Chapter 15 #2
“I spent all day in the middle of a group of about two dozen lawyers and nearly as many police officers and forensic techs,” he tells me as he fills the glasses.
“What? Why?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t be asking,” I tell him, trying to keep my own irritation in check.
“They ruled Joey Carmichael’s death a homicide.”
I want to say, ‘Oh, that,’ only I can’t because I just told him I had no idea what was going on. Instead, I reply with, “And, what? They think someone on your team did it?”
“That’s their working assumption, yes. They believe he was poisoned sometime shortly before the puck drop, while he was in the locker room. And only the team and people who work directly with the players are allowed in there.”
“Well, couldn’t anyone have walked in regardless of whether or not they’re supposed to?” I question as Mark hands me a glass, and I don’t know why. I should just shut up and nod sympathetically.
“No. There are locks on the door.”
“Oh. Well, damn. I’m sorry. That sucks.”
He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter, but then says, “It wouldn’t be such a big deal if we didn’t have a game tomorrow.
But this has everyone looking at everyone else like they might’ve had something to do with it, which isn’t great for morale, and there’s not time to fix it before then.
We had a player not show up for practice today on top of that, so it’s been a crappy day all around.
I’m sorry I snapped at you about your face. ”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t think to mention it to you before you saw it.
That was kind of shitty of me,” I apologize, my voice softening.
I should’ve said something, given his history with his parents.
But it slipped my mind while I was obsessing over my own problems. Katie is wrong.
I am objectively terrible at being in a relationship.
“Thanks.” Mark pauses to take a sip, and something about the way he’s looking at me tells me he’s using the wine to buy time.
Finally, he swallows, seeming to have reached some sort of decision.
“Are you going to keep seeing the patient who hit you in the face today?” he asks, and though his words are neutral, the slight emphasis on ‘today’ at the end of his sentence makes my heart skip a beat.
He doesn’t believe me. Fuck.
My phone vibrates, pulling my attention away from Mark. It’s Vaughn. “Give me a second. I have to take this,” I murmur, relieved to have an excuse to get away from this conversation as I stand and head for the door to the deck.
The wood is cold underfoot when I step outside. Fortunately, it’s not also wet, or my socks would be soaked. “Hey Vaughn,” I answer.
“Hey kid, what’s up?”
“I only have a minute, but two things. First, can you start looking into Brandon Miller?” I ask, keeping my voice low, even though there’s no way Mark should be able to hear me from inside.
“Yeah. Same deal as Davidson?”
“Yes. Daily routine and all that. Anything else you can find out would be great too. The sooner, the better,” I tell him, since I’m feeling like time is running out.
“Alright, what’s the second thing?”
I dig my nails into my palm and force myself to ask the question. “Can you text me Marjorie’s number? I don’t have it, and I’d like to speak to her.”
I’m sitting across from Marjorie in a small bistro near my office. The tables are tiny and made of metal despite being indoors. As far as I can tell, the place is trying to recreate the scene of a Parisian or Milanese sidewalk cafe, and it’s not quite successful.
I called Marjorie after talking to Vaughn last night to ask if she would have lunch with me.
She said she was free today, so here we are.
My actual parents might be absentee, but there’s no shortage of surrogates willing to offer advice.
Although in this instance, Marjorie is a much better sounding board than Jeanette.
“Did you want to talk about me and Vaughn or you and Mark?” Marjorie asks, cutting to the chase after the server has taken our order.
“Both. How much did Vaughn tell you about what I’m doing?” I know he told her something about me and Mark. I just don’t know how much detail he gave her.
“Oh, everything,” she says, waving a hand through the air as if underscoring the sentence. “It’s part of our deal. I think you’re doing the right thing. Well, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“We’ll get to that. What do you know about how Vaughn and I met?” Marjorie asks, her eyes laser-focused on me.
“He said something about a honey trap gone wrong, and that he developed actual feelings for you somewhere along the way. That’s it. But I only found that much out about a month ago.”
“I was in my mid-twenties when we met, and he was in his early-thirties. He and your dad were hoping to use me to gain access to my father’s money.
