Penny’s hand came up to her throat. She toyed with a necklace there, fumbling with the charm on it as Anne watched her, pleased with the reaction. The space wasn’t exactly gorgeous, but for Penny, it was perfect.
The bright-yellow bedspread shone under the afternoon sunlight. The mopped floor and dusted wood gleamed, their sheen bright and crisp, a faint lemon scent covering the hint of secondhand smoke in the air.
Baby paraphernalia had been placed thoughtfully around the room, bringing in a lightness, an airiness that highlighted hopeful signs of new life. The flowers and plants added pops of greenery—along with bursts of deep purples and bright pinks and splashes of orange—and the pretty, flickering candles smelled of pecan pie.
Penny swallowed hard. She cleared her throat, but the words didn’t come. Anne put a hand on Penny’s shoulder and squeezed.
“I really wish I had vases,” Penny said finally.
Anne glanced at the makeshift Coke bottle they’d used to contain a fresh flower bouquet. “I think it’s vintage.”
Both women looked at one another and burst into laughter. They laughed, and they laughed. They laughed until they found themselves teetering onto the ragged old couch and clutching at their stomachs. Then they laughed some more.
When they gathered themselves, Penny popped a frozen pizza they’d picked up into the oven, and the apartment burst into hominess with the scent of cheap marinara and gooey mozzarella.
“Paper plate?” Anne asked. “Pizza cutter?”
Penny pointed to a cupboard for the plates, then unearthed a knife and gave a wry smile. “Pizza cutter.”
Anne grinned and grabbed plates along with some sodas they’d also grabbed on their walk. They carried their plates to the middle of the apartment and plopped back onto the couch, crossing their legs and gossiping as they munched through soft dough and greasy pepperoni.
Hours later, Anne stood at the door. She felt a genuine burst of regret that she had to leave, and to stall, she cast a glance around the room as if there were one surface she’d missed in her polishing, one table she’d forgotten to dust.
When it all came back squeaky clean, Anne sighed. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and her abs were sore from laughing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a wonderful day.
“I had a really nice time.” The simplicity of Anne’s words felt empty against the bloom of emotion in her chest. “Thanks for adopting my babies’ stuff.”
“I appreciate it more than you know.”
Both women studied each other. An understanding floated between them, and Anne was grateful she didn’t have to rely on the flimsiness of the English language to express her true sentiment. Gratitude, hope, friendship. Such little words for such big feelings.
Anne reached out a hand and gently rested it on the light bulge of Penny’s stomach. “Thank you, little guy.”
Before Penny could respond, Anne’s phone burst to life with her ringtone.
“It’s probably Mark,” Anne mumbled. “I’m sure he’s trying to figure out what to feed the kids or something. I told him I’d be gone all day, but…you know…” Anne’s face turned red as she realized that maybe Penny didn’t know all about husbands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“It’s fine,” Penny said. “You don’t have to watch what you say around me.”
Anne didn’t hear Penny’s response, however, because she was too busy staring at a name on her phone. A name that sent fear arcing through her stomach. A name she’d hoped to never see again.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered to Penny. “I have to get going.”
“Is everything okay?”
Anne waved a hand and forced a smile over her shoulder as she launched herself down the stairs two at a time. “I’ll be fine.”
“Wait—your laundry baskets!”
Anne had already reached the landing. “I’ll grab them later.”
“Wait a second, Anne!”
Something about Penny’s tone stopped Anne in her tracks. She turned and looked back, expecting to find a fresh, youthful smile. To see eyes that were bright and shining, focused on the joy that so often accompanied new motherhood.
Instead, Anne found a stare from eyes that burned cold and hard. A smile tinged with grit and determination. Anne’s breath caught in her throat as she wondered if behind the lip gloss and easy topknot, Penny was not the innocent girl she’d suspected but a woman not to be underestimated.
“If you need anything,” Penny said, her voice slicing the air like a knife, “anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”
“I won’t.”
“Anne,” she repeated firmly. “Anything.”
Anne nodded, then ducked out the front door. As she made her way to the waiting van, a message blinking on her phone, she wondered how she could have pegged Penny so incorrectly. Despite their giddy day spent together, Anne wondered how much she didn’t know about her newest friend.
But even curious thoughts about the peculiar Penny Sands were pushed to the back of Anne’s mind as she redialed the number without listening to the message. Her hand shook as she held the phone to her ear.
“What do you want?” she rasped into the phone. “I thought we were done.”
“Oh, Anne,” Roman said quietly. “You’ve got one month.”
TRANSCRIPT
Defense: Detective Wilkes, how long have you been a cop?
Mark Wilkes: Almost twenty-one years with the LAPD.
Defense: Thank you for your service.
Mark Wilkes: It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. It’s a pleasure to serve our city.
Defense: Before you became a detective, what did you do for the LAPD?
Mark Wilkes: I worked in the GND.
Defense: The Gang and Narcotics Division?
Mark Wilkes: That’s correct. I was there a decade. Started as a beat cop before that. Worked my way up.
Defense: Would you say you’ve dealt with your fair share of bad men?
Mark Wilkes: That’s part of the job description. Yeah, I’d say I’ve seen a few bad guys.
Defense: Do the bad guys always get justice?
Mark Wilkes: That’s our goal. Of course, sometimes, they get away.
Defense: What if you know someone is guilty of a crime but you can’t prove it?
Mark Wilkes: We both know that occasionally happens. As a lawyer, I’m sure you’ve experienced it, too. My answer? Innocent until proven guilty.
Defense: How do you feel about vigilante justice?
Mark Wilkes: Er, I’m not sure what you mean. I am a law enforcement officer. I believe in the system. I believe in justice through the system.
Defense: What if things get personal?
Mark Wilkes: I would go to the police and follow standard procedure like anyone else.
Defense: Play along with me, Detective. Let’s say you discovered that your wife was being black mailed. Earlier this afternoon, you stated that you love your wife, yes?
Mark Wilkes: Of course I do.
Defense: You’d do anything for her?
Mark Wilkes: I suppose. Yes.
Defense: Would you kill for her?
Mark Wilkes: I see where you’re going with this, and no, I’m not your man. I didn’t kill anyone.