Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NOAH
As my first week in the city comes to an end, I have to admit, living in New York is kind of fun.
There’s everything you could ever want, right at your fingertips. I always thought New Yorkers were standoffish, but it turns out, there are lots of really nice people in Von’s building. I met a Rick, in 6A, at the gym—he’s going through a divorce, and I let him vent his feelings as we spot each other doing bench presses. The gay couple in 11C have asked me to join their book club. I find out that Benito works two jobs, putting his kid through college, and Sam knows the stats of every single player on the Mets roster. I’m a Yankees fan, so we razz each other a bit every time I go out for groceries.
With Patrick willing to testify and Von and Grayson prepping for the pretrial hearing, I’m feeling extremely confident that this whole thing will be over by the holidays. They can’t put me in jail if I have an alibi. With that dark cloud no longer hovering over me, I dive into the assignment Von gave me. Someone murdered Marion and it sure as shit wasn’t me. So in between making new friends, working out, and making sure Von gets a homecooked meal at the end of every day, I start to go through the case files again.
Wilbur finally sent over the discovery. It’s nothing I haven’t looked through before, but I try to approach it with fresh eyes. By Friday, I feel like I’m beginning to have it all memorized—the 911 call Russell made, the interviews with the family, the lack of forensic evidence collected in the pottery shed where Marion was shot. Except for the shell casing. How did the MBSD miss it, all those years ago? And why my print? Was that an accident? Or did the person who shot Marion use my gun on purpose?
But why frame me?
The questions circle my mind like water circling a drain.
I reread the letters the stalker sent. There were three of them that Caden found, locked inside a desk drawer in a small study at the Everton mansion, each of them tagged as evidence in the files.
Letter 1:
Marion—
I think about you all the time. The look you gave me yesterday told me you think of me too. Do not deny our love.
Letter 2:
Marion—
Why can you not accept we were meant to be together? I would do anything for you. Did you receive my gift? No one understands you the way I do.
Letter 3:
Marion—
Our love is eternal. Why do you resist it? I know you feel the same. Surrender to the inevitable. I can’t wait another day. I must be with you.
There were no fingerprints on the letters, no DNA. They’re unsigned and undated. But two things stand out to me: the look Marion supposedly gave this person, and the gift. I wonder if she kept that too, hidden somewhere in the house. I note the person doesn’t really use contractions either—just that one can’t in the third letter. It makes the writing sound overly formal. I’m not exactly sure what that might mean, but I’m making notes on everything, no matter how small or insignificant.
I wake on Saturday morning and lie in bed for a moment, listening to the now-familiar sounds of traffic coming in through my open window. I wonder what Von does on the weekends. She strikes me as someone who works nonstop. Maybe she’ll go into the office like it’s any other day. I don’t know why the thought pricks at me. She’s working on my defense so I should be glad she’s focused.
But I’ve come to enjoy her company over this week. Being on the same team with her hasn’t been as frustrating as I imagined. She’s whip-smart—I knew that already—but she’s also got a cutting sense of humor and sometimes I think I see a softer side of her peeking out from beneath her armor. The way she folds herself onto the couch at the end of a long day. The unexpected patience in her voice when a junior associate calls her in the evening for advice. She’s even started doing the dishes after dinner. I didn’t think Von knew how to do dishes.
I throw my covers back and head down the hall to the bathroom. The sink in here drips sometimes. I should do something about that. I turn on the shower and let the hot water flow over my back.
The weather will start to change soon, now that we’re entering September. In a few weeks, the leaves on the trees will turn red, and orange, and gold. By the time we return to Magnolia Bay for the hearing, the smell of woodsmoke will fill the air and I’ll get to feel a crisp breeze on my face.
I towel off and dress in my usual jeans, grabbing a black tee and scratching at the coarse hairs that cover my jawline. I’ve never gone this long without shaving, but I kind of like growing out a beard. It makes me feel like I could be a different version of myself here. Even if just for a short time.
I head into the kitchen to make coffee and Von’s green juice and nearly walk right into Von herself.
