I took a bite of pancakes. He made it sound so easy. You asked for help, and someone gave it to you. But that wasn’t the way the world worked, was it? Cormac and Renee had made it clear that we had to stick together, that we could only count on each other. Listening to Scotty, I suddenly wondered if it had been another lie. Another way to keep Parker and me under their thumb, to make sure we needed them.
I finished my breakfast and met Marcus in the living room. We started where we’d left off, with the job in Baltimore, and continued all the way through the Fairchild con. When we got to what happened afterward, to Renee’s betrayal and my flight to Seattle with Cormac, Marcus leaned forward. His questions got more intense, more pointed, his fingers tapping furiously on his keyboard as he made note of everything I said. When I was done, he sat back and shook his head.
“I know. It was a mess,” I said. “Everything that could go wrong did.”
“That wasn’t just bad luck,” he said. “Cormac was sloppy. He should have known better.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “What did he do wrong?”
“What didn’t he do wrong?” Marcus laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Let’s set aside the fact that he used two kids to help him.” I winced. “He went into the Fairchild house not even knowing for sure that the gold was in the carriage house.”
“But it was,” I said.
“He didn’t know that, and that’s Grifting 101. You don’t put yourself at risk—and you don’t put the people you care about at risk—for a take you don’t know is there.” He sighed. “And the vandalism at Allied? Sloppy. He played Russian roulette with Parker’s freedom, and Parker lost, not to mention the guard Cormac killed.”
I had to swallow the acid that rose in my throat. I knew Cormac had killed that guard, but I’d never said it out loud. Never heard someone else say it out loud.
Marcus went on. “That’s Cormac: never patient, always greedy.”
I thought of Cormac’s rush to get the gold, the insistence by him and Renee that it had to be that weekend, even though Logan wasn’t leaving town with his parents. Even though it meant I had to drug Logan to give us enough time to get in and out undetected.
“Anyway, that will work in our favor now,” Marcus said.
“How?”
“If he was sloppy on the job when he had resources available, he’ll be even more sloppy now that he’s on the run with hardly any money. He won’t starve—Cormac will always be able to feed himself—but he won’t have the luxury of hiding in an ivory tower either.”
It was an entirely new take on Cormac. He’d seemed invincible when we’d been together, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“I’m going to put feelers out with some people I know, see if Cormac has reared his head in any of the usual spots.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing yet,” Marcus said. “I need to process this information before I know which direction to run. You should rest, keep thinking about anything from Seattle that might help us. And think about Renee, too. My hunch is that she’s long gone, but you never know. She may not have been able to get out. The police lowered the boom pretty fast.”
For the first time, I considered the possibility that Renee hadn’t been able to leave the country like we’d planned. I don’t know why the idea bothered me so much.
Twenty-Three
I stayed for a late lunch, grateful Scotty gave me an excuse by insisting that he wasn’t sending me home without a full stomach. I was already getting used to the comfort of them. To the cushy sofas and framed photographs, the Buddha statues that were secreted in little nooks throughout the house, the hint of incense hanging underneath whatever Scotty was cooking in the kitchen.
And I was getting used to Scotty and Marcus, too. Scotty always had a smile and had taken to touching me gently on the arm and calling me “honey” when I was upset or nervous. He was practical and efficient, the perfect foil for Marcus, whose gruff demeanor was laced with a kind of calm, a kind of acceptance, that seemed to transfer to me when we were together.
By the time Marcus drove me home, it was after three and rain was falling from the sky in sheets, bouncing against the pavement and pummeling a drumbeat against the Range Rover’s roof. He pulled over to the side of the road and reached into the backseat.
“Here,” he said, handing me an umbrella. “You can bring it back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I thought we were done for a few days.”
He looked lazily my way. “Listen, kid, my feelings won’t be hurt if you have somewhere more exciting to be, but if you’d like a little company and a couple good meals, we’re happy to have you.”
I smiled a little. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll stop by, then.”
He nodded. “I’ll contact you if I come up with anything on Cormac in the meantime.”
I put my hand on the door and turned back to him. “Thanks, Marcus. For everything.”
I opened the door and extended the umbrella before stepping out into the rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, water streaming like a river down the gutters. My shoes and socks were soaked before I even crossed the street, and I hurried across the pavement, smiling to myself when I saw Marcus’s SUV still idling at the curb as I turned the corner.
It was almost three thirty when I reached Selena’s yard, and I was relieved to see that the Cadillac driven by her father wasn’t in the driveway. Seduced by the comfort of Scotty and Marcus’s house, I was pushing my return to the pool house every day. It was a dangerous game, and I silently chided myself for the recklessness, promising myself that I would be more careful.
I made my way down the path leading to the yard, retracting the umbrella as I stepped under the semi-shelter of the trees. I opened the door to the pool house and had just stepped inside when I heard the voice behind me.
“It’s you.”
I froze, the blood racing through my veins, my mind denying the voice even as my heart knew exactly who it was. I turned around slowly.
