Max

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Kate wobbles on her knees, one hand planted on the edge of the pool. Her hair’s hanging down, dangling in the water.

“Kate!” Wes knocks over a plate of muffins in his haste to get to his feet. Carson grabs at his sleeve, but it’s too late. He’s at Kate’s side in an instant, crowding her, pulling her back into his arms. “It’s all right. Breathe for me.”

She scrubs at her mouth, ignoring him.

“Come on—let’s get you back to the hotel.”

“Mmph—no. I’m fine. Let’s just....” She coughs and sways dizzily. “Give me a second. We’ll keep going.”

“No way. I’ll call another Uber. We’ll—”

Kate shakes him off. She’s hyperventilating. Shivering all over. “I’d rather not get in a car right now, if it’s all the same to you.”

“At least get out of the sun.”

She twitches her shoulders, throwing off his hands. He slings his arm around her waist instead. Somehow, that’s what snaps me out of my daze. Fucking Wes—awkward, oblivious, getting in the way—

“Get off her—give her some space.”

Wes looks up, startled. Wounded. “I’m just trying to help. She needs—”

“Five minutes and a glass of water. That’s what I need.” Kate picks herself up, brushing at her knees. She’s pale and sweaty, unsteady on her feet. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall, fourth on the left. There’s spare toothbrushes and stuff under the sink. Do you need—?”

“No.” She turns and walks away, splotches of red blooming on her cheeks.

Carson glances at Wes. He blows out a frustrated breath. “C’mon, man. Let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving Kate.”

“Oh, for—” He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair. “Read between the lines. These two have shit to talk about that doesn’t concern us. Plus, I don’t know about you, but I could use some fresh air.”

“But....”

I frown. Something’s off kilter here. Can’t put my finger on it, exactly, but....

Carson tucks Wes under his arm, manhandling him toward the hall. “Kate’ll be fine. Let’s get a drink. Lick our wounds.”

“Shouldn’t we—shouldn’t we be coming up with a plan?”

“We’ve got almost three weeks this time. Besides, what kind of plan are we going to come up with right now, steeped to the gills in embarrassment, trying to pretend we can’t smell Kate’s vomit?”

I get to my feet. Carson’s right: it’s disgusting in here, humid as a sauna. I don’t feel great myself, tired and queasy, and, yeah. Embarrassed. What do you call it when you bang your ex in a public park, and her hotel room, and her other hotel room, and wherever else she’ll have you? He was there? He...watched us?—from where? How much did he see?

Wes comes running back in. Snatches his phone off the table. “Have her text me. I... Just let her know—”

“Come on!”

“Better not keep him waiting.” I summon up my best semblance of a grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her.”

The second I hear the elevator, I go looking for Kate. She’s not in the bathroom any more. She isn’t in the sitting room, either, or the kitchen, or the study. I spot a light on upstairs, and follow it to my bedroom. There she is, curled up on the couch, with my quilt around her shoulders.

“You all right?” Stupid question. Of course she’s not.

Kate sits up with a groan. “Not sure. Thought it was just stress, but I think I might actually be sick.”

“Ugh.” I touch my wrist to her forehead, then the back of her neck. “You’re a little warm. Can I get you some ice? Ginger ale?”

She shakes her head. “Sit with me?”

I sink down next to her. After a moment’s consideration, I join her under the quilt. She burrows gratefully into my side. It’s cooler up here, with a fresh spring breeze blowing in off the terrace. The air smells clean, this high above the city, no trace of dust or exhaust.

“What happened to Carson and Wes?”

Carson and Wes.... “Fucked off somewhere. Figured we might need to talk.”

Kate squirms a little closer. My hand finds its way into her hair, combing it back from her face. That sense of something not quite right niggles at me again. Carson and Wes. Carson folding Wes under his wing like a bossy bird. Carson—

Carson.

My fingers still. Kate looks up, questioning.

“It’s Carson. The blackmailer.” It feels right, now I’ve said it. Obvious, even.

“Wait, what?”

“It has to be. Or—or it could be.” Already, doubt’s creeping in. Maybe if I talk it through. “Think about it: you got your first note ten years ago, which rules out my shrink theory. Who do we know from high school, who’s close enough to know all our secrets, and sneaky enough to turn them against us? Carson, that’s who.”

Kate lifts her head, brow furrowed. “Carson? Sneaky? Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Definitely.” I’m more sure now than ever. “Who turned everyone against you, right from the start? Made sure you’d be alone and unprepared, at that fashion show?”

“Well, he did, but—”

“And who tried to push the blame on Dev, then ripped the rug out from under Rachel when she tried to do the same thing?”

“Shit....” Kate sits up, eyes sharp and focused. “Wasn’t he living with Dev, like...right before he died?”

“Yeah—from October till, I don’t know—January? February, even. Pretty close to the end.” I shove the quilt off me, prickling with sweat. “He’s been playing us off each other this whole time. He comes on like a wrecking ball, so you don’t see...so you don’t notice him swooping in for the kill.”

“He has been pretty quick to point the finger. And he loves making the rest of us feel dumb whenever we try to get anywhere. It’s like—it’s like if he rips holes in everything we say, we won’t know what’s important for him to hide.”

“Exactly! Exactly. But....” Uncertainty creeps in again. “He never has any theories of his own. If it was him, wouldn’t he—I don’t know. Wouldn’t he try to throw in a red herring or two?”

“Maybe he’s playing it safe. Not being too obvious about it.”

“Yeah—maybe. I don’t know.” I frown. “No—I do. This is what he does. Skulks around, sowing doubt, and then...boom. I mean...the way Wes was acting at the airport—was that normal for him?”

