Page 103 of So Steady

Gil had been in her house just this morning, talking about how Noah was a criminal, saying they needed to go to the cops. She stood up, needing to move as more details spilled into her brain like hot honey. Gil was a divorced father of three who wore Supreme t-shirts and Stone Island jogging pants. Gil had a Gucci watch that cost more than the one she’d left with Aaron. Gil was always bitching about child support payments, but Tabby teased him about his boots, express ordered from Kanye West’s Yeezy line. She imagined Gil sliding a few fifties out of the register and the image was as vivid as any HD movie.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God.”

She paced her dad’s office, turning the revelation over in her head like an explosive device. It had no cracks, no scratches; it was utterly perfect with just one problem—proof.

“No cameras,” she said, sitting back down at her dad’s desk. “No cameras, and he wasn’t stupid enough to use his own login or change his own hours. He must know about Noah’s history, or maybe he just thought he’d look innocent in comparison.”

He was right. Nicole remembered his insistence that they called the cops, and flushed with anger. Yeah, he’d love that. Next to an ex-bikie with a record, he’d look like butter wouldn’t melt in his sly little mouth. He was nervous this morning, Nicole realised— talking a lot, sweating buckets. He knew the jig was nearly up. His defense relied on everyone assuming Noah was guilty, but he must know that was risky; Sam and Noah were old friends, and now he knew Nicole had slept with him. What if he panicked? Called the cops himself and tried to pass it off as a citizen’s arrest kind of thing?

“Noah!”

She jumped to her feet again. She’d left her phone upstairs. After flouncing off, she hadn’t wanted to go back and collect it, but she needed to call Noah and tell him what was happening, or maybe Gil so she could confront him, or maybe the police, but to explain that they couldn’t trust a man called Gil, or maybe—

A knock at the door. Three fast ones and three slow ones.

“Go away, Tabby! I can’t deal with you right now!”

“I can’t,” Tabby said. “I feel so terrible I’m glued to the ground outside the office and the only way to unglue me is with forgiveness.”

Nicole could hear the puppies, sniffing and scratching and rubbing against the door. Could hear a watery note in her baby sister’s voice. The sister she used to feed and dress and read Winnie the Pooh to. “I’ve got work to do.”

“I know, but I have to tell you I’m sorry. I’m a dick and so is Sam. We’re bullshit sisters. We’re judgmental assholes, and we both want to say you can get rid of your tattoo if you want to. It won’t change anything. It’s just ink. Family is more important than ink. Even in this family.”

Nicole bit her lip, trying not to let the animalistic howls tearing at her windpipe come out.

“Nix, can I come in?” Tabby pleaded. “I want to give you a hug.”

Nicole pressed her hands into her hair. “Okay, but first I have to tell you something and I need you to listen to me.”

“Anything! Fire away! I’m all ears. Say it. Whatever you want to say, just say it. Fire away!”

She smiled, she couldn’t help herself. Then she remembered the missing money and panic licked up her throat once more. “Gil took the money. He used Noah’s login to shave his hours. He’s spent all Dad’s money on fancy runners and his stupid fancy gym and—andtracksuit pants for idiot teenagers!”

There was a pause.

“Gil?” Tabby asked, but not like she didn’t believe her. Like she was scared it was too good to be true.

Nicole flung open the office door and the puppies burst in, yelping and rubbing against her ankles like a velvet stampede. “It was him. I can fuckingfeel it.”

Tabby smiled. She was holding Nicole’s favourite mug. “I like it when you say the f-word.”

“Thanks.” Nicole took the tea and drank, trying to drown her panic.

“Gil,” Tabby said slowly. “He does have a lot of stuff; all the clothes and that Fat Boy, but he said his aunt died and left him some money. It could just be a coincidence?”

Nicole smiled and Tabby smiled back, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing—about their dad saying what he’d said a million different times—‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’

“Gil,” Tabby repeated. “But how are we gonna prove it?”

Nicole felt her smile fade as immensity of their challenge re-reared its ugly head. “I don’t know. Cash is so hard to trace and we don’t have cameras.”

“We should tell Sam about your theory. Three heads are better than one.” Tabby lifted the office phone. “I’ll call her.”

“No!” Nicole snatched the receiver from her. “She doesn’t want to talk to me right now. Not after what I said.”

“I told you, she’s sorry about all that.”

“What if saying sorry is just a strategy to lure me upstairs and punch me in the face?”

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