Only it didn’t quite work out the way it was supposed to.
I got suspicious when Vaughn was a little too perfect.
Liking all the same things I liked. Never disagreeing with me.
It felt like he was blowing smoke up my ass.
A couple of months had passed by the time I called him on it and told him I was breaking up with him.
Imagine my surprise when he told me what was really going on. ”
“And you stayed with him after that? Why?”
“I almost didn’t. Part of me felt betrayed, but that part had to contend with the fact that Vaughn was placing a lot of trust in me by telling me the truth, since the truth could’ve landed him in jail.”
“Yeah well. What I’ve done is a bit more serious than that,” I state.
“So maybe you don’t lead with that part.
” Marjorie shrugs and takes a sip of water.
“Anyway, to answer your question, I liked Vaughn. I’d already developed feelings for him, and his decision to be honest with me, even though it could’ve made things worse for him, made it clear his feelings for me were genuine as well.
I was unwilling to tolerate being lied to, so once that stopped, staying with him wasn’t a difficult decision.
The fact that I didn’t much like my father may have helped matters. ”
“You didn’t feel like your entire relationship was built on a lie?”
“Hmm,” she murmurs, considering it. “No. I don’t believe so. It was simply the circumstances under which we met. He never lied about his feelings for me. And if he hadn’t been trying to use me to con my father, we never would’ve met. Maybe that’s me rationalizing things. Who knows?”
“I’m pretty sure Mark is going to feel like I betrayed him, no matter how I try to frame it.”
“What was your plan going into this?”
I sigh, tapping my fingers lightly against the tabletop.
“I figured I’d date him for a while, use him to get access to the arena and the team, and then break up with him when it was all said and done.
I never thought I’d actually like him. I didn’t expect that I’d get to the end of this and still want to be with him. ”
“But if that happens, he’s definitely going to find out Katie is your cousin,” Marjorie states knowingly, and I nod. “You know Vaughn invited you to dinner last weekend to buy you time to figure out what to do?”
“No. He said it was your idea.”
Marjorie rolls her eyes. “Not that he’ll ever admit it, but that man is a hopeless romantic.
Anyway. You have one of two options. Either you tell him Katie is your cousin and you lied about knowing who he was because of that, or you say nothing, and eventually he finds out on his own.
If you say nothing, and he finds out on his own, he’s going to assume that everything, including your feelings for him, is a lie.
The sooner you tell him the truth, the better he’ll take it. ”
I let out a slow exhale. “I know.”
The server interrupts us long enough to place our entrees on the table and ask if we need anything before disappearing once more.
“He’s going to break up with me either way,” I tell Marjorie as I spear my fork into a tube of penne.
“Maybe. I honestly can’t tell you how he’ll react, or what you should say to him to make him want to stay with you. You’re not Vaughn, and he’s not me. But he likes you as much as you like him. If you tell him who you are now, your odds are probably fifty-fifty.”
“That seems incredibly optimistic,” I mutter darkly.
“What have you got to lose?”
“Aside from him and my access to the three remaining players? Oh, and possibly my freedom? Absolutely nothing.”
“You’re smart. You can figure out another way to get to the others if you need to. And worst-case scenario, let’s assume Mark immediately suspects you’re responsible for the ones who have already died. Can he prove it?”
“No,” I admit.
“Can anyone prove it?”
“Probably not. It’s just that I’m putting my freedom up against a ‘probably’ for a man who might dump me as soon as he finds out Katie is my cousin.”
“Well, I don’t believe you’d be sitting here talking to me about him if some small part of you didn’t think he was worth the risk.” Marjorie takes a bite, mulling something over before saying, “You know Randall was pissed when he found out Vaughn had told me the truth?”
“No, but that tracks.”
“Yes. It does. In a similar position, your dad wouldn’t have told me. He wouldn’t have told anyone the truth. Ever.”
I nod in agreement. She’s not wrong.
“I guess you’ve gotta ask yourself who’s the better role model? Vaughn or Randall?”