“Logan.” The sight of him took my breath away. He stood a few feet from the door, the rain plastering his hair to his head. His cheeks were hollowed out, even gaunt, and there were shadows under his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here, Grace?” He shouted it, and I knew instinctively that it wasn’t just to be heard over the rain. That the sight of me had conjured up some kind of rage, had unmoored him in some way. I listened with horror as a sob stuck in his throat. “Why did you come back?”
I could only shake my head, not sure where to begin. Not sure how to begin. I stepped back, opening the door a little wider. “Come in, Logan. You’re getting soaked.”
He stared at me for a minute before swiping at his cheeks—was it tears or rain that streamed down his face?—and stepping through the door.
I closed it and turned to look at him. He was breathing hard, like talking to me, seeing me, required physical effort. I drank him in: the mossy-brown eyes that had once held a warmth meant only for me, the lips that had touched mine so gently. It was true that he had changed, that his face looked harder, his eyes shaded with pain that shook me to my core. But he was still Logan, and at that moment I didn’t even care about the police, about the fact that Logan knew where I was, that someone else might know, too.
“Why did you do it?”
I’d done so many things, so very many things, that I wasn’t sure what he meant. Why did I steal from his father? Why did I betray him? Lie to him? Drug him?
“It’s . . . complicated.” I hated myself for saying it. It was so trite, and I hurried to say something better, something that would explain the position I’d been in. “I told you the truth about Cormac and Renee. They adopted me, but there was more. They wanted Parker and me to help them . . . to help them steal from people.”
He shook his head. “Did they threaten you, Grace? Did they force you to hook up with me? To act like you cared?”
“I did care; I—”
“Did they force you?” he shouted. But I knew that he already had the answer. Knew it from the way he looked at me. Like he didn’t know me at all. Like he never had.
I swallowed the emotion that was lodged in my throat and shook my head. “No.”
“Then don’t ask me to feel sorry for you.”
“I would never ask that, Logan.”
“You . . .” His eyes bore into mine. “Do you know what you did to my father? To my family? Do you know what you did to me, Grace?” I nodded, but I knew it wasn’t true. Not really. “Is that even your name?”
“It is,” I said. “The Grace part, anyway.”
His shoulders sagged, an expression of defeat passing over his features. “What are you doing here?”
My mouth had gone dry, and I had to dig for the words to answer his question. “I’m trying to make it right. To give the police information that will help them get Cormac and Renee.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re working with the police?”
“Not . . . not exactly,” I said. He sighed and started to shake his head, like it was just another lie. I didn’t want to get Detective Castillo in trouble, but I couldn’t stand for Logan to look at me that way either. “I’m going to find Cormac, track him down, and give the information to the police.”
“I thought you were with them,” he said. “With Cormac and Renee. Or whatever their names are.”
“I was with Cormac for a while. I don’t know where Renee is. I don’t know where either of them is now, not for sure. But I’m going to find out, about Cormac at least.” Water was dripping from his hair onto his jacket, and I walked over to the armoire and pulled out a clean towel. I extended a hand to give it to him, and he stared at it for a few seconds before taking it. “Then I’m going to tell the police.”
He laughed, bitter and sharp-edged. It didn’t sound like him at all. “Now I get it. You want to help Parker. You’re going to trade Cormac for him.”
My face was hot with shame. “He’s just like me, Logan. We were both adopted by Cormac and Renee, both . . . pressured into doing what we did. He doesn’t deserve to take the fall for all of us.” I hesitated. Seeing Logan threw me, and I struggled to find the right words. “But I want to make it right, too. I want Cormac and Renee to pay for what they—for what we—did to your family. I’m willing to pay, too. As soon as I have the information I need, I’m going to turn myself in.”
His eyes bored into mine, seeing all of me, just like always. Except this time, I didn’t have any secrets. For better or worse, I was laid bare.
“And I’m just supposed to believe you?” he said.
I looked down at my feet. “It’s the truth. I’m going to make it right. I might even be able to get your dad’s money back.”
He took a step toward me, and when I looked up, his eyes were brimming with so much loss, so much disappointment, that I felt it like a knife to the heart.
“Is that what you think this is about? Money? You don’t get it, do you? We don’t care about the money. You took something from my dad, from my family. Do you really think giving his money back will make it all right? That he’ll be better, just like that?” He was crying now, and I felt tears slip from my own eyes. “It’s not that simple, Grace. He’s sick. And that’s not totally your fault. He’s been sick for a long time. But he was feeling good. He was feeling safe. That’s what you stole from him. From all of us.”
“I’m sorry, Logan. I’m so, so sorry. If you just . . . give me a little time here, time to find Cormac and bring him to the police, then he’ll pay for what happened, and I’ll turn myself in, I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Grace. I can’t. I just can’t.” He threw the towel on the floor and walked out.
I don’t know how long I stood there, staring through the open door at the rain falling from the sky, before I grabbed my backpack and ran.
Twenty-Four
“Grace! What happened . . . ?” Scotty stared at me from inside the house.
I opened my mouth as a sob broke free from my throat, but I couldn’t seem to get the words out.
