“It’s nothing big,” Scotty explained. “I just thought it might be nice for you to have a place to write down your thoughts. I do it myself from time to time. I think the reader-writer thing is kind of connected, and since you’re a reader, too . . .”
I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t just the journal that choked me up—it was permission to leave proof that I was real.
I looked up at him. “Thank you, Scotty. Really. I love it.”
“Good!” His expression grew serious again. “I want you to know something, Grace: Marcus and I are going to see you through this. If you look and don’t see me, I’m probably buying a smoothie, okay?”
I nodded, embarrassed at the tears leaking from my eyes. “Thanks.”
“Whew!” he said, standing. “I think what really happened is that you almost fainted from hunger! I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
We were heading for a little bistro in the mall when my cell phone buzzed. My heart stuttered when I saw that it was a text from Selena. I wasn’t sure I was ready for news about Logan, about what he was going to do with the knowledge that I was in Playa Hermosa.
I looked at my phone.
Talked to Logan. He’ll give you until Parker’s trial date to find Cormac. If you don’t do it by then, he’s going to turn you in.
And then: I’m sorry. It’s the best I could do.
I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and texted back: You’re sorry? You saved my life. Literally. Thank you.
I put the phone back in my bag and looked at Scotty. “Logan’s giving me until June twenty-ninth, Parker’s trial date, to turn Cormac in.”
“That’s great news!” Scotty said. “See? Sometimes you just have to have a little faith that the universe knows what it’s doing, even if it doesn’t always make sense when we’re in the middle of it.”
I nodded, forcing a smile. I knew I should be happy. Logan wouldn’t turn me in. At least not right away. What more had I expected? That he would suddenly forgive me? That he would want to see me again? I had no right to expect any of that.
On the way home, we stopped at a bookstore called Pages in Manhattan Beach. I sat on the floor, checking out the backs of books, opening them up to random chapters and reading a few paragraphs the way I’d always liked to do. I felt wrapped in warmth, safely ensconced in a cocoon of books with Scotty nearby. We’d been there an hour when Scotty insisted I pick out a couple to take home with me.
“Marcus will be busy with his part of the work for a few days,” he said. “You’ll need something to do. Besides watch bad TV with me, I mean.”
I reluctantly handed over two books. Scotty paid and we headed back up PCH toward the peninsula and a place that was rapidly beginning to feel like home.
Twenty-Seven
I spent the next ten days reading and sleeping, taking breaks to help Scotty cook or to sit on the big sofa in the living room and watch TV with him. A couple of times I walked in on him facing the wall and sitting in the lotus position on the cushion in the living room. A coil of smoke rose from the incense burner at his side, the scent of sandalwood stronger than normal. I knew he was meditating, and I walked quietly out of the room without saying anything.
Marcus locked himself in his office for hours, appearing in the kitchen only for meals and refills on his coffee. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I knew it had something to do with the leads I’d provided about Cormac’s whereabouts. I heard his voice, muffled through the closed door on the second floor, at all hours of the day and night, and I assumed he was on the phone.
After a few practice runs, I got the hang of feeding the birds, and Marcus let me take over. I’d come to like the morning ritual, and every two or three days I’d take my juice outside, grab the nectar and seed from the big container, and make the rounds. Then I’d sit at the table on the deck and watch the birds flock to the feeders. There were a few that only showed up sporadically, but also three parrots and two hummingbirds that were there every morning. The parrots looked a lot alike, but Marcus was right: it didn’t take long to start telling them apart. There was the one with yellow rings around its eyes (it never bothered me, but Marcus hadn’t been kidding: it liked to torture Scotty), and another with a green body, its head covered in bright red feathers that continued partway down its back like a cloak. The shiest of the bunch was almost entirely green, the edges of its wings barely touched with blue. The hummingbirds were unique, too: one of them had a chest of brilliant violet, and the other one was covered in iridescent feathers that made me think of Playa Hermosa’s peacocks. Their wings beat so fast sometimes that they seemed to be hovering in midair. It felt good to take care of something else, to do something without expecting anything in return, even if it was only for the birds that populated Marcus’s lush backyard.
Marcus didn’t cook unless it involved slapping meat on the grill, so when Scotty didn’t feel like making dinner, we’d order takeout pizza or Thai from the Town Center. Still nervous about being recognized, I never went with Marcus or Scotty to pick it up. I slept more than I thought possible, and often at odd hours of the day. I’d doze on the couch, still clutching my book after breakfast. I’d go to my room to read after lunch and wake up hours later to the sounds of Scotty in the kitchen starting dinner. Once I even fell asleep sitting on the deck, a soft sea breeze blowing in off the water, the crashing of waves against the cliffs below mingling with the chirping of the birds in a kind of lullaby. Scotty waved away my apologies, and after a while, I stopped feeling like I had to offer them.
About a week after my trip to the mall with Scotty, Selena texted me to say she was going to visit Parker. I was nervous about meeting in person to discuss it, but I wanted to see her, and I wasn’t crazy about the idea of leaving the details of her meeting with Parker up to chance. She wasn’t used to being careful, and I didn’t want her to give away the fact that I was in town in case anyone was listening in on the visit. Plus, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for information on Logan.
