Chapter 22
PAIGE
Paige waits for over an hour for Cora to get home.
She periodically peers out the front window to see if her car appears in the drive and wonders where she is.
When she sees Cora pull around back, she finds it odd.
She pulls on a coat and picks up the box with Finn’s name on it with all of the things she’s collected from him inside it and walks over to Cora’s.
She doesn’t see the lights on inside by the time she reaches the house, so she walks around back.
Cora is standing at the open hatch of her car unloading a bunch of bags.
“You bought diapers?” she asks, and Cora screams and drops the bag in her hand, whipping around in horror.
“Jesus!” She has to lean her hands on her knees to steady herself. “What the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack,” she says, panting for breath.
“Sorry. I saw you drive up. You said Finn was out of town and we should do wine tonight. I was supposed to come over like an hour ago,” Paige says.
“Oh, God. Sorry. His trip got canceled and then I guess I forgot.”
“Anything I should know?” Paige says, eyeing the box of diapers.
“Ha. No, just a charity-drive thing. Come on in. I’ll get this stuff later,” Cora says, quickly closing the hatch and leading Paige inside.
“Wait, if Finn ended up staying home, we can reschedule.”
“Oh, he went out,” she says, and they go inside.
Cora pulls a bottle of white out of the fridge and grabs two glasses.
Paige thinks she seems nervous, like she’s working hard to act normal.
But she still has to do what she came to do.
She watches Cora anxiously move around the kitchen, plugging in her phone, searching for something in the snack cupboard and then finally noticing the box Paige is carrying.
“What’s all that?” she asks.
“Is Mia home?” Paige asks, and Cora looks a bit confused.
“No, she went to a friend’s. What’s up?”
“I have to talk to you about something, and it’s—I don’t really even know where to begin, but you need to know and there’s—”
“What?” Cora cuts her off. “You found something. With Finn, you ended up finding something,” she says, her face draining of color. Paige doesn’t know if that’s the place to begin, but she answers anyway.
“I did. I’m sorry.”
Cora stands, a blank look on her face, pours a glass of wine, and goes to sit on the couch. After a minute, Paige follows.
“There’s a little more to it, and I need you to hear me out.
” She puts the box on the coffee table and takes out the photos.
First the hooker, then the one of Charlotte and Finn close but not too close at the ball, and then the printouts of the emails between them that fill in any gaps the photos don’t show.
Cora looks at them. She picks up the stack of emails and pages through with a numb look in her eye. She doesn’t cry. She sets them down.
“Well, I guess I already knew, didn’t I? Of course he’s cheating.”
“I’m so sorry, Cor,” Paige says.
“Don’t be. You saved me my house and a lot of money. I don’t care anymore. I don’t have any tears left for him. I don’t know how to feel right now,” Cora says, but Paige knows how this goes—she’s just in shock. It hasn’t sunk in fully. She definitely cares.
“I even asked Char to have coffee. I thought we’d be friends,” Cora says, her voice hollow and even.
Then she lets out a short, humorless laugh, takes a sip of her wine, and then goes back to the counter and brings over the bottle.
She stares out the window to the blackness outside and doesn’t speak. Paige has to press on.
“The thing is, the more I followed him and dug into his life, the more I found—and not just this.”
Cora turns back to look at Paige, who is sitting across from her on an armchair.
“What? What else could there possibly be?”
“I’m sorry. Okay, I just—I didn’t tell you what I was doing because I wanted to know for sure. I owe it to Caleb to...”
“Oh, Jesus. Paige. No. Come on. I can’t possibly listen to this right now.
I’m sorry. I’m not—I care, it’s just, we’ve been over everyone in the neighborhood, and if you are gonna tell me that now you are back to suspecting Finn, it’s probably not the best time.
Please. I can’t really take any more today. ”
“I know, but you have the right to know who he really is, and I have proof. And before I go to the police with it, I thought it was only fair to tell you,” Paige says, and Cora sighs and leans back in her chair with her wine.