“You’re soaking wet!” He pulled me into the house and shut the door. Then his arm, strong and solid, was around my shoulders as he led me into the living room. “Stay right here. I’m going to get you a towel.”
I looked down at the water streaming from my clothes and hair onto the expensive rug. “I’m . . . I’m wet. I’ll get everything wet.”
He put his hands on my shoulders and pressed me gently onto the sofa. Then he bent in front of me and looked into my eyes. “I don’t care about that. Just stay here.”
I sat on the couch and waited. My teeth clacked together, although I couldn’t say whether it was from the rain or some kind of shock. Logan’s face was imprinted on my mind, tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks, the look of complete and total loss in his eyes.
“Here, honey.” Scotty handed me a fluffy white towel and sat next to me on the couch. “Dry off. I have some tea steeping for you in the kitchen.”
“Th-thank you,” I said, still shivering. I blotted my hair with the towel and then draped it over my shoulders. “I’m sorry about the sofa. And the carpet.”
He shook his head, but when I searched his eyes for annoyance, I saw only concern. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I started to try, and then it hit me: Logan knew I was in Playa Hermosa, knew I had been staying in Selena’s pool house. I was compromised, which meant Scotty and Marcus were compromised, and Selena, too.
I bent forward at the waist, a low moan escaping my lips. “Oh no . . . Oh God . . .”
Scotty grabbed my arm, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re scaring me, Grace. What’s going on?”
“We have to get out of here,” I gasped, barely able to speak the words around my fear. “Logan knows. He knows I’m here. He found me at the pool house.”
Scotty looked into my eyes. “Tell me everything.”
I skipped over the parts that caused me the most shame—the parts about ruining Logan’s family, about being a liar and making excuses for myself. Scotty probably knew that stuff anyway, but I couldn’t bear to say any of it out loud. I took deep breaths as I went, trying to keep myself calm.
When I was done, Scotty patted my knee and told me he’d be right back. He returned with a steaming cup of tea. “Drink this,” he said. “It’ll warm you up.”
I looked at him. “Didn’t you hear what I said? We have to get out of here.”
“Did you tell Selena—or anyone else—about Marcus and me?” Scotty asked. He wasn’t angry like I expected. In fact, he was perfectly calm, his voice low and gentle.
“No, but we can’t take the chance,” I said, my voice bordering on hysterical. “I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you and Marcus because of me.”
He put an arm around my shoulder and gave me a little squeeze. “Nothing’s going to happen to Marcus and me. It’s a free country. Even if Logan turns you in, they’re not going door to door to see if anyone’s hiding you. And Marcus and I have covered ourselves. We’re just private citizens—a retired cop and his partner living off an old inheritance and its interest.”
“What do you mean ‘if’?” I asked. “Logan basically said that he was going to the police.”
“People say things when they’re hurt. He might change his mind.” He hesitated. “How did he find you? Did Selena give you up?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Selena wouldn’t do that to me. I just . . . I know she wouldn’t. And Logan seemed almost surprised. Like he hadn’t really expected to find me there.”
“Then how did he find you?” Scotty asked. “If there’s a breach somewhere, we need to find it and plug it.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “But I can’t go back to Selena’s.”
He patted my shoulder and stood. “You’ll stay with us. You’ll feel better after some dry clothes and a nic
e, long rest. Everything always looks better after a good sleep.”
I looked up at him. “What about Marcus?” A coil of fear unwound in my stomach. If Marcus was anything like Cormac, there would be hell to pay for the breach, even if it hadn’t been my fault. And it had, because if I hadn’t insisted on staying at Selena’s, Logan probably wouldn’t have found me. “He’s going to be so pissed.”
“Let me handle Marcus,” Scotty said. “He’s out right now, but everything will be fine, I promise.”
I wanted to believe him, but I knew it wasn’t that easy. Things weren’t always okay just because someone said they would be. Sometimes everything unraveled despite everyone’s best efforts. Despite my own. Then again, sometimes you didn’t have a choice except to believe. Sometimes not believing would open up a well of despair so deep and so dark that you might never find your way back from it.
“Come on,” Scotty said, holding out a hand.
Twenty-Five
The light was gray when I woke up in the guest room. I lay in bed for a few minutes, my eyes traveling the walls, a pale green almost the exact same shade as the foamy water that rushed around my feet at the Cove.
The room was large and comfortable, outfitted with a writing desk near the window, a large armoire, and a dresser with a mirror. There was a watercolor on the wall: a half-open lotus flower, its petals silken violet. All of it looked old and well-worn. It gave me a strange kind of comfort, imagining someone else opening the dresser drawers, sitting down at the desk to write a letter, waking up to the lotus.
A wind chime rang soft and low from the backyard, and the drapes billowed on either side of the slightly open window. The breeze passed over my face like a gentle hand. Next to the dresser was a door that I knew led to a private bathroom. I had changed into dry clothes there before texting Selena and dropping onto the pillowy queen-size mattress. I’d fallen asleep almost instantly.