Beware That Girl (30 page)

9:47 p.m.

We talked for hours. When Anka and Bruce returned from their walk, much of the talking was actually whispering. We talked and whispered while we pretended to eat. Then we moved to my bedroom and pretended to be absorbed in something on my laptop. There, we talked and argued and cried. But I finally got to her, I think. Olivia’s eyes were clear of worship and filled with abject fear.

As they should have been.

“What do we do? We have to do something. We have to nail him,” she said as soon as the coast was completely clear. “That bastard has marked me for life.
Scarred
me. You don’t know the half of it. Neither of us is safe, Kate. I know where his tastes run. I know what he’s capable of. And to think what a bitch I was to Serena. I was actually happy that…”

“Sit down, Olivia.” I patted the bed beside me. She sat. “You’ve got to cancel tonight.”

Confusion and relief chased each other across Olivia’s face. “But we…it’s too late.”

“Look, we’re waist-deep in quicksand. Nothing short of a black ops playbook is going to get us out of this.” As I said it, I knew it was true. What were our chances? “No way for tonight. You’ve got to get yourself together. You walk in like this, you’ll either sink us both or get us killed.”

“Killed! Come on, Kate, don’t be—”

“Remember the
suicide
? It was actually a friend of Serena’s cousin’s. How creepy is that?”

The color drained from Olivia’s face.

“There’s got to be others. I’m sure of it. Everything I know about his type and how he was pressing Serena…” I looked at her hard. “You’ve got to message him and cancel.”

Olivia grabbed her phone and started pacing around my bedroom. I didn’t move. Trying to think. Coming up empty.

“I can’t message him.” She was vibrating. “I did it once and was told in no uncertain terms never to do it again. No messages, emails, texts, nothing. No leaving a voice mail. We…we make arrangements in the halls at school. If it’s really important, I can call Mark on this other number. I think it’s a burner. But even then, either he picks up after two rings or I hang up. Those are the rules. He’s, like, super paranoid.”

“No, he’s super smart,” I groaned. “He won’t have left any kind of cyber trace. So much for hacking into his office computer. I’m sure his laptop is as pure as a boatload of virgins.” I grabbed a pillow and shoved it into my stomach. “Hey, I wonder if maybe he’d have keepsakes, like of his conquests. Some of them do—jewelry, photos, something. Maybe we could somehow trace them back to his schools and then…and then…God, I don’t know, maybe blackmail him into leaving us alone or something.”

Olivia stopped pacing and fell onto the bed beside me. “Photos?”

“Yeah, photos. Like trophies of his worshippers. I know you binge-watch
CSI
and
48 Hours.
”

“He has a photo album. Maybe, I think.” Her breathing grew more and more rapid. “A while back, I saw something that looked like one in the very back of his closet, under stuff.” She gulped. “I remember thinking how weird it was for anyone to have a photo album, and then I thought that it probably had pictures of
the One,
you know? The girl who had broken his heart and turned him into such a player.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “And stupid, stupid me would be the one to make him forget her. I would heal his broken heart, and oh, God, instead he destroyed me.”

“No. No, he didn’t, Olivia. Nowhere close.”

Her tears didn’t break free. She straightened up and looked fierce. A little drunk, sure—the girl cannot hold her liquor—but still fierce.

“I’m sure it was a photo album, Kate.”

We didn’t say anything for a long while, just nodded at each other.

Finally, I took her hands in mine. “You’ll have to go back one more time.” Her hands went cold. “The performance of a lifetime. Does he ever leave you alone?”

She looked choked on the shame. “On Sundays, if I’m, uh, ‘good,’ he’ll go out for bagels and coffee for us. I, uh, haven’t been good enough the past two weeks.”

I had to look away.

“I know,” she said.

“It’s our only chance. There might be names or locations or something written on the back of the photos, and then we can work back. I’ll get Johnny to help.”

She looked alarmed.

“We don’t have to tell him why. But he’s bound to have access to some good search engines at his college—he’s taking criminology, for God’s sake—and I think he’d do it…”

“For you?”

“Yeah.” I took her glass from her. “But first you have to call and cancel tonight.”

We both looked at her phone. She was clutching it so hard her fingernails were white.

“What does he really, really want, more than anything?”

She looked away. “You.”

Neither of us made eye contact. “Then promise him that you’re getting somewhere on that front. And say you have to stay with me tonight, to keep selling me on him.”

“He’ll know.”

“No, he won’t. Not if he wants it—me—bad enough. They all have a
thing,
a blind spot, and they think they’re invincible. Look, we’ll prep you for the call and then we’ll prep you for Sunday. I’ll cancel Mrs. Chen.” I took the phone from her. “We can do this, Olivia. We
have
to do this. I’ve already had one of him in my life, remember?”

What I didn’t say, could barely think, was that booze made my old man sloppy, vulnerable. That was his thing. But Redkin? That man had total control of himself. Redkin had no discernible weak spots, no access points—except for, possibly, me. Would it be enough? Would
I
be enough?

We role-played conversations until Olivia just stopped and threw her arms around me.

“Kate, your mom, you—damn, your whole…I’m just so…”

“Let’s table that for another time. We have to call him now.”

It was almost eleven. I knew from the terror in her eyes that he’d picked up on the second ring.

