Page 32 of Between Now and Always

“Shit.” My shoulders slump under the weight of my fatigue from travel and dealing with the drama that landed on my doorstep tonight.

Just this morning, I would have said my life was virtually trouble free. I’d just come off a short, but successful tour where we opened for Coldplay a few times. I’m making money. My family is good and I’m sleeping okay.

Twelve hours later, everything is fucked up. I frown at Phil, who looks so much like the devil who spawned us that it’s jarring.

When we reconnected all those months ago, he asked me to help him get dirt on Drew and Duke. I was more than happy to help. So far, my contribution has been splitting the costs of PIs and lawyers and paying people for information they put a price on.

We have another month before we head off for our first official tour, but it’s a crazy time with rehearsal and press, and work.

I want to do more…but actually contacting Susan Kendicott fills me with panic. I wrack my brain for an alternative.

“What about Dina? She was working on this stuff when I last spoke to her. Said she was going to blow it all wide open. She had a theory similar to yours.” I grasp at the straw of hope the thought gives.

“Dina? Liz’s friend?” He looks totally bewildered.

“Yes. She’s the one who convinced me to write you the note on the DNA registry in the first place. She’s in touch with Susan’s lawyer and everything. He gave her a bunch of papers from Susan’s file.”

He frowns, his surprise deepening.

“Her lawyer’s never mentioned her to me. But, why would he, I guess?” He’s talking to himself more than to me.

Then, he shrugs and shakes his head, as if to clear it before his eyes focus again. “Dina was at the wedding, but I haven’t seen her since. Not that I do much besides work and this.”

His frown deepens, his brows draw even closer together and I recognize that austere expression on his face. I’ve seen it staring back at me from the mirror.

It’s a crazy feeling. But, I like it. When I was a kid, I envied my siblings for their resemblance to each other. And now… I have Phil.

“What reasons did she give for thinking Susan Kendicott was the fall guy?” he asks.

It takes me a second to backtrack my thoughts to the conversation we’re having. While he waits, he drums his fingers impatiently. Just like I do.

“It was when she realized who I was that the other child – you – was still alive too.

She started doubting all of the other things she knew about Susan.

“Why do you look disappointed? It’s a sound theory,” I add when he runs a frustrated hand through his hair and rolls his eyes.

“It’s not enough. Just because she didn’t kill her children doesn’t mean she didn’t kill her husband. If, in fact, he did hit her, it wouldn’t be hard to believe that she lashed out in self-defense and killed him accidentally. She’s not, as far the picture my knowledge of her allows me to paint, a credible person. She was sleeping with another man and got pregnant. What we need is evidence of… something that implicates someone else. I haven’t been able to find the original police reports or statements taken from witnesses at the time.”

I sit up, a memory cutting through the fog.

“Oh, man, yes. Of course. How could I have forgotten?” I say in self-reproach.

“Forgotten what?” Phil perks up and hope fills his wide blue eyes. I smile, relieved that, finally, I had something to contribute.

“Dina gave me a file folder full of documents from the initial investigation. I didn’t look at it back then because by that point, I was ready to wash my hands of the whole business. But she said it had original police reports and shit in it.”

“Where is it?” His gaze sharpens and he leans across the table.

The knot in my chest loosens.

“In my bedroom. In one of the suitcases I never unpacked, it has all my documents and a brick of cash I keep in case of the Zombie Apocalypse … I can make copies and send it to you.”

“That’s great. I’ll take the copies. But can you look through it now? I want to see if there’s anything in there. I’ve been waiting for something like this.”

I glance inside my new apartment, taking round the elegant room plushly appointed in a palette of beiges, browns, and grey with mid-century modern sleekness that saves it from being drab. My mother found it and convinced me that life on the Upper East Side might not be so bad. She was right. It’s perfect for me.

Now… Giselle’s in there, uninvited, troubled, and waiting for me to come back in and solve all of her problems.

---