The Neighbors Are Watching

Chapter Twenty-Eight

TWENTY-EIGHT

“Protect her from what?” My voice is low, vibrating with suppressed panic.

Miguel shakes his head. “Caren, why did you go to Jo’s? I need to know.”

I choke out a laugh. “You need to know? That’s rich.”

“What made you go to her?” His tone is so out of character, so insistent, that I relent.

“Fine. I’ll go first. Then you. I went over to Jo’s because no one was telling me the truth about that bracelet. I knew in my gut that Rachel was involved somehow, but I didn’t know how. Yumi told me she saw Van breaking into houses—”

“She told you that?”

“Yeah. She said she also saw a girl with him who she thought was Rachel. But then it turned out Rachel was out of town that weekend. I wanted the truth. And then Yumi told us that someone was making regular visits to the house that Tori Price lived in—”

“Whoa, whoa.” He holds his hands up. “Us? Who’s us? And who’s Tori Price?”

“She’s that single mom who lived in the house behind the Allards. The big modern one, where that nanny was killed last year. That was Finn’s closest friend.”

“Caren, sweetie, mi amor.” He comes around the island, arms outstretched. “Baby, you are in over your head.”

I scramble to my feet and step back. “Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not patronizing you. I’m worried about you.”

“I think Jo spiked my drink. That’s what I think. That she saw that bracelet on the Facebook page—”

His eyes widen and he brings his hands together as if in prayer. “Please, dear Lord, please tell me you did not accuse Jo Allard of drugging you.”

“And I think maybe Van killed that girl.”

Miguel pulls out a stool and sits down on it, cradling his face in his hands. “I’m speechless. I don’t even know where to begin.” He looks up at me, pleadingly. “Is this Finn guy putting all these ideas into your head?”

“No. Of course not.”

“I mean, this is some crazy conspiracy-level shit, Caren. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to hang out with him.”

I laugh bitterly. “I’m almost fifty. You can’t tell me who I’m allowed to hang out with.”

“It’s not about allowed. It’s about what’s healthy. I think you should talk to someone.”

“I did talk to someone, Miguel. I talked to Jo. Now it’s your turn. What did she mean that you would explain everything?”

His head jerks up, but he’s looking past me. I turn to see Rachel in the doorway, her long wet hair hanging over her shoulders. “What are you guys fighting about?”

“Nothing, sweetie,” Miguel says. “We’re just talking.”

“Mom?” She looks to me. “I heard you say ‘Van’ when I was coming down the stairs.”

“What else did you hear?” I hold my breath, hoping that she didn’t hear me say I thought Van might have killed that nanny. It was reckless to talk that way with her so close by.

“Nothing. Why?”

I hold out my hand, and she takes a tentative step forward, grasping it. “Honey, I need to know about that bracelet. The gold one with the heart. Where did you get it?”

Her lower lip trembles as she takes a seat at the counter between Miguel and me.

“Van gave it to me,” she says softly.

“Why would Van give you a bracelet?”

Her fingers trace an invisible pattern on the countertop, her eyes fixed downward.

“Rachel, honey?” I lean forward, trying to catch her gaze.

“I don’t know. We kind of were together. Like, for a really short time.” Her shoulders go up and down a little, a tiny shrug that speaks volumes. “He gave me a bunch of stuff. Little things, jewelry, you know.”

“Wait, you were dating Van? When?” I glance at Miguel but I can’t read his face. He doesn’t look as shocked as I feel, but maybe he is just trying to maintain his composure.

“We weren’t dating.” She spits out the word. “We were just hanging out in the same group. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. It wasn’t serious.”

“But serious enough for him to give you a bracelet,” I say. “Did you know it had been stolen?”

“Sort of? Like, he didn’t say it, but yeah, I kind of knew that he had been going into people’s houses and stuff.” She looks up suddenly, her eyes swimming with tears, a plea for understanding written across her face. “Please don’t tell anyone, Mom.”

I sit back down on a stool, letting this wash over me.

The thought of Van getting close to my Rachel sickens me.

I’d heard rumors of him being a player over the years.

He certainly had that swagger. Questions swirl in my mind.

Might this be the drama that seemed to sink her fall of junior year?

All those sleepovers at the Allards’, hanging out with Elo?se—I shudder thinking that it was all just a cover for her to be with Van.