“He told the police he’d only ever said hello to Caleb at the most, like when you two were over at our house for dinner or something. He said he’d have no reason talk to him or have his number. But Caleb’s number is in his phone records.”
“How in the hell do you have his phone records?”
“I stole his laptop, and I have his passwords,” Paige says, and Cora’s eyes expand and her mouth opens, but no words come out.
“I’m sorry,” Paige continues, “but I had to know. I did want to help you, too, but I just had this nagging...hunch. And then something he said made all the pieces fall into place. I ran into him when I was following him, and we chatted, and I don’t remember what we were even talking about—it was at that bar—but he said ‘Daymmn’ like, instead of just saying damn, he said it in this very distinct way—a far-too-young-for-him, frat-boy sort of way. .. You know what I mean, right?”
“Yes, I do know,” she says, somewhat defensively, Paige thinks, but she’s listening, at least. They’ve both made fun of how annoying he is when he talks like that.
“So I remembered—like, that word hit me—a few days before Caleb died, he was arguing with someone outside. It wasn’t anything extreme, just raised voices.
I thought it was with a friend. I remember hearing that ‘Daymmn’ so distinctly.
It was a short disagreement, and when I looked outside, Caleb was already in his car going wherever, and I saw a guy walking away.
.. He was wearing a UMass ball cap backward.
And you’d say, so what? A ton of kids go to UMass, but this was a ’90s-style cap with the lacrosse sticks crossing the logo, and I still didn’t think anything of it then—like, it didn’t register until I saw him at the bar and he had it on—the same, old-school UMass cap backward. That was him arguing with Caleb.”
“I am not putting together whatever you’re trying to say,” Cora says, but Paige goes on.
“Why would they have reason to talk at all, let alone argue? Finn is a grown man. And twenty-two or not, Caleb is still the neighbors’ kid. He said they never talked, but Finn has called him, there’s records of it, and they argued. Why?” Paige says, becoming more agitated.
Cora seems calmer than Paige thought upon learning this. She puts her wineglass down and leans her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together.
“Look, I think maybe this can be explained,” Cora says.
“Please, explain it, then.” Paige crosses her arms and waits.
“Mia told me something earlier that I didn’t know, that Finn bought pot from Caleb. Maybe that’s why they talked. I mean, that has to be it. I don’t think it’s more sinister than that.”
“What? No. I don’t accept that. Caleb wouldn’t do that—he was on the dean’s list. He was.
.. You know what, then why did Finn lie over something like pot when the police were talking to everyone?
We’re talking about murder, and he’d lie and risk getting caught looking really suspicious over.
..pot?” Paige says, knowing Cora hates it when she says murder because the police have ruled it an accident.
“I’m sure he didn’t think he’d be investigated for anyone to unpack it any further, so he probably just covered his ass without thinking,” Cora says.
“Why are you defending him? After what I just showed you, it’s hard to understand how you’re not at least entertaining that he might be someone with secrets,” she says.
“Okay,” Cora says. “Is that all there is?”
“No,” Paige says.
“So, what, then?”
“Well,” Paige continues, “it’s funny how Finn is in cyber security and knows a thing or two about surveillance, and the cameras at the entrance to the community weren’t working.”
“They weren’t working for weeks. The HOA sent a notice,” Cora says, but Paige goes on.
“He got his car fixed the day after the hit-and-run. I stole his files. There’s an invoice,” Paige says, handing Cora a copy. “Front-bumper damage,” she points out. Again, Cora doesn’t look shocked the way Paige expected.
“Paige. God, I can see how you think—No, Mia hit a pole in the Trader Joe’s parking lot that weekend. That’s all this was. I think you’re—”
“Yeah, I remember you telling me that. But is she telling the truth?”
“Really?” Cora says. “You don’t think you’re taking this too far now?”
“She has one of those kids’ debit cards where you guys can monitor the account and put money in.
It’s called Greenlight, right? Well, the next day, five hundred dollars is transferred into her Greenlight account.
Did you give her that much money for anything?
” Paige asks, and for the first time, Cora looks horrified.