My brain screeches to a halt as my knees lock. I’ve only ever seen Von in work clothes—pencil skirts, high heels, silk blouses. I’ve grown so used to her attire it almost feels like a part of her. A second skin. I’ve only known Weekday Von.
Saturday Morning Von is a whole other thing entirely.
She stands in the kitchen wearing a pair of sky-blue athletic leggings and a matching crop top, with a yellow zip-up jacket folded over one arm. Her skin is taut and smooth across her stomach, her leggings showcase the swell of her hips, hugging her toned thighs, her feet laced up in a pair of bright yellow Nikes. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail and it swings over one shoulder, brushing the tops of her breasts.
I can’t catch my breath. I don’t know where to look. Everywhere I want to look, I feel like I shouldn’t. This is Von. This is Caden’s sister. My cock twitches against my thigh and it makes me jump. Christ, what am I doing? She’s my lawyer .
But fuck, those legs…
“Morning,” Von says, and I realize my face is slack and I’m gawping at her like an idiot.
“Morning,” I say, hurrying to grab a mug from the cabinet, grateful to hide my face for a minute. I need to pull myself together. Caden’s sister, Caden’s sister, I think on repeat as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Where are you, um, legging? I mean, going?”
“I thought…” There’s a pause, and she clears her throat, a delicate sound that echoes over my skin. I feel too-awake all of a sudden. “I have a surprise for you.”
I whirl around so fast, the room spins and Von becomes a sky-blue blur. “For me?”
She smiles and runs a hand down the length of her ponytail. Something about that thick rope of hair sliding through those slender fingers makes my groin ache.
Caden’s sister, Caden’s sister…
“Yeah. You’ve been stuck in this neighborhood all week. New York’s a big city, you know.” She winks at me and my heart stutters. I’ve got to get a grip.
She glances at the mug in my hand. “You can finish your coffee first.”
“I’m done,” I say instantly, putting the mug on the counter.
She laughs. “That was quick.”
I grin and hope it looks cool and not lame. “I want my surprise.”
I cannot imagine what Von has planned. If someone had told me a week ago that Von would be taking me on a surprise trip in New York City, I would have laughed in their face and said I’d rather get a root canal.
I glance at my own attire. “Am I dressed okay?”
Her eyes rake down my body, her gaze sending tiny prickles over my arms. “You’ll do,” she says, the hint of a grin tugging at her lips. “Come on.”
She strides down the hall, leaving me to hurry after her. The leggings hug her ass and leave nothing to the imagination. She presses the button for the elevator and when she turns back to me, I yank my gaze up and quickly turn my attention to the art on the walls.
When we get in the elevator, as soon as the doors close it feels too claustrophobic. I’m hyper aware of the length of her arm, the swath of bare skin across her stomach, the scent of her, floral and feminine. Von slips into the jacket but leaves it unzipped. I have the sudden, dangerous urge to run my palm over the curve of her hip.
I clench my hand into a fist and focus on the floors counting down on the screen above the doors. This is ridiculous. I’ve seen plenty of women in yoga gear in my life .
The elevator doors open, and we both say our hellos to Sam and Benito before heading out into the city. Von takes out her phone but I stop her.
“Can we take a cab?” I ask.
“A cab?” Von is looking at me like I’ve just suggested we go on horseback.
My ears go hot. “It’s just…I have this list of things I’ve always wanted to do in New York, and taking a cab is one of them.”
Her expression changes to something I can’t quite pin down. She blinks and it’s gone. “Sure,” she says.
Only a few seconds later, I see one trundling down her street. I throw out my hand, feeling like I’m in a movie. The bright yellow car rolls up to a stop and I open the back door, turning to Von with an elaborate bow. “After you, my lady.”
Von barely hides her apprehension as she gets in. It seems pretty normal to me—fake leather seats with a scratched plastic barrier between the driver and the backseat. There’s a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror.
I slide in after her and my knee accidentally nudges her thigh, sending a thousand sparkles over my skin.
“Where to?” the cabbie asks.
“Seventy-second and Central Park West,” she tells the driver, who nods and pulls out into traffic.
“What’s at seventy-second?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” she replies with a sly smile.
I cross my arms and pretend to huff. “I’m not sure I like surprises.”
