Page 28 of The Guilty One
His smile falters just a hair, and I can’t help wondering if he suspects I’m lying, so I grin wider, tucking my phone into my pocket and patting it. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around, okay?”
“Have fun with all those projects,” he teases, zipping back inside.
I make my way to the car door, cursing my luck. I can’t take the phone back inside now, and I also can’t take it with me out of town. I could tell Celine I was meeting a client, I guess, but I don’t deal with properties two hours outside of the city, so I’m not sure she would believe it. I could say I’m meeting a client who lives outside of the city but owns a property or is looking for a property here. It wouldn’t be the most illogical thing, but I also can’t risk her starting to make connections between Nelson Insurance and me. It’s just too big of a gamble.
If I turn my phone off, my trusting wife will become suspicious. At least, I know I would be if the roles were reversed. I could call a cab, I guess, and leave my phone in the car, but the charge to get hours away and back would be astronomical. So I do the only thing I can think to do at this moment.
Dakota picks up quickly as if he were expecting my call.
“I need you to pick me up.”
“When? Now? Why?”
“Yes, now. I did what you said. I took the week off, and I’m going to talk to Bradley’s fiancée. But I need to leave my phone at the office so my wife doesn’t know where I’m going, which means I need to leave it in my car. Which means I need another car to get me to Dublin.”
“You were going to go without me?” he asks.
“Didn’t really feel like a two-man job.”
“Got it,” he says, sounding slightly offended but clearly trying to hide it. “Well, I’m not in town right now, so it’ll take me like thirty or so minutes to get there, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Cool. Thanks. See ya.” I end the call and tuck my phone into the glovebox, checking my reflection in the car mirror. I’m exhausted and it shows, but I’ve always been good at putting on the bravest of faces.
True to his word, Dakota shows up less than an hour later, rolling his truck up right next to where I’m parked. I slip out of my car and into the truck quickly, shutting the door before muttering, “Thanks again.”
“When I didn’t hear from you yesterday, I was starting to think you were going to ignore me.”
I was, but I’m not going to admit that now. “I just needed some time to get a game plan figured out.”
“And what is the game plan?” He pulls out of the parking lot, glancing over at me. “Obviously for you to go to Dublin alone.”
Ignoring his apparent attempt at wit, I buckle in. “We’re going to Dublin to check on his fiancée and see what she’ll tell us about his death.”
I can’t tell if he’s on the verge of laughing or screaming at me. “That’s it? That’s your plan? We just stop at the house of a woman we’ve never met, who doesn’t know us from Adam, and say, ‘Hey, give us the scoop on the dead guy you almost married’?”
I scowl. “Well, obviously not like that. I figure we can stop and pick up some flowers on the way.” I pat the pocket where I’ve stored a bit of cash. “Tell her we are old friends of Bradley’s and we’re sorry to hear about his death. Just sort of get a feel for things. Play it by ear. If we find out he’s told her about that night, we’ll tell her it’s a lie. That Bradley was always a little off.” I feel disgusting even saying it, lying like this, but I have no real choice. I made my decision back then, a decision I’ve regretted every day since I made it, and I can’t go back on it now. I can only accept the consequences of what I’ve done and try to move forward and be better. “We’ll offer to help her however we can.”
Dakota nods and shifts his gaze as we stop at a red light. When he speaks again, he’s looking directly ahead. “I need to tell you something.”
I wait.
He clears his throat, rubbing a hand across his mouth. “I’m starting to think…” He pauses, licking his lips. “What if we’ve been wrong about all of this? What if the person who killed Bradley actually wasn’t any of us? What if it was someone else entirely? Someone who knows what we did and wants to get revenge or force us to confess or something?”
“What?” I cock my head to the side, studying him. “Do you mean his fiancée?”
“Possibly. Just someone that’s not any of us. Someone who found out, either back then or more recently.”
“Why would you think that? Why would anyone who knew back then have waited this long to do something about it? And if they just found out, that means one of us talked. Did you tell someone?”
“No,” he says, his voice steady. “No, of course not. I’m not stupid. We said we wouldn’t tell a soul, and I haven’t. Not even Tosha. We’ve been married three years, and I haven’t brought it up once. I wouldn’t do that to you guys or myself.” He pauses. “Why? Did you?”
“You know I haven’t. You said it yourself, I have the most to lose.”
“Not even when you were drunk or something?”
“I don’t drink.” My brows draw together. “This is getting oddly specific, and now I feel like you definitely told someone.”
“No.” He cuts a line through the air with his hand. “I didn’t, but I’ve just been wondering lately because I’m starting to think I’m being followed.”