“Because I knew you’d keep it safe.”
Adam would’ve retrieved the keytag from the mailbox by now. They’d transferred the work files in the garage. What else was on the thumbdrive? “Claire?” Paul repeated. “What did you do with it?”
She grasped for something that would throw him off. “I gave it to the cop.”
“Mayhew?” Tension filled his voice. “You have to get it back. He can’t have it.”
“Not Mayhew.” Claire hesitated. Should she name Fred Nolan? Would Paul be relieved if she did? Or was Nolan in on it?
“Claire? I need to know who you gave it to.”
“It was in my hand.” Claire pushed back the terror threatening to cloud her thinking. She had to come up with a believable lie, something that would give her some kind of edge over Paul and buy her time to think. “In the alley, I had it in my hand. The man who killed you—who pretended to kill you—he knocked it out of my hand.”
Paul spewed a volley of curses.
His anger spurred Claire on. “The police put it in one of those clear plastic evidence bags.” She tried to spot the holes in her story. “I used the spare at the house to drive the Tesla home. But I know the keytag is in evidence because they sent me a list for insurance. I had to forward it to Pia Lorite, our insurance agent.”
Claire held her breath and prayed that the story made sense. What was on the USB drive inside the keytag? Back in the garage, she had checked to make sure there were no movies. The only folder contained software. Or at least that’s what Paul had made it look like. He had always been exceptionally good with computers.
Paul asked, “Can you get it back?” His words were clipped. She could practically see him clenching and unclenching his fists, her usual sign that her words were hitting their mark. In all the years of their marriage, she had never been afraid that he would use those fists on her.
And now she was struck by the very real threat that he would use them on Lydia.
Claire said, “Promise me you won’t hurt Lydia. Please.”
“I need that keytag.” The underlying threat in his tone had a deadly stillness. “You have to get it for me.”
“Okay, but—” Claire started to babble. “The detective— Rayman. Don’t you know him? Somebody had to help you plan what happened in the alley. There were paramedics, police officers, detectives—”
“I know who was there.”
She knew that he did, because Paul had been right there in the alley alongside Claire. How long had he pretended to be dead? Five minutes at least, then the paramedics had put the blanket over him and that was the last Claire had seen of her husband.
She said, “Eric Rayman is the detective who’s in charge of the investigation. Can’t you call him?”
Paul didn’t answer, but she could feel his anger as if he was standing right in front of her.
She tried again. “Who helped you do this? Can’t you—”
“I want you to listen to me very carefully. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“There are cameras all over the house. Some you can find, some you’ll never see. Lydia’s cell phone is tapped. The phone you’re on right now is tapped. I’m going to call you on this landline every twenty minutes for the next two hours. That’s going to get me far enough away so that I know I’m safe, and it’s going to keep you there while I figure out what you’re going to do next.”
“Why, Paul?” She wasn’t just asking about what was happening right now. She was asking about everything that had come before. “Your father murdered my sister. I watched the tape. I know what he did to—” Her voice broke. She felt like her heart was breaking along with it. “I don’t—” Claire fought back the agony. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m so sorry.” Paul’s voice filled with emotion. “We can get through this. We’ll get through it.”
She closed her eyes. He was trying to soothe her. And the horrible part was that she wanted to be soothed. Claire could still recall what it had felt like in the den when she woke up and realized that Paul was alive. Her husband. Her champion. He was going to make all of this go away.
“I never killed any of them.” He sounded so vulnerable. “I promise you.”
Claire put her hand to her mouth so that she wouldn’t speak. She wanted to believe him. She so desperately needed to believe him.
“I didn’t even know what Dad was doing until after the car accident. I went into the barn and I found all of his … stuff.”
Claire bit her fist to keep from screaming. He was making it sound so logical.
“I was just a kid on my own. Tuition was due at the academy. I had college to think about. It was good money, Claire. All I had to do was make copies and send them out.”
Claire couldn’t breathe. She had spent that money. She had worn jewelry and clothes and shoes paid for by the blood and suffering of those poor girls.
“I promise you. It was only a means to an end.”
She couldn’t take this anymore. She was so close to her breaking point that she could practically feel herself bending.
“Claire?”
She said, “The movies on your computer weren’t old.”
“I know.” He was quiet for another moment, and she wondered if he was trying to think of a lie or already had one and was just pausing for effect. “I was a distributor. I never participated.”
Claire struggled with the urge to believe him, to hold on to this one piece of her husband’s humanity. “Who is the masked man?”
“He’s just a guy.”
Just a guy.
“You don’t have to worry about him.” Paul sounded like he was talking about an asshole from work. “You’re safe, Claire. You’re always safe.”
She ignored his comforts because her only other alternative was to believe him. “What’s on the USB drive?”
He went quiet again.
“Are you forgetting who gave you that Auburn keytag, Paul? I know there’s a USB drive inside the plastic disk, and I know you want it back because you put something on it for safekeeping.”
He kept silent.
“Why?” She couldn’t stop asking the question. “Why?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Is that some kind of stupid joke?”
“The plan had to be moved up. There were other things in play. I tried my best to keep you out of it. But what happened with that guy in the alley, the sentiment was real, Claire. You know I would lay down my life to protect you. Why do you think I’m still here? You’re everything to me.”
Claire shook her head. She was dizzy from all of his excuses.
He said, “The people who are into this stuff are not nice people. They’re powerful. They have a lot of money and influence.”
“Political influence.”
He made a surprised sound. “You were always so damn clever.”
Claire didn’t want to be clever anymore. She wanted to be in control. “It’s your turn to listen to me. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“If you hurt Lydia, I will hunt you down and burn you into the fucking ground. Do you understand me?”