Scotty’s eyes shaded with worry when I told him I was going to meet Selena at the cliffs. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. He was standing in the dining room with a spouted metal can in his hand, watering the plants that were scattered around the house. “What about that detective, Fletcher?”
“I can’t stay locked up all the time,” I said. “I’m getting cabin fever. Besides, I need to give Selena tips for talking to Parker, ways she can let him know I’m trying to get him out without actually saying that I’m in town,” I said. “Plus, she’s doing this for me. I want to thank her in person.”
“How do you know she’ll come alone?” he asked.
Was it naive to be sure that she would? I didn’t think so. I trusted her, for better or worse. “I just do. She could have turned me in a long time ago.”
There was a long pause, and I knew Scotty was thinking, weighing my arguments. “Okay, but I’m going to drive you. That way I can make sure the coast is clear while you meet.”
I didn’t like the idea of Scotty waiting like a sitting duck. I trusted Selena, but trusting her with my safety was totally different than trusting her with Scotty’s, who would be charged with aiding and abetting a criminal—or something like that—if anyone found out he and Marcus were helping me.
“I don’t know. . . .”
“Grace, I’m going.” His tone told me there was no point arguing. “I’ll wait in the car on the road. I just want to make sure she’s alone.”
I hesitated, trying to come up with another argument. Finally, I nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am. When are you meeting her?”
“Tonight at seven thirty at the cliffs.” I didn’t tell him that Selena said couples went there at night to make out, which is why we’d decided to meet between the sunset and postparty hours.
He nodded. “We’ll leave at seven.”
Twenty-Eight
“Are you nervous?” Scotty asked as we wound
our way up the peninsula later that night, following the directions Selena had texted me.
“Kind of,” I said. “But only because I want to know about Parker.” I looked out the window, the ocean stretching to infinity under the sun, setting in soft shades of orange and pink. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen him.”
“You love him,” Scotty said. “And he must love you very much, too. Otherwise he’d be cooperating with the DA. Maybe that’s the good thing.”
I glanced over at him. “What good thing?”
He slowed down and pulled into a turnout at the side of the road. “I don’t know . . . I always feel like something good comes out of everything, even the shitty stuff. Maybe it’s because I believe in some kind of underlying order to chaos. Either that or I’m just naive. But maybe you and Parker finding each other is the one good thing that came from your time with Cormac and Renee.” He turned off the car and reached for his door. “Let’s take a look before Selena gets here.”
We ducked under a cut piece of chain-link fence. It was just like the one Parker and I had used to access another stretch of cliff one misty November morning when we’d finally reached a truce about the Fairchild job. Parker had wanted me to leave with him, to bail on Cormac and Renee and start over somewhere. But I had refused, using the fact that we were family as an excuse to stay together even while we lied and stole from good people, even while we were coming undone at the seams. Now Parker was in prison, and I wished I could go back to that day. Wished I could change my mind, agree to leave with him then and there. If I had, Logan’s dad would still be okay, and Parker would be free.
I sometimes forgot that Scotty had been a cop, but I saw it in him as we stepped over the dry brush leading to the edge of the cliff. His eyes were watchful, and there was a practiced caution to his steps, like he was prepared for someone to jump out at us but didn’t want to scare me by letting me know he expected it.
It took less than five minutes to reach the edge. Far beyond it, the water was calm. There were hardly any whitecaps, but waves still crashed against the base of the cliffs, the solid wall of rock breaking up their momentum, sending them back out to sea. The wind blew hard and fast, forcing the long grass sideways and sneaking up into my jacket, billowing and snapping with the force of it.
We scanned the overgrown brush for signs of disturbance. When we didn’t find any, Scotty stepped closer to the ledge, peering over it, trying to look casual when I knew he was looking for some kind of tactical SWAT team that might be suspended from the cliffs, lying in wait for me. I was almost flattered. As scared as I was of being caught, of being put in jail before I could help Parker, I didn’t think I was important enough for the police to deploy cliff-climbing, gun-toting badasses to come after me. Then again, Scotty was the expert.
“Looks good,” he finally said, stepping back from the edge. His face was hard and too still, almost unrecognizable from the Scotty I was used to, the one who cooked and watered plants and chided Marcus for drinking straight out of the orange juice container. “I’m going to double back a bit, park on the road so I can keep an eye on everyone who’s coming and going.” He met my eyes. “If anything looks out of line, I’ll come running. Otherwise, text me when you’re done.”
I could only nod as he gave me a quick squeeze good-bye. I watched him go, his words echoing through my mind: If anything looks out of line, I’ll come running. It was the complete opposite of Cormac and Renee’s strategy, where if you got caught, you were on your own, instructed not to out the family; you were prepared for the fact—not the possibility, the fact—that no one was coming to help you. Scotty was willing to put the spotlight on himself, to risk the anonymity he and Marcus had built, to help me. I wasn’t really sure what to do with that.
