Page 90 of I Will Ruin You

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Page 90 of I Will Ruin You

“I was formulating a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

“Something that could help us both out. I know the code to get into his phone. If he got a text or something and the phone was closer to me, he’d ask me to check it. He told me the password. So I can see what his calls are, all his history. Turned it on for a bit, saw all your texts to him that you wanted to come home and be forgiven and shit. Guess you guys had a fight?”

Lucy just looked at him.

“Anyway, so I got a number for the people he was dealing with. Who killed him.”

“Stuart, why would you want to get in touch with them?”

He sighed. “Go have a look in the shower.”

She was frozen for a second, then got up out of the chair and went into the bathroom. Stuart waited, heard her slide back the shower curtain.

Lucy let out a short scream, then said, “Holy mother of fuck.”

She came out of the bathroom with a carry-on bag in her hand.

“So you want to get us both killed.”

Forty-One

Richard

I was trying to put it together. You can do a lot of thinking in a millisecond.

Last night, at some point before or after I’d been there, Bonnie had also been to Billy Finster’s place. And whatever had happened, it had left her rattled, so rattled that when she’d gotten home she’d downed better than half a bottle of wine in less time than it takes to open a can of Bud Light.

She’d been on the verge of telling me what had happened. She hadn’t been to see Marta. That much I knew. When she’d left the house, she’d clearly intended to go to the Finster place, and, having gone there, had done something that was, in her own words, very dumb. I wish there’d been time for her to spill the rest of it, because then I would have had a better idea what to say to Marta in this moment.

I had no idea why Bonnie had gone there or what had happened in that garage that left her totally freaked out.

Marta had a witness that put Bonnie’s car at the scene. I couldn’t think of any possible excuse Bonnie could provide that would be exculpatory. What could she say, other than possibly the truth? But how damning would the truth be, to her or to me?

I felt a need to protect Bonnie, to cover for her, even though I didn’t know what act I might be covering for. My mind was racing, but not quickly enough. I needed another moment to come up with something.

Rachel, God bless her, bought me some time.

She strolled into the kitchen and her face went wide with a smile. “Aunt Marta!” she said, and threw her arms around her legs.

“Hey, kiddo,” Marta said, leaning over to return the hug.

“Is your head all better?” she asked.

That made Marta smile, too. “Yeah, I’m all better in the head.”

“Are you gonna have dinner with us?”

“No, honey. I just needed to talk to your mom and dad about something. But it’s good to see you, sweetie.”

Rachel seemed to understand that amounted to a dismissal. She gave Marta another squeeze to the thighs and went back to the family room as a familiar rumble from outside made the wineglasses tinkle in the cupboard. Marta seemed about to ask Bonnie what that was, but I had a statement to make.

“It was me,” I said.

Marta cocked her head to one side. “What’s that, Richard?”

“I was out last night, took Bonnie’s car.”




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