“Oh, my God.” She takes the printout, and Paige knows she cannot believe the intrusion into her personal life even though it was about Finn and not her, but what she’s looking at is suddenly too disturbing for her to worry about that now.
“I didn’t know about this.”
“Is it possible he wanted her to take the fall for the car and he paid her off? And I’m not saying Mia knew anything, of course...”
“Of course not, she was out on a date that night. I...”
“Right, but maybe it was a way Finn could cover up the repair. He could use Mia without her even knowing. Look.” She hands her Finn’s day planner.
“Jesus, Paige. How the fuck did you get all of this stuff?”
“Just look. January 17. It says Drinks with C. I thought it was Charlotte, so I met with her, but she was out of town that weekend. I think it was Caleb.”
“But why? Why would he have any reason to—I need a minute. This is nuts. Why?”
“Here’s why. Here’s the whole goddamn thing.
Caleb saw Finn getting a blow job in his car down somewhere at the edge of the neighborhood.
He must have told Finn he knew about it, and Finn must have tried to pay him to keep him quiet like he did to Mia.
Caleb received a thousand dollars through Venmo the day before he died.
We never knew from who. The police think it was an accident.
They never investigated this. Guess where it came from? ” Paige says.
“No, please. Oh, my God,” Cora says, burying her head in her hands as Paige smacks down another page of Finn’s bank records. Cora stands. She waves her hand in front of her face and tries to catch her breath.
“If I take this to the police, it’s more than enough for an arrest. Look what Finn had to lose if he were caught...”
“I know,” Cora practically whispers. “I just can’t take any more. I can’t hear one more thing. Jesus Christ!”
“Okay,” Paige says, packing the things back into her box.
Cora walks to her wineglass on the coffee table and downs her drink in one long gulp and then walks over and looks out the French doors to the backyard.
After several minutes, she says, “Let me talk to him before you report all this. I need to hear it from him, to see if he’s lying. ”
Paige doesn’t want to say that she’s been pretty lousy for a long time at telling when he’s lying.
“Of course,” she says instead. “Ask him about his alibi. He says he got home at ten that night, and you couldn’t verify it because you were asleep, but he was out for drinks with Lucas Kinney, and his wife confirms Lucas was home at that time.
Seems like she’ll say whatever he wants, so maybe talk to her,” Paige says, and after a couple minutes, Cora turns.
“Did you do all this spying on everyone, or just Finn?” she asks, and Paige isn’t sure why that matters, considering. Cora knows she spies on everyone, but not to what extent.
“I just kept finding more on him, so I stopped needing to look at other people.”
“What about Lucas Kinney? He was with Finn that night. What if he’s involved? Did you go to these lengths to look at him?”
“Sort of. For a while. I dropped a recording device in his briefcase last month but I couldn’t retrieve it again.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t easy with this fucker either.
I had to follow him to work and spend half the day in the cafeteria hoping he’d eat there for lunch, which he did not.
But he did go to the Starbucks, and I had to cut in line to get behind him and drop it in.
I had a whole spiel ready about what a coincidence it was seeing him here and how my CPA’s office is on the sixth floor, but he didn’t even notice me.
Shocker, right? That guy’s so in his own creepy world. ”
“Jesus,” Cora says.
“I got a little dirt on a lot of people, but he was harder because he’s so private and closed off. It’s not easy unless you get close to a person and have a place to start, so nothing really.”
“If you could get that recording device back, could you still recover what’s on it?” Cora asks.
“Yeah, but I don’t think I need it anymore. You think...what? That he was involved, too?”
“I don’t know what I think. I just need a little time.
” Cora looks out the window again. She looks small and ghostly, like someone who’s lost everything in a matter of moments, which is exactly what she is.
The seething anger Paige came into this with is making way for something else: absolute heartbreak for Cora.
“I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry I lied to you, but this was the only way.”
“No,” Cora says sharply, and Paige is taken aback a moment. Then Cora turns to her. “You’re not the one who needs to be sorry.” Cora embraces Paige and lets the tears flow as she holds on to her friend.