Page 15 of Our Little Secret

“Just the usual,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. She’d tossed and turned all night and it was because of Gideon. “I kept thinking about Allison Carelli and Penny Williams.” That wasn’t a lie, not entirely. She’d worried about the missing girls off and on, her thoughts interrupted by disjointed images of Gideon on the deck of his sailboat or riding his motorcycle. She’d been haunted by an image of him reading at a small table on the boat. Behind him, the door of a slim closet was ajar and hanging from a hook within, she’d seen the red cap he’d worn on her doorstep just last night.

Her stomach ground.

“Maybe Allison came home by now.” Neal was still watching her in the mirror.

“Let’s hope.” She reached for her cell phone, scanned the messages, learned nothing new. The school had issued warnings via text and email, suggesting students stay in groups and parents be extra vigilant. The school administration was beefing up security. A group text from some of the moms was full of lots of worry and little information. “If Allison’s been found, no one’s let me know.”

“They would have.” He frowned. “I already texted Jennifer. She’d heard about it—has a nephew at the school—but she said he didn’t know anything. She’s looking into it.”

Brooke didn’t respond; didn’t want to think about Jennifer Adkins.

Neal broke eye contact in the reflection and turned to face her. “This okay?” he asked, motioning to his shirt and tie.

Eyeing him, she scooted up on the mattress to lean against the padded headboard. She scrutinized his white shirt and gray slacks. His silk tie was a muted blue. “You look like a successful attorney.”

“That bad, eh?”

Squinting as if really sizing him up, she lifted a shoulder. “Or maybe a CPA?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like maybe someone who’s worked for the IRS for about fifty years.”

He laughed and his eyes twinkled. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” Then he cocked his head. “It’s the tie, isn’t it?” He untied the silk knot and reached into their shared closet. “Maybe this is better.” He held up a navy-and-white-striped tie.

“No.” She slipped off the bed, yawning as she did so, then padded to the closet. Pawing through his ever-growing collection of neckties, she finally pulled out a small floral print of muted grays, peach, and mint green. “Nowthisis a statement!”

“Yeah, that I’m an ex-hippie.”

“It’s not yellow and purple tie-dyed, for God’s sake.”

“I had one of those. My aunt handed it over when my uncle died.”

“I know.” She laughed. “But this one”—she fingered the smooth silk—“is sophisticated. It speaks of a man who knows his own mind and isn’t afraid to thwart convention.”

“Yeah sure. If you say so.”

“I do. And Marilee gave it to you for Father’s Day two years ago,” she reminded him.

“Fine.” He slid the tie around his neck, tucking it beneath his collar. “But seriously, last night you were restless.”

“I know. As I said. Worries. The girls, the accident, and no job,” she said.

“The job hunt not going well?”

“Not that great.” She helped him with the tie. These days she and Neal were getting along better than they had in a couple of years. Hence the divorce was on hold. Hence breaking it off with Gideon was a priority.

“You know, with everything else going on, I forgot to ask,” he said, looking suddenly abashed. “You went to the doctor yesterday for a follow-up?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And—?”

“It went fine,” she lied. She hadn’t been at the clinic; she’d been with Gideon, and she felt uncomfortable lying about it, but she’d already rescheduled with her oncologist. The doctor’s office, Starbucks, the gym, and dry cleaners had all been part of her alibi.

“So how did you end up having the accident near Alaskan Way? Isn’t that the opposite direction from the clinic in the University District?”

Her fingers froze on the tie for a second. He was right. Her trip to the marina had been out of the way. “Yeah, I know,” she said, thinking quickly. “Potential job near the waterfront. Thought I’d check it out and then I was late to pick up Marilee, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

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