And if I had known at the time that Van was passing along stolen goods to her, I would have lost it.

Gone to the police. Which is exactly why she didn’t tell me.

I’m trying to see her honesty now as a sign of maturity and stymie the urge to call the police and turn in Van this minute.

“I didn’t mean to keep the bracelet, I swear. It was an accident,” she says. “I thought I gave everything back.”

“Did he ask you to?” I can feel my pulse pick up speed, each beat a reminder of how little I know about my daughter’s life.

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Not him, but Elo?se. Last fall. She said her parents had found out what Van had been doing. That’s why they sent him to Europe last August, instead of going to Stanford. He went to this, like, rehab place in Switzerland—”

“I thought he was taking a gap year, helping sail some yacht across the Mediterranean.”

She shakes her head. “That’s just what the Allards told people. They, like, shipped him off against his will. Said they wouldn’t pay for Stanford unless he took a year off.”

“I didn’t realize you and Elo?se were back on speaking terms.”

“We’re not exactly. She showed up in the fall at the courts after practice and kind of, like, ambushed me.

To be fair, I had blocked her. She was a total mess.

You know how she worships Van. How she’d do anything for him.

She was so upset that he was gone. Hysterical upset.

She had this whole fantasy of them going to Stanford together. ”

“And now they are.”

Rachel nods. “True, but at the time, he was gone. Sent away. She told me her parents needed all the stolen stuff back, that otherwise Van could go to jail. And she kind of apologized. I mean, it was more a justification of her actions if you want to know the truth, but at least she admitted she had acted like a bitch.” Her eyes flick to my face. “Sorry.”

I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug. “Oh, honey, I had no idea you were going through all this.”

“It’s so embarrassing.” Her voice breaks, and she lets out a little whimper. “I don’t even think he liked me. He was horrible to me.”

I stiffen. “How so?” I ask, trying to sound calm.

She pulls back from my hug. “At first, he was so nice. He really was. When I would go to Elo?se’s, I’d always end up talking late into the night with Van.

He told me he could talk to me like he couldn’t to anyone else.

I think Elo?se was jealous, actually, ’cause he started to pay so much attention to me. But then he changed.”

“How did he change?”

“I don’t know. I mean, he started pressuring me to, you know. He wanted me to take pictures and send them to him. And videos.”

“Videos of what?” I’m horrified.

She shoots Miguel a little glance, clearly embarrassed. “Like, whatever, you know, me doing stuff.”

“That is awful. I can’t believe that.”

“Why?” Her tone is sharp. “Guys do it all the time. Van does it all the time. Do I have to talk about this?”

“No. You don’t. I’m just glad you ended it.” I squeeze her arm, numbness settling on me.

She laughs bitterly. “That’s the pathetic part. He’s the one who dumped me. Homecoming night there was a small after-party at the Allards’ and Van and me ended up in his room and I didn’t want to do anything and he kept, like, pressuring me and I tried to leave and he wouldn’t let me go.”

My whole body feels rigid with anticipation. Please God, I pray, hoping this story is not going to end up with my daughter assaulted. I feel fury—at Van, at myself for not knowing. “Go on.”

“I actually climbed out the window onto that low roof thing and then climbed down their trellis.”

“You did what?”

“Yeah, I’m not even kidding. He was like, ‘If you want to leave, you have to climb out the window.’ So I did. I was crying. I was actually scared he might hurt me.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Or your dad?” She doesn’t answer, but her eyes flit to Miguel. And then I know. “You did call your dad.”

She nods. “He came and got me.”

“I see.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Don’t be mad, Mom. It was, like, three in the morning. I had been drinking, I was upset and I didn’t want to deal with a lot of questions. Dad came and got me and took me home. It’s not that deep.”

I can see it all in my mind like a movie, a terrified Rachel fending off Van, forced to climb out the window and down a trellis in her homecoming dress.

She must have been confused, humiliated.

And in that moment, she knew that she could count on her father to come rescue her.

I don’t begrudge them their closeness. What mother wouldn’t want her daughter to feel loved and supported by her father?

But it stings, like lemon juice on a paper cut.

“So that’s why you stopped wanting to go to school? Because of what happened with Van? Did he harass you at school?”

“What?” She snorts. “No.” She looks away, biting her lower lip.

“It wasn’t Van. It was Elo?se. She called me a liar when I told her what happened.

