The image on the screen changed to one of a beached whale in Redondo, and Scotty turned off the TV.
Parker Dawson. So now they knew Parker’s real name. All his secrets were laid bare for everyone to see, and I suddenly felt sick, the sandwich forgotten. “June twenty-ninth . . . that’s only five weeks from now,” I said softly.
Scotty sat down next to me and put a gentle hand on my back. “I’m sorry, Grace. We’ll figure something out.” He looked at Marcus. “Won’t we?”
Marcus nodded. “We’ll sure as hell try.”
“Why don’t you take a break?” Scotty suggested. “Have some lunch.”
I shook my head and picked up my computer. Parker wasn’t sitting in a cushy house in Playa Hermosa, eating a gourmet sandwich and drinking water. He was in jail. Sleeping on a hard bed and eating crappy food. Deprived even of the privacy he needed to feel safe and protected. “We can work while we eat,” I said.
Marcus hesitated, then took a bite of his sandwich and leaned toward his computer.
We moved into the years following Parker’s adoption, working our way through the details of every con, beginning with Lansing, Michigan, the location of our first job. Marcus asked questions, making notes as I talked. If I forgot a detail or couldn’t be sure about something, I’d look it up on my computer before passing the information to Marcus. We’d worked our way to Baltimore when Marcus asked, “Are you sure?” for what felt like the thousandth time.
“Yes, I’m sure!” I practically shouted. “I’m as sure as I can be, okay?” The extraction of details from my murky past was a painful exercise. My head hurt, and my body was stiff from sitting all day. More than that, my heart felt raw and wounded. Not because of what Cormac and Renee had done to Parker and me, but because I’d been forced to face every lie I’d told on the grift, every time I’d used or hurt someone. I thought I’d remembered them all, that I’d owned up to all the things I’d done. Turns out I was wrong.
Marcus raised his bushy eyebrows.
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”
He closed his computer. “Let’s call it a day. Scotty has dinner going. You can eat and head home, get some rest for tomorrow.”
We ate on the deck, listening to music and the sound of the birds calling to one another in the trees. We didn’t talk much, but I didn’t mind. It was an oddly comfortable silence given the fact that we hardly knew each other. Then again, maybe everyone else was just as tired as me.
Marcus insisted on driving me home, and I sat in the front seat of the Range Rover, clutching the container of leftovers Scotty had insisted on packing for me. I asked Marcus to drop me off one street over from Selena’s house, and he pulled over to the curb and put the car in park.
“You never told me his name,” I said.
Marcus looked over at me. “Whose name?”
“Cormac’s,” I said. The question had been bothering me ever since I’d heard the newscaster say Parker’s name. “The first day we talked on the beach, you said Cormac wasn’t his real name, but you wouldn’t tell me what it is.”
“It’s Peter,” Marcus said.
“And Renee?”
He laughed a little. “Hell if I know, kid. She’s been Renee as long as I’ve known her.”
I looked out the window, trying to attach the name Peter to Cormac’s face. I couldn’t do it. “Will the name help us find him?” I asked.
“Probably not. I doubt he’s ever gone back to it.”
I sighed. “Well, I guess I better go,” I said, reaching for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
It was nearly seven, and I kept my head down as I walked, knowing the evening commute was in full swing and hoping Selena’s dad wasn’t already home from work. I had turned the corner onto Selena’s street when I saw the poster stapled to the light pole.
PROTECT YOUR QUALITY OF LIFE!! it screamed. I stepped closer to the poster and stopped walking, my concern about being seen temporarily forgotten.
Underneath the headline was a picture of a peacock, but it didn’t look like the birds I’d seen on the peninsula with their soft brown eyes, their calm, meandering strut. The one on the poster looked bigger and more ominous, its eyes small and mean. My gaze moved to the text underneath the picture.
After years of complaints, the town of Playa Hermosa is finally hearing arguments regarding the possible relocation of the peninsula’s wild peacocks. While these animals may seem tame, they are a frequent cause of car accidents due to their tendency to stand in the middle of the road. Furthermore, their squawking threatens to drive down property values in the area. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO BE HEARD by town officials. A meeting will be held on June 25th at seven p.m. in the town clerk’s office. Please attend to PROTECT YOUR WAY OF LIFE on the peninsula.
My gaze returned to the peacock. The claims made in the poster weren’t lies exactly. But the peacocks were just doing what they had to, trying to survive in a habitat that had probably been paved and developed right before their eyes. They’d been here for decades. It was home to them now. Wouldn’t moving them, forcing them to adapt to another environment, be cruel? And for what? So the residents of Playa Hermosa didn’t have to slow down, to take care as they drove around a bird in the road? So they didn’t have to hear something other than the sound of their own voices?
But that wasn’t fair either. Not everyone on the peninsula was arrogant or selfish. There were people like Selena, like Logan and his family, like Marcus and Scotty. It was hard to imagine any of them being on the side of the meeting organizers who wanted to banish the peacocks.
A sleek blue Mercedes glided past me, pulling into a driveway down the street. The sight of it pulled my thoughts away from the poster, and I continued to Selena’s house, stepping onto the shady path and hurrying to the backyard. I was almost to the door of the pool house when I heard a voice behind me.
“I was getting worried.”
I turned to see Selena standing with a plastic grocery bag in her hands.