“Too bad.”
Von pulls a pair of oversize sunglasses from out of her jacket pocket and slips them on. I roll down my window and let the not-so-fresh air of the city wash over me. The streets flash past in dizzying fashion, becoming more crowded the farther we head uptown. When I catch the first glimpses of the trees of Central Park, I sit up straighter .
“Is my surprise in Central Park?” I ask eagerly.
Von mimes zipping her lips.
The driver lets us off and I follow Von into the park. There are winding narrow paths that weave through stretches of grass and enormous boulders sunk into the earth. There are people everywhere—sunbathing, setting up picnics, jogging, biking. But there are so many trees, and I gratefully inhale their deep, familiar scent. I’ve missed nature.
I figure out my surprise as the path we’re on emerges out at a large lake. It’s dotted with people in tiny rowboats. “We’re renting rowboats?” I yelp, my eyes catching on a green-roofed building, all awkwardness melting away with my excitement. This was on my list!
“Ta da,” Von says, taking off her sunglasses. Her cinnamon eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “I thought…I asked Charlotte if there was anything you wanted to do in New York and she said this.”
For a moment, I’m speechless.
“Von…” I can’t find the words.
“I’m not giving you the crown jewels,” she says, her ears turning pink. “They’re just rowboats.”
I’m feeling a bit like I’ve been clubbed over the head. Von reached out to Charlotte. About me. Von planned something thoughtful. For me.
She talks to the guy running the rentals and before I know it, I’m stepping into a small pink rowboat. I turn and see Von hovering on the dock.
“Come on in,” I say.
She chews her lip. “I don’t…this isn’t really my thing.”
“It may not be a yacht,” I tease her, “but I think you’ll survive.” Her gaze darts to the prow of the tiny boat swaying gently with the movement of the water. I realize she’s not being snobby—she’s nervous.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Von nervous. It makes my ribs go oddly soft .
“Here,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’ll help you.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re not going to dump me in the water, are you?”
“No,” I promise.
“Because you did dump me in the water that one time we went to Jones Beach when we were kids.”
“As I am no longer a ten-year-old boy, I swear I will not dump you in the water.”
“Promise?”
I hold up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Of course you were a Boy Scout.”
She reaches out and takes my hand. Hers is so small and delicate, her nails perfectly manicured. I feel a bit like an oaf with my callouses and rough palms. As I help her into the boat, it pitches beneath us, and she tumbles into me.
“Oh!” she cries as I catch her in my arms. Blood rushes through me in a disorienting way, making my skin crackle where Von’s body presses against mine. One of my hands splays across her lower back, the other wrapping around her shoulder. She’s so soft, her skin supple beneath my palms. The scent of her is everywhere and as she looks up at me, she presses her top teeth softly into her lower lip and the ache inside me grows. I have the sudden urge to run my thumb across that lip, to dip my mouth to hers and suck it between my teeth.
“Sorry,” Von says, disentangling herself as I flush because wow, those thoughts are inappropriate. Von wobbles to take a seat on one of the benches that cross the boat.
“It’s fine,” I say, but my voice comes out a bit strangled. She quickly puts her giant sunglasses back on and I put the oars in the water, trying to calm my racing pulse.
I pull us away from the dock and out onto the lake. Von keeps her gaze trained on the shore, her eyes hidden. I wish she’d take the sunglasses off. I want to see her whole face. I try to focus on the smooth feel of wood in my hands, the tension created as I pull the oars through the water. It’s a beautiful day, a handful of fleecy clouds dotting the cerulean sky, the sun casting golden ripples across the water. I can see some buildings poking their tall heads up in the distance over the tops of the trees, some square, some pointy. But it’s quieter out here. That’s something I’ve always loved about being on the water. The sense of peace it imbues.
Von seems to relax a bit too. Her shoulders lose some of their tension. “Good surprise?” she asks.
“The best,” I say. “I can’t believe Charlotte told you about it.”
“Should she not have?” Von asks, sounding worried. “I didn’t mean to pry, if it’s like, a private thing between you two.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” I say, grinning. “I’m just surprised she remembered my list at all.”