Told everyone I was ‘mentally unstable’ and making up stories about her brother because I was in love with him.

Her friends, my friends, started calling me ‘psycho.’ Literally, they’d whisper ‘psycho’ when I walked by.

They’d text me, like, self-harm tests and mental-health screenings, and, like, suicide hotline memes. ”

“That is disgusting. I am so sorry.”

Rachel laughs bitterly. “Yeah, well, whatever. I always knew Elo?se could be like that. I just never thought she would do it to me.”

“Horrible. I am so sorry you had to go through all that.” I wrap my arms around her.

Why didn’t you tell me? I want to scream.

I don’t dare look at Miguel. I can’t process the fact that he’s kept all this from me, not right now anyway.

That’s a cut so deep I fear the pain might swamp me.

I need to focus on Rachel. As much as it is ripping me apart, I have to accept that she didn’t come to me when she was going through all this.

But she’s talking to me now. I cling to that.

“Whatever.” Rachel pushes her hair off her face.

“It’s over. I transferred. And I gave everything back, or I thought I did.

But then, like a month ago, I found the bracelet and I was just so grossed out by the whole thing.

I was like, I do not want this in my life anymore.

I thought about reaching out to her, but honestly, I really don’t want to talk to Elo?se.

So I threw it away. I mean, I should have thrown it away.

But I put it in the donation bag. I didn’t know you would find it.

I’m so sorry.” She catches my eye. “Is Van going to go to jail? Am I going to go to jail?”

“No, you’re not going to jail.” I take her trembling hand in mine. “I’m glad you told me the whole story.” I can’t resist shooting Miguel a pointed look.

“I’m glad too.” She squeezes my hand. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but they agreed that the fewer people who knew, you know, the less likely Van and Noah would get in trouble.”

“Noah?” I suck in my breath. “He was involved too?”

She nods. “I mean, I honestly don’t care what happens to Van.

But Noah? I feel like he just did whatever Van told him to do, even if he didn’t want to.

It’s, like, actually sad. And I didn’t want to see Noah get in trouble.

” Her loyalty to her childhood friend seeps through her words, genuine and touching despite everything.

“Right. That makes sense.” I nod slowly, processing. “Who’s the ‘they’? You said ‘they agreed.’”

“Caren, I think that’s enough for today.” Miguel’s discomfort is palpable but it only makes me want to keep pushing.

“What?” I bristle. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“You know, Van’s parents.” Rachel glances up at Miguel and smiles. “And Dad.”

My half smile freezes in place. “You knew about the stolen jewelry?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice light and pleasant.

“Don’t be mad at him, Mom. Dad was the one who actually arranged it all with Van’s parents. You know, returning everything so I didn’t have to deal with the Allards.” She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, unaware of the earthquake happening inside me. “He was trying to help.”

The betrayal hits me, stealing my breath. Behind Rachel, Miguel clears his throat. “Don’t worry, baby girl. It’s all in the past.”

She swivels her head from parent to parent, checking to see if all is okay in her world.

I keep a small smile plastered on my face, which is enough to soothe her worries.

She gives Miguel a hug and a kiss and then the same for me.

“I love you guys so much,” she says, standing up.

“Like, I truly appreciate you as parents. So many parents would be just awful about this, and you guys are so understanding.”

“You’re a good kid,” Miguel says. “Now go have some fun tonight.”

We sit there as Rachel bounds out of the room, her footsteps thundering up the stairs, leaving a charged silence in her wake.

I turn to face Miguel. “You knew about Van. You knew she was seeing him, and he basically assaulted her? You knew he gave her stolen jewelry, and you’ve known for all this time.

” Each word is as sharp as broken glass.

“When I asked you about it the other day, you told me not to jump to conclusions. But you knew everything.”

“I know this is a shock to the system. I don’t blame you for being upset.

But when you calm down, I think you’ll understand why it happened the way it did.

The important thing is that it’s all in the past now.

Look at how well Rachel is doing, mi amor, focus on that.

” He reaches for me, but I pull back, out of reach.

“Don’t ‘mi amor’ me.” My voice trembles with the effort of keeping it low. “You lied to me, Miguel. Who are you trying to protect now? Rachel, or yourself?”

“This family,” Miguel says, his voice dropping to match my intensity. “I’m trying to protect this family. But you’re making it kind of hard.”