There was a short paragraph under the pictures, and I leaned in to read.
WANTED AS PERSON OF INTEREST
The Playa Hermosa Police Department would like to speak to the above female, Grace Fontaine, 17, in connection with a theft on the peninsula last year. Please contact Detective Fletcher in confidence at 323-555-7491 with any information.
A person of interest? They knew I was nearby, and they knew I’d been involved in the Fairchild theft. They were just trying to make it seem like no big deal so people would feel better about identifying me.
I stepped away, resisting the urge to tear the flyer down, to look for others and take them all down. That would be a mistake. I would only draw attention to myself, make someone who might be passing by or looking out their window wonder why I would bother. I turned away and started walking.
It was hard not to glance around. I felt exposed, like I was walking down a hallway at school while everyone whispered behind my back. I forced myself to move at my normal pace, talking myself down as I made my way to the safety of Scotty and Marcus’s house. It was just a picture. It only looked like me because I knew it was me. A bystander would never look closely enough to connect the dots, and Selena and Logan had already promised to keep my presence a secret. For now, at least.
I was almost to the corner of Colina Verde and the safety of Scotty and Marcus’s house when someone got out of a black BMW parked near the curb. I didn’t recognize her. I thought she was just someone who lived on the peninsula. Someone’s friend or mother. But then she stopped, took off her sunglasses, said my name, and I knew I’d been right. She was someone’s mother.
Mine.
Thirty-One
The blond hair was gone, replaced by a short, swingy chop of black fringe that might have been a wig. Her body was fuller and rounder, not enough to make her overweight, but enough to soften the angular edges she’d taken so much pride in maintaining. Even her clothes were different, the tight jeans and revealing tops she liked to wear between jobs replaced with gray slacks and a black T-shirt.
I don’t know how long I stared at her. I was in shock, struck wordless by the unexpected sight of her on the heels of the flyers that were probably plastered all over the peninsula.
“Why don’t you get in the car, Grace?” she said. “You’ve done a good job with the hair and make up, you don’t look like yourself at all, but neither of us should risk it.”
I was torn between warring impulses. Part of me wanted to run away from her and never look back. But there were other parts—the eleven-year-old girl who’d been grateful to be adopted, the teenager who’d believed she finally had a mother—that wanted to step toward her, let her stroke my hair and call me Gracie.
I shook my head, like that would shake some sense into it. Renee had betrayed me in a million different ways. Even under the rules of the grift, she’d betrayed me, betrayed all of us, and that wasn’t counting the fact that she’d bailed as my mother, had left Parker to rot in jail.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I said, turning away.
“I’m sorry, Grace.” Something in her voice made me turn around. Some hint of regret or sorrow that I couldn’t even be sure was there. Maybe I just wanted it to be there. “I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea things were going to go down the way they did. Please . . . just get in the car and let me explain.”
I thought about Parker and the things Selena had told me about him. I would do anything to get him out of jail. Even talk to Renee. Because if I couldn’t find Cormac, Renee was a close second. Maybe even better, since she had the gold—or the money she’d traded it for.
I moved toward the car and slid into the passenger seat. Renee closed the driver’s-side door, sealing us away from the rest of the world. She took off her sunglasses, and I felt her eyes on my face.
“How are you, Gracie?” she said softly.
My head snapped up. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that again.”
She nodded, her slim throat rippling as she swallowed hard. “Are you safe? Taken care of?”
“Why are you pretending you care?” I asked. “Just . . . stop pretending. In case you haven’t noticed, the game is over. Parker and I lost.”
“I’m not pretending,” she said. “I’ve been worried about you. I just needed to set up someplace safe before I came back for you.”
“It’s a lot harder to con everybody into thinking you’re normal when you can’t trot out your kids to do all the work for you, isn’t it?”
She flinched a little. “I deserve that. But the truth is, I didn’t have to come back. I sold the gold just like we planned. I had to take less than I expected, but I’m not hurting for money. I just didn’t want to start over without you.”
“Without me? What about Parker? What about Cormac? He’s an asshole, but he didn’t deserve to have you steal his share of the money. To have you leave him high and dry. If you’d wanted out, you could have taken your share and gone. At least then Parker would have had money for a decent lawyer.”
“It’s not that simple, Grace.” I recognized the hard edge to her voice. It was the one she used when we had to do something unpleasant, when there was no way around it. It was her stop-whining-and-get-it-done voice. “Cormac betrayed Marcus. You must know that now, given your current living arrangements.”
“How do you—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, interrupting me. “I know. And you have to know that if Cormac did it to Marcus, it was only a matter of time before he did it to me. To us. He was getting distant. We were fighting. The Fairchild job was the perfect opportunity for him to take the money and run.”
I thought back to the months leading up to the Fairchild job. Things had been tense between Renee and Cormac, between everyone. “So you beat him to it,” I said.
“I did what I had to do,” she said. “Like always. And I did it for you and Parker, too. Do you really think if Cormac took the money he’d make sure you got your share?”
