Chapter 16
Vanessa
Some silences are so heavy they are practically deafening.
The small woman who sat beside Vanessa in the back of the town car had not said a single word since she’d got in. Ms. Voss was an independent counsel, hired by Buchanan and Duff as a consultant to assist with Vanessa’s case.
Vanessa didn’t believe any of it. There was only one person who was being protected in this arrangement, and that was Patrick.
Voss could explain all the technicalities she liked in order to appear independent and unbiased, but there was only one name on the check that paid her fees – Julian Vanderpool.
The silence gave Vanessa time to think.
Time to take in the developments of that day. The arrest, the questioning.
Time to absorb it all, calmly.
Time to plan.
The town car pulled up outside Vanessa’s home, and Voss opened her door and got out.
Vanessa followed, stepping onto the curb beside the lawyer.
As Vanessa stood, she towered over Voss, but in truth she felt much smaller than her diminutive attorney.
Here was someone not to be underestimated.
Voss had a hard, angular face, over-developed calves and muscular body to match the taut features.
She looked like a masonry nail in a red wig.
And Vanessa knew who was swinging the hammer.
Voss spoke softly, but her diamond-cut words were hard.
‘When you meet Flynn tomorrow, you tell him nothing about what we have discussed. He’s an idiot.
He has his beliefs about the justice system and a set of morals he sticks to.
This is his weakness. We are going to exploit that to get the best out of him.
Patrick will ask you what happened in the police station.
You’ll tell him exactly what I told you.
You were arrested, the police have evidence, but we don’t know the precise nature of that evidence yet.
We’ll know more in a couple of days. The trial will be heard quickly.
This will all be over in a few months. Tell him everything will be alright.
You’re going to get acquitted, and then you two can put all of this behind you. Got it?’
Vanessa hesitated, her throat dry and mind reeling. She was shaking, but not from the cold. Voss wasn’t shaking. She stood very still, like a goddamn statue, gazing up at Vanessa.
Then Vanessa nodded, said, ‘I’ve got it.’
After a moment, Voss’s head cocked to the side. It was a strange movement. She never broke eye-contact with Vanessa, and no other part of her body moved. The gesture could have been made by an animatronic puppet. Alien and cold.
‘We discussed this. I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve lied to your husband.
It won’t be the last. Just go and tell him you don’t know what case they have against you, but everything will be alright,’ said Voss, then without another word she got back into the town car and slammed the door shut. The car rolled away.
Vanessa watched it go, unable to see Voss through the tinted windows, but she knew the woman was watching her.
For a few moments, Vanessa stood on the sidewalk, her back to the brownstone home she cherished. Patrick was inside, waiting for her.
She could feel him.
Not like a wife feels her husband. Not like a lover feels their partner. That sense of warmth, of love and security.
She could feel him like a presence in the dark.
As she walked up the steps to the front door, keys in hand, she thought about turning and running. She could leave now. And never have to enter this house again. Never have to see his face again.
The front door opened.
Patrick stood there in a blue shirt, the skin below his eyes swollen, hair tousled, as if he’d just woken from a nap.
‘I heard the car. Are you alright?’
Vanessa stared at him for a moment, unable to say anything.
But then she remembered her role. She remembered what she had to do. Voss’s sharp words ringing in her ears.
‘I’m alright. Everything is going to be alright,’ she said.
He didn’t embrace her. That wasn’t his way. He had not been raised in a home that comforted loved ones, nor a home that understood love at all.
He simply stood aside, beckoning her to come in.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. The door, with its heavy steel plate on the back for security, slammed behind her, making her jump. But to Vanessa, right now, that door wasn’t there to keep people out. It was there to keep her in.
‘What did the lawyers say?’ he asked.
‘She— They said the trial will be fast. It will all be over in a few months and then we can put it all behind us.’
He stepped in close behind her, so that when he spoke his breath was hot on the back of her neck.
‘That’s wonderful news.’
She moved on, through the hallway toward the kitchen.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she drank deeply.
Patrick stood behind her. She’d heard his footsteps on the floor, and sensed his presence coming ever closer.
He was gauging her responses. Trying to get a handle on her demeanor, so he could properly assess where he stood and how this case could affect him.
‘Do you want something to eat?’ he asked.
She put the water bottle on the counter, keeping her back to him. Then she shook her head.
There was something else on his mind. Something he wanted to know. He just hadn’t asked it yet.
‘I need to rest. I need to sleep,’ she said.
‘Of course. Just one thing . . .’ he said.
This is it.
‘Did they mention Molly’s bracelet?’
She spun round, gazed at him. He leaned against the kitchen island, his arms by his side, legs crossed – a casual display, but the keenness in his eyes betrayed his portrayal of casual indifference.
‘What?’ asked Vanessa. ‘What bracelet?’
‘The diamond bracelet she wore. Did they mention it?’
Picking up the water bottle, Vanessa made for the hallway and the stairs.
As she passed him, he grabbed her upper arm, fast, causing her to jolt and spill a little of the water on her blouse.
‘The bracelet. Did they talk about the bracelet?’ he asked again, this time with an edge in his voice.
‘No,’ she said, and then shrugged away, and pulled, but he held on to her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. He stared into her eyes, trying to gauge if she was telling the truth.
Fear is a funny thing. She thought she should be used to it by now.
She had lived with it long enough. Not every day, but somehow it was always there.
It could come from the look in the corner of Patrick’s eye, the way he gripped a coffee cup, the sliver of ice in a single word from his crooked mouth or even from the way he breathed.
He was a severely damaged man. His father had seen to that.
Badly damaged people hurt others.
This is the way of things. This is what Vanessa understood above everything else.
Because she was damaged too.
Vanessa knew fear like she knew her own face. And yet, when it arrived, like right now, it always felt fresh and new – pulsing through her veins, crawling over her skin, licking with a cold tongue on the back of her neck.
Fear, however familiar, was always a stranger.
He let her go.
She turned away quickly, her chest rising and falling faster and faster, as the fear took her in a gentle, icy embrace. She clambered up the stairs.
‘Vanessa,’ he called out. She was moving away from him, fast as she could, and she didn’t want to turn back. Not for anything.
‘Stop!’ he yelled. ‘You and I need to talk.’
‘I don’t want to talk to you. My lawyers said I shouldn’t.’
‘We have to talk. I have things I have to say. Whether you believe it or not, I don’t know. I loved her, Vanessa. And part of me still loves you. There’s something I have to tell you . . .’