Violet nodded her understanding, both of what her mother was saying and of what she wasn’t. Her mother slid her hands forward and Violet did the same in response. They weren’t supposed to touch but did anyway. Their fingers had barely made connection when the door opened and Polly stepped into the room with an apologetic look. It was time to go. In one guilty motion, they both pulled their hands away, the chain of Norah’s handcuffs making a scraping noise across the table, a sound that would echo in Violet’s head long after they had left the jail, and her mother, behind.
Nico
After they were gone, he went into the room where the mother-and-child reunion had taken place. He could still smell the grandmother’s perfume, floral and cloying, the kind of stuff older women wore, the only thing that gave a hint as to her age. It had been a study in genetics, watching the three of them together. It wasn’t just looks or body types that were similar, but speech and movement. Sometimes he’d forgotten to pay close attention to what they were saying because he was paying closer attention to how they were saying it. They were quite a trio: they made him uneasy enough one at a time, but all together was almost too much to take.
He stood in the small, windowless room and collected himself as he waited for the smell of Polly’s perfume to evaporate. He had to get it together so he could go after them. He’d picked up on something there at the end of their conversation. It was the story Norah had told Violet. She’d been trying to be sneaky. She thought she was smart—smarter than him—but his spidey senses had gone off. (It was a pleasure to know they still could.)
He suspected there was subtext to what she’d said to her daughter. It hadn’t been just a heartwarming story meant to comfort the child. It had been a clue. He’d give them time to get home. Get dinner going. Be lulled into a false sense of the coast being clear. Then he would show up, ask to see the bride doll she’d mentioned. He’d tear the thing apart if he had to, pull the stuffing out of it till he found what Norah was hiding.
In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Matteo’s autopsy results were due back at any moment. He pulled the phone from his pocket and frowned at it. It wasn’t the medical examiner. It was an alert from his security system, signaling that the cameras had picked up movement in his driveway, which didn’t make sense. Earlier he’d watched Karen, Lauren, and Ian all arrive home. Maybe one of them was leaving. He opened the app to see who it was.
But the person in his driveway wasn’t related to him by blood or vow. He wasn’t related to him at all, save the fact that they’d been neighbors for years, sharing bits of news, garden tools, and the occasional beers. If pressed, Nico would’ve called him a friend. When Matteo went missing, Mike had brought over a six-pack and offered to sit with him on the deck and drink it. It had been spring, and normally Nico would’ve done it. But he’d declined, saying he wasn’t up to it and that he wasn’t good company, all of which was true.
He couldn’t imagine passing the time with anyone but his brother. Mike Lewis was a poor substitute. He’d accepted the beers, though, drinking them alone out on the deck, getting drunk as he watched his family pass by the windows inside, getting ready for bed without him. He’d waited till they were all asleep to go inside.
Now Mike Lewis knocked on Nico’s door, unaware or unconcerned that he was being recorded. As he waited for someone to answer his knock, he whistled. Nico tried to place the song. Mike whistled a few more bars, and, for a blissful moment, Nico thought that no one was going to come to the door and Mike Lewis would go back where he came from, back to his homely wife and hellion twin boys. Mike Lewis had been coming around more and more, making lame excuses, which Karen fell for, offering his help in Nico’s absence, playing the concerned neighbor. He’d had to refrain from telling Karen, “Listen, about Mike Lewis. No man is that concerned about a woman without having some sort of motive.”
Then Karen would know he was watching. And he wasn’t supposed to have this app on his phone anymore. He’d gone as far as to delete it in front of her when she had asked. So he had to play it cool now, only make a move if it was truly necessary. He took a deep breath and spoke out loud in the small, windowless room. “Turn around and go home, asshole.” No, Mike Lewis was not, and never had been his friend. He was glad he’d turned him away that night.
Karen answered the door, stepping out onto the porch. She smiled when she saw him. She’d showered since she got home; wet strands were visible. She’d put on lipstick. She was wearing a skirt. He gripped the phone tighter, squeezing it so hard he wished it would break. Nothing good came in on his phone anymore. The device was an interruption, a nuisance. He’d like to throw it away. Yet he could not be without it. It was his only remaining connection to his family.
“So, you still want to go?” Mike Lewis asked, and smiled nervously.
“If you do,” Nico’s wife said to his adversary, smiling that adorable grin that Nico had thought until this moment she reserved just for him.
Mike Lewis held out his hand to Karen. She took it. “You need to say goodbye to your kids?” he asked.
“Oh no, they know I’m going out with a friend.” She giggled. “They couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
“I’ll have to thank them later for being so shortsighted,” he said. And then Mike Lewis pulled Nico’s wife away from the camera’s eye, away from the home they’d shared, away from him. Off camera, Mike Lewis started whistling again. And this time Nico recognized the song. “Carolina in My Mind,” by James Taylor. Karen had always liked that one because her name was in it. He couldn’t believe she’d told him about that. What else had they shared? Nico sank into a chair and listened as, off camera, the whistling stopped, two car doors slammed, and the car started up and drove away.
He let himself sit and absorb what he’d just seen. He’d sit there for as long as it took to calm down. He had to be on his A game when he went to Norah’s to see about the doll. He had to be OK. He’d deal with Karen’s infidelity later. But was it infidelity if they were split up? It was for Mike Lewis. As far as Nico knew, he was still very much married. Maybe he’d call Mike Lewis’s wife from the station, give her a tip. But not now. Now he had to get to Norah’s before that kid did something with that doll. There was no time to waste. He rose from the chair and walked out of the room.
He was almost out of the station when his phone buzzed again. If anything could deter him from following up on the doll, it was the results of the autopsy. He stopped in the lobby and pulled his phone from his pocket. But again, it was the security camera, not the autopsy. His heart lifted. He smiled. Karen had come to her senses, told Mike Lewis it was a bad idea and to take her home. He clicked on the app to watch the scene unfold.
But instead of seeing Karen going back inside their house, looking guilty and ashamed of herself, he saw the smirking faces of those two thugs he’d seen his daughter talking to before, back at his door. Though he couldn’t see her from the camera angle, he could hear as Lauren opened the door wide and greeted them happily.
“We got here as fast as we could,” one of them said.
Off camera, Lauren giggled. “Come on in,” she said.