About five minutes after Scotty left, I heard the sound of dirt crunching behind me. When I turned around, I spotted Selena making her way across the brush. Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail that whipped around her face in the wind, and I recognized the slouchy sweater wrapped tightly around her body as one that had belonged to her mother.
“Hey,” she said when she reached me.
“Hey.”
She gazed at the water below us. “It’s windy.”
I nodded.
“Want to sit?” she asked.
I looked around, but she seemed to be alone, and even from a distance, I felt Scotty’s presence, a life raft in the tumultuous sea of my life. I sat down and Selena dropped to the ground next to me. She tucked her knees up under the sweater and hugged them to her chest.
“I’m sorry about Logan. If I’d known, I would have warned you.”
“It’s not your fault. You gave me a place to stay, and I appreciate that.” I sighed, trying to banish the memory of Logan crying, the sobs that broke free from his throat and the pain in his voice when he asked me if I knew what I’d done to his family. “I just don’t get how he was even suspicious.”
Selena looked away. “Logan and I have gotten . . . close since you left.” I leaned away from her instinctively, my mind reeling, and she hurried to clarify. “Not like that! It’s just . . . we were the closest to you. Everyone else—Olivia, Harper, Liam, David, Raj—they were surprised, maybe even a little hurt, but . . .”
She trailed off, and I filled in the blanks. “But not like you and Logan.”
She nodded. “It was hard. No one wanted to talk about it, especially after Logan’s dad was checked into Shady Acres. I think they were afraid that it would upset Logan. But he needed to talk about it, and so did I. So we became friends. Really great friends. He was there for me when I was lost, and I like to think I was there for him, too.” She shook her head. “Anyway, we know each other pretty well now. In fact, I’d say he knows me better than anyone ever has, except maybe you.” She gave me a sad smile.
“So he just . . . had a feeling?” I asked.
“He said I was acting weird, hurrying to get home, spacing out at lunch. . . . Then we were in the library studying for the government final, and I had to go to the bathroom. He looked at my computer and saw that I’d been researching visitation procedures for LA County Jail.” She shrugged. “He took a guess. And he apologized for snooping, but I couldn’t be mad. We weren’t supposed to have secrets. After everything that happened, it was the one rule of our friendship. And I broke it.”
“Because of me,” I said angrily, pulling at the grass under my fingertips, throwing it to the wind.
“Not everything is your fault, Grace,” she said. “I made a choice. And even though Logan was upset, I’d do it again. You needed help. I’m glad I could give it to you, even if it didn’t work out.”
“Are you guys okay?” I asked. “Is he still pissed at you?”
She sighed. “Yes and no. He’s upset, but I really think it’s just leftover hurt. He understands why I would want to help you. Why I still care about you.”
I wasn’t prepared for the admission, and I suddenly didn’t want it. Selena still cared about me because that was what Cormac and Renee had taught us: to bond with people under false circumstances, to get them to attach to us in ways that would make them loyal when normal people would question and doubt. The fact that Selena had risked her friendship with Logan to help me was just more evidence that I had been too good at my job. I stood up, suddenly angry under the weight of Selena’s caring. “Well, you shouldn’t.”
“I can’t help it, Grace.” She laughed a little. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
I looked away. “Because you’re a good person.”
“And you’re not?” She shook her head. “I’m starting to think it’s not that simple.” She stood, brushing grass and dirt off her jeans. “Want to talk about Parker?”
I nodded.
“I have a visit scheduled for Saturday. Is that okay?”
“That’s great,” I said. “Was it hard to set up?”
“Not at all. I was able to do it online.”
“Seriously?” I don’t know why it su
rprised me.
She smiled. “Yeah. It was really easy. The only thing is, I had to agree to a video visit to get the Saturday slot. Otherwise it would have taken longer. Apparently there are too many inmates in County Jail and not enough visiting rooms.”
“Wait . . . you mean like Skype?”
She shrugged. “I guess. It just gave me the option to check in-person visit or video visit. I tried in-person first, but the first available date was a month from now. I figured you’d want me to get in there sooner than that.”
“Definitely. Thank you,” I said. “So will you do it from home, or . . . ?”
She shook her head. “There’s a place I have to go to where the terminals are set up. But don’t worry, I’ve got it worked out; I’m telling my dad that I’m going to Long Beach to watch Olivia compete in volleyball sectionals. That should cover me for the day.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? I know it’s a lot to ask. I’ll understand if you’re not up for it.”
“It’s no big deal. Just a little drive downtown and a few minutes in front of a computer. Now, if they wanted to strip-search me, we might be having a different conversation.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Fair enough.”
“So what should I say?” she asked.
I thought about it. It was a no-brainer that video visits would be monitored, so whatever Selena said had to sound boring, like the same stuff anyone else would talk about when visiting someone in jail. “You should try to sound casual, natural, like you’re just an old friend paying him a visit. Don’t use my name; don’t say anything about me. You won’t have to worry about Parker’s end of the conversation; he would never say anything to compromise his trial.”
“Okay, but if I don’t use your name, how will he know you’re trying to help him?” she asked. “Isn’t that the whole point?”