“No.” Kate rubs at her mouth. She’s looking kind of green again. “He’s excitable, but...no. That wasn’t him. Like, at all.”

“And where was he, the night before?”

“Drinking with Carson....”

I jump up, triumphant. “Drinking with Carson! And he tried the same shit on me, the night we got back from DC—pouring bourbon down my throat, trying to get me to admit to, uh.... Us.” I realize I’m pacing, and force myself to stand still. “That whole night was fucked up—that guilt trip he laid on us... I mean, not that we didn’t deserve it, on some level, but it’s not like he’s been a saint in all this.”

“So you’re saying....” She swallows hard. Presses her fingers to her mouth. “You’re saying he’s been working us like sock puppets all along. And now, he’s...he’s glommed onto Wes?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” She pulls her knees up to her chest, scrunching herself into a ball. “What could he possibly stand to gain from ruining our wedding? From any of this?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. It’s got to be jealousy.”

“Jealousy? Of...us?”

“Yeah. I mean, Matt Danbury ruined his life. He didn’t skip West Point: he didn’t get in. His grades tanked senior year. His dad made him enlist. That was it for him—one long downhill slide, from there.”

Kate knits her brow. “Why our wedding, though? Why just us? We were all in on Matt Danbury. Shouldn’t we all have got notes?”

“Who’s to say you were the only one? I mean, why’d Wes go to London? Maybe he was running from something, too.” I’m on a roll. “And even if nobody else got a note, it still makes sense. Dev and Wes—they were going nowhere. Nothing to envy there. Dev was, y’know...lost. And Wes had his dad to worry about. But you and me—we had a future. We had plans.”

“So did Kyle and Rachel.”

“Yeah, but Carson and Kyle were like this, in high school.” I hold up my thumb and forefinger, nearly touching. “And they had their falling out just recently. Just before Carson moved in with Dev.”

Kate rocks in place, eyes shut. “So he and Kyle part ways, his wife kicks him out, and his jealousy comes roaring back?”

“Why not?”

She nods slowly, hugging her knees. “It makes sense, I guess. I could see him screwing with our wedding, at least. Killing Dev, though—Dev, of all people?”

I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around that one, too. But there was always something off about Carson...wasn’t there? He was all over me after Kate ran off, wanting to take me drinking, shooting cans in the woods—whatever it took to get my mind off her. Almost like he was enjoying it. Getting a good look at what he’d done. That kind of sadism doesn’t evolve into anything good. Especially—

“Max?”

“Sorry—I was just thinking, he called himself a coward in his blackmail notes—the ones he sent himself. What if he’s covering for something worse? Making himself look scared and vulnerable, when really, he’s.... We don’t know what he did over there, what happened to him—maybe life’s cheap, to his eye.”

“That’s... We can’t assume that.”

She’s right. “So we’ll find out.”

“We need to get Wes away from him in the meantime.” She gulps. “Jesus Christ—was he listening at the door that night? After the funeral, when we...?”

I don’t want to picture it, but.... “Yeah. Probably.” I was pretty loud, too. There wouldn’t have been much doubt what she was doing to me. “Don’t think about it.” I sit down again, pulling her into my lap. “You’re sick. And there’s nothing we can do right this second.”

I feel Kate shudder. “I should text Wes, or—”

“Carson might see it. Plus, Wes can’t keep a secret for shit. We can’t tip our hand. Not till we’ve got something on him, something we can nail him with.” I slide my hand under her shirt, rubbing her back. Slowly, she starts to relax. “It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me,” I whisper. That feels right, too, now I’ve said it. “About our wedding, I mean. I might’ve kept the secret a while, but I’d eventually have told Dev, and he’d have told Carson, and... You were right. You were right.”

Her breath hitches slightly. She wipes at her eyes.

“I’ve spent so much time being furious with you—it’s not fair. I can’t let it go, just like that, the hurt, the anger, all that betrayal, but...can you give me some time? Would you—do you still want...?” I’m not sure how to finish that thought. I’m not asking her to go back to how things were. But if I still love her, and she still loves me, haven’t we earned a chance?

Kate’s nodding, hot tears soaking through my shirt. Can’t have that—can’t have her crying. Not now. I’m supposed to be taking care of her, making her feel better. A smile tugs at my lips: bet I still know how to tickle her funnybone.

“I have to ask you one thing.” I poke her in the ribs, just gently. “Wes send you any dick pics? On Tinder, I mean?”

Her sobs turn to laughter, loud and violent. “No! Ha! My God!” She snickers. “I’ve seen it, though. His dick.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, yeah. He and my assistant were quite the hot item, for a while. Five, uh...six years, I think?” Kate looks up at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Came back to the atelier late one night, to pick up my portfolio, and he was, uh.... She was....” She’s outright gasping, now, shaking with laughter. “She had this strap-on, and...yeah.”

Shit. “Go, Wes?”

“He seemed to be enjoying it.” She sighs, giggles subsiding at last. “Not sure why they broke up. She never said, and he kept clinging to the old mutual parting of the ways excuse.... Poor Wes. Really thought he’d found the one, there.”

I thumb the last of the tears off her cheeks. “You’re looking better: more pink in your cheeks.”

“I feel better.” She inhales deep and lets it out with a sigh. “A little shaky, but my stomach’s settling down.”

“Good.”

“When we catch Carson...” She cuddles up against me, nipping lightly at my jaw. “Let’s make him piss his pants for real.”

“Think that could be arranged.” I’d like to do much more than that. Fucker has a lot to answer for. I might not be able to make him feel Dev’s wrenching despair, the terror of Kyle’s last moments, Rachel’s aching desolation, but he’ll feel something, all right. I’m going to rub his face in it. Make him face up to what he’s done. And then...and then....

Maybe I will kill him.