“Well, you didn’t exactly make sure we got it, did you?” I hated myself for saying it. I didn’t care about the money from Warren Fairchild’s gold. It was tainted, poisoned by the loss it had caused Logan and his family, by the sadness Selena now wore like a shroud, by Parker’s imprisonment. But it was just another blow from Renee, another way she had abandoned me.
“I have it set aside for you,” she said, “just like we planned.”
“You expect me to believe you’ll just hand it over? Write Parker a check for his legal defense? Write me one for college?”
“It’s not that simple, Grace, and you know it. If I give you money for Parker’s lawyer, where will Parker say he got it? How will you explain it?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Besides, you seem to have a plan of your own.”
Somewhere in the part of my mind that wasn’t blinded by rage, I knew she was right, but her reference to my plan—to Marcus—caused a fresh flood of anger through my veins. “I didn’t have a choice. And the fact that I managed to come up with a way to help Parker doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for helping him, especially since you have his money.”
She turned her palms up. “What do you expect me to do? How can I help in a way that won’t compromise you or Parker? That won’t compromise me?”
It was a question without an answer, which was the only reason she was asking it. And then I realized there was an answer. There was one thing she could do.
“You could turn yourself in,” I said. “Trade yourself for a reduced sentence for Parker and me.”
“Grace.” She said it softly, almost like she was disappointed I would even suggest it, that I would even go through the motions of making her say no. “You know I can’t do that.”
I turned angrily toward her. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Both,” she said simply. “I’m not willing to give up my freedom and the money we worked so hard for when there’s every possibility Parker will go free anyway, especially with you and Marcus working
together. If I gave myself up, none of us would have access to the money. We’d be sacrificing something we don’t need to sacrifice to achieve an end that’s achievable through other means. It doesn’t make good business sense.”
“I could just turn you in,” I said.
She smiled sadly. “You don’t have enough information to do that. Besides, I think we all know Cormac’s the real bad guy in all of this. He would have abandoned all of us, and you can bet your ass he wouldn’t have left a thirty-five-thousand-dollar bar of gold like I did. He wouldn’t have come back for you like I’m doing. Cormac’s all about Cormac. I think you know that by now.”
I choked out a bitter, hard laugh. “And you’re some kind of Mother Teresa?”
She met my eyes. “No, Grace. I know what I am. I always have. But I also know what I’m not. I would never have bailed on Marcus the way Cormac did, but Marcus wasn’t my partner. It wasn’t my decision to make. I only did what I did after the Fairchild job because I knew Cormac was getting ready to do it to me. Protecting myself doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“It does when it comes at everyone else’s expense,” I said, reaching for the door.
“Wait, Grace. Just . . . wait.” She took a deep breath. “I’m set up somewhere. Somewhere quiet and safe. You can come with me. We can wait for Parker. We can even get you a good ID, the last one you’ll need, I promise. You can go to college, do all the things you always wanted to do. We can leave right now.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m not leaving Parker. Not ever again.”
She looked down at her lap. “I can stay nearby for a while, but not for long. You can join me after you find Cormac, after you get Parker out. We can all start over. I . . .” Her voice broke a little. “I was . . . hard on you. Cormac was so goddamn militant. It didn’t leave room for anything human. But I love you. I know I didn’t do a good job of showing you, but you’re my daughter, and I love you. You should be with me.”
My resolve started to crumble under the weight of the words I’d waited for her to say. “How could I ever trust you again?” I asked.
She exhaled. “I don’t know, Grace. I guess we’ll just have to start over. But we can’t do that if you don’t let me in, if you don’t give me a second chance.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said, getting out of the car.
“Grace, wait!” she called before I could shut the door. “Will you think about it? Try to remember the good times and at least think about it?”
I wanted to say no, to shut the door and walk away. But that would mean never seeing her again, and now that she was in front of me, I longed for the days when she’d smooth back my hair while we watched a movie, the times we laughed trying on clothes we hated to work a job, the way we’d planned our girls’ trip to Paris, the one we never got to take. It was stupid and crazy, but I couldn’t help it. Besides, where would I go when I got Parker out of jail? I had no money, no friends, no family. Parker wouldn’t want to settle down, and I was tired of moving around all the time. I wanted a home, one place that was mine. Where would I have that if not with Renee?
“Give me your number,” I said. “Or some way to reach you. I’ll think about it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that, but if you give me yours, I’ll check in with you in a few days.”
She was afraid I’d turn her in, worried that I’d give her number to the police, that they might be able to use it to track her. I didn’t blame her. She had more to lose than I did. I’d already lost everything.
I gave her the number and walked away.
Thirty-Two
I was still shaking when I got to Scotty and Marcus’s house. I set my bag on the bench by the front door and followed the sound of Scotty’s music playing in the living room. He was lying on the sofa, reading, when I came in.
“You’re home! I was wonder—” He stopped talking and sat up, setting his book aside. “What’s wrong?”