“Hi, lover.” She was whispering, as instructed.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Sorry, my love. Sorry for the late notice. But it’s a bad news/good news thing. I can’t make it tonight.”

“Of course not!” She giggled.

Good girl.

“It’s her—Kate. We’re, uh, talking, if you know what I mean. Uh-huh, about that.” She nodded. “I think I’m really getting somewhere. I’m…” She shot me a look of naked desperation.

I smiled hard and mouthed, “Keep whispering.”

“No. Real headway, I mean it. I said all the things you told me to. It’s at a delicate place, and I feel that if you want her—”

Olivia stood up. “Well, you know I’d do anything for you.
Anything.
”

She was good. The hairs on my arms raised at that
anything.

“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll count the minutes. Sunday morning. It’s so far away, my love.” She closed her eyes. “You’ll see, I promise. I’ll be such a good,
good
girl.”

The pooling tears freed themselves and slid down her face.

“Yes, that too. I promise.”

I turned away, ashamed for us both.

9:05 a.m.

Brunch with the Wonders was agony. Kate had insisted they go. She said they had to do their regular things, appear normal. She also said that Mark would be eager to hear of any news from that front. Reporting to him would be part and parcel of being a
good girl.

Even though they were at Balthazar before nine, they had to line up, since none of them had thought to make a reservation. When they were finally seated, they instantly reverted to type. Claire was chronically giggly, Morgan was manic, Kate was hyperalert and charming, and Olivia, well, Olivia was highly medicated. It was hard to pay attention. Snatches of conversation and orphaned phrases dropped down and around her eggs Benedict.

Morgan: “Don’t worry, I wailed on him big-time. Nobody does that to me…”

Claire: “…it was an entirely dumpable offense.”

Morgan was breaking up with what’s-his-name? What
was
his name?
The dumping conversation took her through one of her two eggs and half an English muffin.

Kate: “I don’t know, guys.”

Claire: “Come on, Kate. It’s all arranged. Serena was insistent.”

Wait! Serena?

Morgan: “Mr. Shaw is taking care of your flight. And the rest of us have got your incidentals. It’s like an early birthday present from us.”

Huh?

Claire: “Serena’s dying to see you. Mr. Shaw has arranged everything. Her dad will do anything to make her happy. So spring break in London, ladies—the stores, the clubs. And the drinking age is eighteen, so no fake IDs required!”

What? London? With the Wonders?
Oh, she would love that! Olivia knew exactly where to go. She’d take Kate to the boutiques on Beauchamp, show her Notting Hill and Selfridges. Then she winced, remembering Mark’s reaction when she’d brought up her father’s Rio offer. But this would be even more fun. They could—

Stop!

They had a plan, she and Kate. Had to stay put.

They had a plan.

“Sorry, guys,” she said. “We can’t.” This was met with protracted groaning. “Really, you girls go. Have a great time and cheer up Serena. Kate and I are going to meet my father in Rio.” She caught Kate’s eyes. The eyes urged her on. “I haven’t seen him in weeks and weeks, so he’s arranged this whole Copacabana thing.”

Eventually they stopped pouting and protesting. It was an airtight excuse, solid and impenetrable. Everyone would be away during spring break but them. Olivia was pretty sure that she had handled that well.

—

Brunch took almost two hours in all. Once free, Kate and Olivia grabbed a cab to the Meatpacking District. Olivia started hyperventilating in the car.

Kate reached for her hand. “Take a pill.”

“I’ve already taken two.”

“Take another one. You’re freaking out. You’ve got to hold it together.”

Olivia dry-swallowed half an Ativan. How could she go through with it? She felt herself failing. He would cut her again, she was sure of it. Of all the
things
they did, the marks scarred her in body and mind. Could she take one more cut? And after all that Olivia did for him, all those nasty things, it turned out that she was just the warm-up act for Kate. Everyone wanted Kate.

But she had her.

Kate was hers. They would be forever bound by their secrets. Fortified by this, Olivia nodded.

The panic reappeared and clenched hard as soon as they stepped out of the cab. They scurried to Starbucks, where Kate would wait for her. Olivia had been practicing her breathing with such intensity that she was now hiccupping.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Come in and get some water before you go up.”

She downed most of the water in one long, slow gulp.

“Remember, you’ve got to pretend you’re in a movie or one of your
CSI
episodes. It’s important, Olivia. You’re watching it—you, him. It’s on film,
not real
. You are
watching.
You’re not in it. You have to climb right back into that dissociative groove you were in when I first met you.”

Olivia’s breath snagged. “You saw?”

“Yeah, I saw. Let’s not get hung up on it now. We’ll table that for later too. I need to know that you get it. It’s serious protection, this movie thing. We’ll bring you back, but up there, with that monster, you are the director, not the star.”

Olivia nodded. “Is that what you did? With how bad…I mean, did it help with your father?”

“Where do you think I got it from?” Kate took the plastic cup from Olivia and finished off the water. “Look, I’ve had years to embellish on that night that didn’t need any embellishing. The movie thing blurs stuff. My father tried to kill us both. I saw him gut my mother, Olivia. It’s
still
a movie. It has to be. I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other if it wasn’t.” She grabbed both of Olivia’s arms. “
Can
you do this?”

A movie?
Of course she could do a movie. Olivia had been starring in a movie for years now. She broke free of Kate’s grasp.

“Just watch me.”

11:23 a.m.