Chapter 43
CHAPTER 43
MIA
Mia had never been a good liar.
Detouring into the kitchen, she grabbed her abandoned Bloody Mary, then finished it in one gulp.
Mia wasn’t the best at deceiving people. She had too many obvious tells. She looked away. Her voice got shaky. Her tone too high. She sounded defensive instead of confident.
Alex knew it, as well, so why did he think she could lie to their friends?
Because she’d done it before. Fifteen years ago, she’d convinced Sarah to go along with Alex’s plan. You need to convince Sarah to stay quiet. And she had. Somehow. Despite being a terrible liar, she’d persuaded Sarah.
“No … you can’t go to the cops,” Mia said to Sarah, the following morning after Phil’s party, when they were sitting on the couch in the small, crappy apartment they could barely afford, even with Grace’s help.
Her face pale, her expression haunted and drawn, Sarah stared at Mia. “But I have to go to the police. Because Phil …”
“I know,” Mia said, taking Sarah’s hand, thinking the gesture might be construed as supportive, and compassionate. Sincere. If she was going to convince Sarah to go along with Alex’s plan, then she needed to be sincere. Sarah had to think that Mia had her best interest at heart.
She couldn’t know the truth.
Sarah couldn’t suspect that Mia couldn’t stand her and wanted to break all the bones in her hand. That Mia wanted to slap her tear-streaked face. That Mia really didn’t give a damn what Phil had done to that bitch.
As far as Mia was concerned, Sarah deserved what happened. She’d slept with Alex. And not just once. Not just at Phil’s party, but multiple times. Mia couldn’t forgive her for that. She wouldn’t.
Exhaling, Mia glanced at the ceiling, frowning at the water stains, thinking about the upstairs neighbors, whose bathtub had overflowed.
“What Phil did to you was horrific,” Mia said, clutching Sarah’s hand, trying to pretend she cared. “And I know you want to go to the cops?—”
“You don’t think I should?” Sarah asked, looking confused.
Mia cleared her throat. “Phil’s family has a lot of money. They are billionaires. His dad is friends with the governor. If you go to the police?— ”
“They won’t believe me,” Sarah said, shaking her head, looking away.
“No, they’ll believe you,” Mia said. “They just won’t care. They won’t bring charges against Phil. They’ll say that you’re lying. That he didn’t?—”
“But he did!” Sarah said, her eyes wild, feral. “Phil Richart … violated me. He can’t get away with that.”
“And he won’t,” Mia said, her heart slamming, forcing herself to focus on what she needed to say, what Alex needed her to do. You have to convince Sarah . “There is a way for you to make sure that Phil gets exactly what he deserves.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Mia said, “You want to make Phil Richart pay for what he did to you, right?”
Nodding, Sarah, wiped the tears from her cheek.
Exhaling, Mia said, “Then you need to make him … pay . And I know how you can do that.”
Walking through the living room, Mia headed for the curving staircase, then jogged up the stairs. She didn’t want to think about the lies she’d told Sarah fifteen years ago. She needed to focus on the lies she’d told today. Had Jason and Chris believed her? She didn’t know. Probably not. But she couldn’t worry about that right now.
Minutes later, in her bedroom, Mia grabbed her phone and sat on the settee at the end of the bed. Time to end all this nonsense about Alex being dead. About his head being cut off. Mia scoffed, thinking of Grace’s wild, ridiculous claims. Maybe it was time to distance herself from Grace. They’d been friends forever, but forever was long enough, right? They didn’t have to spend so much time together.
Mia dialed Alex’s mobile number, then put the phone to her ear.
It would be easy not to return calls, decline invitations to lunch, join another Pilates class, frequent a different spa, or?—
Mia frowned. The ringing in her ear was strangely loud. Almost as though she heard the ringing in stereo, as though it was amplified. Mia moved the phone from her ear and stared at it. Or maybe?—
The ringing was still too loud.
As though … it wasn’t coming from her phone. And yet, when she put the phone to her ear, she still heard ringing. What she didn’t hear was Alex answering his phone. Mia fought the panic sneaking into her as she stood, dropping her phone on the settee.
She could still hear the ringing. Walking around the bedroom, she listened. Where was the ringing coming from? Mia turned in a circle, her gaze resting on the bureau drawers. The wardrobe. The writing desk. The king-sized bed. The bed table. The?—
The bed table.
Mia rushed to the small table positioned on the side of the bed where Alex should have slept last night. On the shelf beneath the table, she saw it …
Alex’s phone.