I dropped onto the other end of the couch. I thought I’d feel safe once I was home, but it was like all the fear I’d bottled up on the street had finally been let loose, and I just started shaking harder. Renee was still fresh in my mind, but I hadn’t had time to process seeing her, to figure out what it meant for Parker and me. I started with the other stuff instead.
“There are flyers . . . ,” I tried to explain.
Scotty shook his head. “What are you saying, Grace?”
I swallowed hard, holding my hands together in my lap, trying to keep them still. “I was walking home from the bus stop and saw flyers with my picture on them.”
“What kind of flyers?” Marcus’s voice came from the doorway, and he stepped into the room and sat on one of the chairs opposite the sofa.
“They’re calling me a ‘person of interest,’” I said. “Asking people to contact Detective Fletcher if they see me on the peninsula.”
Marcus leaned forward. “What did the pictures look like? When were they taken?”
I described the photographs to him, careful to be honest about the second one, about how much it would look like me without makeup. Glossing over the truth wouldn’t do us any favors in the long run.
Marcus and Scotty exchanged a glance. It was only a split second, but the worry was evident in their eyes before they recovered, composing their faces into matching masks of calm.
“This doesn’t have to be a big deal,” Marcus said. “You don’t leave the house much anyway, and you can always color your hair a different color.”
“Exactly,” Scotty agreed. “But no more walking around the peninsula. I’ll drive you. No one will be able to identify you in the passenger seat of a car.”
I stood, pacing the floor, my earlier fear turning to a kind of manic agitation that made me feel like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. “But it means he’s close,” I said. “Fletcher knows I’m here, and now he’s sniffing me out. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me.”
Scotty rose from the couch and put a hand on my shoulder. He looked into my eyes. “That’s not true. He’s covering his bases, that’s all. It’s what any cop would do.”
“Castillo didn’t do it.”
“That’s because Castillo wants to help you. Isn’t that what you said?” Marcus asked.
“I guess.”
Marcus nodded. “This isn’t even a close call. Not by my standards. Fletcher’s looking for you, yes, but right now all he has is a possible sighting by someone on the peninsula. If they knew for sure you were here, they’d be doing a lot more than putting up flyers.”
“Marcus is right,” Scotty said. “And I haven’t seen an increase in police presence. They’re reaching.”
I knew they were downplaying the danger to keep me calm, but it didn’t work. I felt Fletcher out there, a hunter on the trail of his prey. He couldn’t see me yet. But he knew he was close. Still, there was nothing else to say about it. I’d just have to find Cormac before Fletcher found me. It was the only thing I could do.
I sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’m sorry I freaked out a little.”
Scotty put an arm around me. “It’s completely understandable. But try not to worry. We’re almost there.”
“And on the plus side,” Marcus said, “Scotty bought some of that ice cream you like, the one with the cherries and the chocolate?”
I tried to smile. “I feel better already.”
I felt a little guilty as we headed to the kitchen. I don’t know why I hadn’t yet said anything about Renee—common sense dictated that my loyalty lay with Marcus and Scotty now. But protecting Renee was habit, and I was starting to wonder if there would ever be a time when I could be loyal to only myself.
Thirty-Three
A few days later, I drove with Scotty to pick up pizza from the Town Center. I’d wanted to stay home, afraid to be seen at the one place on the peninsula where everyone congregated, but Scotty had handed me a baseball cap and insisted it would be good for me to get out, even if I did h
ave to stay in the car while he ran in for the pizza.
I knew he was right. However much I tried to seem unaffected, Fletcher was never far from my mind. If a car door slammed outside, I hurried to peer though the curtains, convinced the detective was on his way up the walkway to question Marcus and Scotty. If it was too quiet, I was sure the police were getting ready to raid the house. In my dreams I was always running, chased through woods, on the beach, through the winding streets of Playa Hermosa. I woke up breathing fast and heavy, the feel of Fletcher’s hand clamped around my arm as real as if he was right there in the guest room. I’d even called Detective Castillo, hoping for something concrete to ease my mind, but he’d only been able to tell me what we already suspected: Castillo was taking the sighting of me seriously, canvassing the peninsula and putting the word out that I was wanted by the police.
“If you’ve got anything up your sleeve, now would be a good time to pull it out,” Detective Castillo had said, as if I was holding back for some kind of dramatic reveal when the truth was, we just didn’t have anything on Cormac’s whereabouts.
Scotty and I talked about the security footage as we drove to the Town Center. I’d been reviewing it for a week, and I still hadn’t seen Cormac. There was the one close call in the used-car lot, but other than that, nothing. I still had a few tapes Scotty had gotten from businesses in the area where Marcus thought we were most likely to find Cormac. After that, I’d have to move on to the traffic surveillance tapes, and I was a lot less optimistic about finding Cormac on those. I wasn’t even sure he had a car, and if he did, spotting him while he was doing fifty miles an hour or stopped for a few seconds at a red light seemed unlikely. Marcus was quietly working his own leads, but so far he had nothing to say about them. I figured that probably meant he didn’t have anything solid either.