Von’s mouth puckers. I get the sense she’s deep in thought. “So, what else is on the list?”
“The usual stuff. Yankees game. Broadway matinee. Take the subway. Empire State Building.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Ew. You can do that one on your own.”
I chuckle. “Am I allowed to leave Soho now?”
“You’ve shown yourself to be quite responsible this week, I’ll give you that,” she admits. “And it seems like Alistair has successfully gotten the press off our backs.”
I like the way she says our . She seems to relax more the deeper into the lake we get, leaning back on her hands and turning her face up to the sun. I allow my gaze to trace the curl of her collarbone, skimming over the soft rounds of her breasts. My jeans feel suddenly tight, and I look away just as she looks back up at me.
“So that’s it? A Yankees game and Broadway? I was thinking there might be something more interesting on there.”
She’s needling me on purpose, and I find that I like it. “I’d like to try Korean barbecue,” I say. That gets her attention.
“Oh, I know a great place for that,” she says.
“Seriously? ”
“Seriously. What else?”
“I want to buy a whole duck in Chinatown. I’ve never cooked duck before, but Peking duck is one of Pop’s favorite meals. He always gets it when we order Chinese.”
Von tilts her head, thoughtful. “Peking duck,” she murmurs. “Okay.”
I’m getting more excited as I share this list. I haven’t thought about it in a while. I never had time to do any of the things on it—I barely had time to get into the city to meet Caden for a drink. And even then, he’d always send a car take me to and from Penn Station and I’d go right back to Magnolia Bay.
“I know there’s a driving range somewhere,” I muse.
“Chelsea Piers,” Von says. Her nose wrinkles. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I never imagined Von could be cute. She takes off her sunglasses at last and squints at me. “You play golf?”
“No,” I laugh. “But I like the idea of hitting something out over the Hudson.”
“There’s a net that catches the balls, you know.”
“I know. I meant, like, figuratively.”
She runs her hand down her ponytail again. “Why didn’t you ever do any of this stuff with Caden? I thought you two used to go into the city together.”
I turn away from her to make sure I don’t accidently hit another rowboat.
“Nah, not really. I met him for drinks a couple times but mostly he would come in with your dad, for meetings and stuff, so New York was always business to him, not pleasure. He preferred hanging out at the Screw or going to dinner at Osteria Fortuna. I think he’s always felt more comfortable in Magnolia Bay.”
“Yeah,” Von muses. “I think he has too. Probably why he works so well with Isla.”
“Yup,” I say. “I always knew they were meant to be together. They fit. Charlotte was against it at first.”
Von raises an eyebrow. “Oh really. ”
We’re almost at the opposite shore, and I steer us beneath the long branches of a weeping willow. “She was worried he would behave like the typical billionaire, acting like he was entitled, taking advantage of Isla. She’s really protective of her friends.”
“Right,” Von says. Her mouth turns down the slightest bit, her lower lip pouting out. I get the sense she’s thinking hard about something.
“What?” I ask.
She startles. “What”
“You were making a face.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.”
She pauses then sticks her tongue out at me, like she used to do when we were kids. I laugh and she grins.
“I was just thinking…this is nice,” she says.
“It is,” I say, though my spidey-senses are telling me that’s not really what she was thinking. “No one’s done something like this for me in…well, in a long time.”
“You’re there for everyone,” she says. “All the time, without question. You never take time for yourself.”
I shrug. “I like helping other people.” I didn’t realize she saw me so clearly. “I didn’t have you pegged as the Self Care Queen,” I joke.
She’s undeterred by my attempts to deflect. Probably the lawyer in her. Cutting through my bullshit. “It’s okay to do something just for you once in a while, you know.”
“I know,” I say, but then I start to wonder. I’ve spent my whole life working towards one goal, becoming a cop, helping others. But now what? Even if my name is cleared, what happens next?
I haven’t let myself think past the trial. Even now, my brain skitters away from the future, like ripples across the lake. Von seems to understand. She turns her face away, the sunlight dappling her skin, creating patterns across her cheeks and shoulders.
We drift on the water in silence for a while, as the sounds of the park fill the air around us.