Page 28 of The Arrangement

“Maybe we can hang out after work one night this week.” Another cop car passed me, this one with its lights on, siren blaring. My throat felt tight as it flew past me. Moments later, I turned onto my branch’s street.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“All right, well, I’m almost at work, so I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yep, later, love.” She ended the call before I’d had time to say goodbye.

How strange.

But I had no time for deciphering my best friend because at the moment, my hands were quite full concealing a murder. As I pulled into the parking lot, my blood went cold. I shook my head, though no one was there to see.

No. No. No. No.

The parking lot had two police cars in it, parked directly in front of the door, lights flashing.

Had we been caught?

Chapter Eighteen

PETER

After Ainsley left for work, I got out of bed and headed downstairs to make a pot of coffee. As much as I felt like lying in bed all day, I knew I needed to get outside and check the porch in the daylight to be sure we hadn’t missed anything the night before. Ainsley had left through the garage, and I hadn’t had the heart to put anything else on her; she was already in charge of disposing of the murder weapon. The least I could do was check to make sure we’d cleaned up the rest of the evidence.

Though I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and pretend the day before hadn’t happened, I had to get up and moving. I knew the kids would all sleep past noon, but I didn’t want to take any chances on visitors or anything of the sort.

Before I’d brushed my teeth or gotten dressed, I made my way through the house and opened the front door. I looked down, glad to see the paint hadn’t been removed by the massive amounts of bleach, but, like I’d feared, there was a definite ring of brighter paint just in front of the door. It was obvious we’d cleaned something there. I needed to wipe down the entire area. And fast.

I rushed inside, filled the bucket with bleach and water, and headed back outside with a mop. I set to work, swiping from top to bottom, the smell of the bleach making me nauseous. It was a startling reminder of the night before, making me jittery and nervous again. I couldn't help looking through the razor-thin gaps in the porch, knowing what, or rather who, lay below.

Once the entire porch had been cleaned, I stepped back, looking over my work. It looked much better. No longer could you see the circle where I'd scrubbed until it was two shades brighter than the rest of the dirty porch.

As I heard a car pulling in the driveway, I looked up, surprised to see Glennon's SUV pulling in. I groaned, setting the mop back into the bucket and crossing my arms as she climbed from the vehicle and stepped out onto the drive, headed my way with two red coffee cups in her hand.

"Got your favorite," she called.

"Thanks. Ainsley isn't here," I told her, though I suspected she knew that because she'd only brought two drinks with her, and presumably one was for herself.

"I know. I called her on the way to work, and she said she was at the office today. I wanted to come by and see if you needed any help preparing for the pictures."

My brow furrowed. "Pictures?"

She nodded. "Family pictures…today. Ainsley said you all were doing pictures, right?"

I sucked in a breath, angry Ainsley hadn't prepared me for the lie, and nodded, scratching my temple. "Yeah, that's right. Shit. I almost forgot." I took the cup of coffee from her, its warmth spreading throughout my body.

She studied me. "She said you're planning to use a tripod, so I thought I could come over and help you set up or help get the kids ready, or whatever you might need."

"Yeah," I said, nodding as I tried to keep up. "Er, I mean, no. I think we're okay. Ainsley hasn't told me what we're even wearing yet. I assume she'll figure it out when she gets home."

Her eyes narrowed, jaw twisting to the side as if she were offended. "What are you doing out here anyway?" she asked, pressing her fist into her cocked hip.

I looked behind me, where the mop rested against the wall in the bucket. She'd tracked footprints across the still-wet porch.

"Just mopping. I think we may do some pictures up here, so I wanted to be sure the porch wasn't dirty or anything." I looked away from her, trying not to meet her eye.

“I thought you’d forgotten about the pictures?”

“Oh, right, well I…” I trailed off, unable to focus. Behind her head, I noticed a spatter of blood on the white, wooden column that connected the porch to the overhanging roof.