I said, he vanished before the crowds showed up.”
I pulled up the picture from Brit’s social media page and then David’s professional headshot. “Could it be this guy?”
The woman stared at me, a quizzical look on her face before she dropped her gaze. “It’s hard to tell. This guy’s face is turned, and the other guy looks younger. And it was dark that night.”
I enlarged the picture with a swipe of my fingers. “Can you have a second look?”
Again, she studied the picture. “It could be him, but I can’t be sure.” Jenny rubbed Cody’s head. “Did he just happen by, or is this about something else?”
“Like I said, I don’t remember the accident or the week leading up to it. I’m not sure of much at this point.”
Jenny’s brows furrowed. “Was he trying to hurt you?”
I considered lying. Then decided I’d had enough of that. “I don’t know.”
“Let me take another look.” Eyes narrowing, Jenny studied the picture.
My heart beat faster, and I couldn’t decide whether I wanted David to be identified. It would have been just like me to stir up another shitstorm in Brit Stockton’s life.
The woman shook her head. “I can’t say for certain if it’s him or not. I’m sorry.”
“Anything you remember about the guy?”
“He was pretty upset. He was clearly worried about you. He reached in the car, shut off the engine, and told me to call for the rescue squad.”
“How long were you gone?”
“Two or three minutes. Maybe a little more. Time really slows at moments like that.”
“Okay, thank you.” I glanced at David’s face one last time and tucked the phone in my back pocket. Maybe I was overreaching. Maybe I wanted to find Clare’s killer so badly I saw connections that didn’t exist.
“Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
I turned and was on the bottom step when the woman called out. “Do you know Clare?”
“What?”
“I thought he called you Clare.”
48
BRIT
Sunday, March 20, 2022
4:00 p.m.
I fiddled with the ring on my finger, twirling it round and round. The ring was a lovely gesture, but it wouldn’t work. I’d already made an appointment with my jeweler, who was a genius at redoing gems and gold. He’d redone a good bit of Mom’s and Clare’s pieces for me. Annoying to take this extra step, but necessary because I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life bothered by a ring that should carry such meaning. The ring might not have been right, but I would fix that. Just like I fixed everything.
Marisa entered the restaurant only a minute late, and I was pleasantly surprised. My sister was chronically tardy because she liked disrupting everyone’s world. She was so afraid of boredom that she created chaos for entertainment value. Likely that was what had prompted this little invite.
But that was the old Marisa, I reminded myself. Marisa 2.0 wasn’t perfect but was an improvement, thanks in large part to all the effort I’d put into her. I rose, laying my napkin beside my place setting.