“You were?” I felt a little ping of gratitude.
She nodded. “My dad went to the farmers’ market yesterday. I thought you could use some fruits and vegetables.”
I took the bag. “Oh, wow . . . thanks. That’s awesome.”
Her eyes dropped to the plastic container in my hands. “What’s that?”
I looked down at the leftovers Scotty had packed for me. “Just . . . some leftover food.”
A smile touched her lips, but there was suspicion in her eyes. “That doesn’t look like restaurant takeout.”
I wanted to lie. It would be easier than the truth, which was basically that I couldn’t tell her anything. I wouldn’t compromise Marcus and Scotty by telling anyone about them, wouldn’t even say I had help in case I was caught and the police found out. Then they might search the peninsula, start looking too closely at its residents. Marcus and Scotty didn’t deserve that. But I wouldn’t lie to Selena again either.
“It’s not,” I said. “I went to dinner at a friend’s.”
“A friend’s?”
I nodded, oddly insulted at the tone in her voice, like it was impossible to believe I could still have friends. It was irrational. She had every right to assume I was alone in the world. Until a couple of days ago, I had been.
“You haven’t told anyone you’re staying here, have you?”
I heard the fear in her voice and a wave of regret washed over me. “I told two people.” I hurried to continue as disbelief hit Selena’s face. “But they’re completely trustworthy! I promise.”
“You promise?” she snapped. “You promise. And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Her voice had gotten too loud, and she looked around the backyard before returning her gaze to me and lowering her voice. “That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, Grace,” she hissed.
I swallowed hard. Sometimes telling the truth sucked. “I know. But it’s true. I would never do anything to hurt you again. My . . . friends have more to lose than you do
. They can’t afford to say anything about where I’m staying.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you think you have the right to make that call?”
I sighed, exhaustion hitting me all at once. “No. I just . . .”
“What?”
I shook my head. “I wish things were different, that’s all. I’m trying to do the right thing for once. Trying to protect you and make things right, and I’m just so . . . fucking worried about Parker. . . .” My voice broke a little with the weight of it. “I can’t see him or talk to him. I can’t make sure he’s okay in there. I can’t even tell him I’m here, trying to get him out.” My shoulders sagged. “I’m doing what I can, Selena. If you want me to leave, I’ll understand.”
She looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you’re doing. I’m sorry that I scared you. Would you feel better if I left?”
She seemed to think about it. “Yes and no.”
I laughed a little. “What does that mean?”
She took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t care. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I care what happens to you, Grace. At least if you’re here, I know you’re okay. And you never know; I might be able to help.”
I smiled. “You’re already helping.”
“What if I could do more?”
I shook my head sadly. “You can’t. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“I could visit Parker.”
My heart seemed to stutter. “What?”
“I could visit him in jail. I wouldn’t tell anyone here—like my dad or Logan or anyone—and no one else would think twice about it. We were friendly when he went to school here.”
I banished the spark of hope that rose inside me. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking,” she said. “I’m offering.”
“But . . . why? After everything I did, why would you do any more to help me? To help us?”
Her throat rippled as she swallowed. “I don’t know. I can’t help caring about you, Grace. You were the best friend I ever had. And the truth is, it kind of seems like you got a raw deal.” She looked up and met my eyes. “Not that I’m making excuses for you.”
“No,” I said. “I can’t even make them for myself.”
“But you and Parker . . .” She shook her head. “It’s fucked up what Cormac and Renee did to you, what they made you do.” I flinched a little at the sound of her cursing. In all the time I’d known her, I couldn’t remember ever hearing her swear. “You were just kids. They took advantage of you. Used you.”
Shame heated my cheeks. I’d always hated it when Parker claimed our parents used us. I felt accused, guilty. Like someone couldn’t use me if I didn’t let them, if I wasn’t so weak that I made it possible. Sometimes I didn’t know what was worse, being bad or being weak. Being used.
“Well, like you said, that’s no excuse.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little help.” She looked into my eyes. “Let me do this, Grace.”
Twenty-Two
I waited for Selena’s father to leave for work the next morning before taking the bus into Torrance. Selena had told me that her dad kept Saturday hours for his patients, and I made a mental note to be back before four, when she said he usually came home. I needed some things from the drugstore, and I wanted to check in with Detective Castillo before I went to Scotty and Marcus’s house.
I got off near the Econo Lodge and walked to Starbucks, where I sat down on the curb at the back of the parking lot and dialed Detective Castillo’s number. He picked it up on the second ring.
“Detective Castillo.”
“It’s Grace.”
There was a surprised pause on the other end of the phone. “Grace . . . how are you? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I said. “I’m working on . . . the stuff we talked about. On getting you the information.”
“That’s good, but listen”—he lowered his voice—“Parker’s trial date has been set for June twenty-ninth. That doesn’t give us much time, and Fletcher talked to someone on the peninsula yesterday who thinks they might have seen you.”
All the blood seemed to rush to my head, Detective Castillo’s words buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. “But I’ve been so careful . . . and how did they recognize me with the darker hair and stuff?”
“We don’t know for sure that it was even you, but you need to be extra vigilant from now on. Legitimate lead or not, Fletcher’s all over it.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? Take your chances with the DA’s office?”
I thought about it. If it were just me, maybe. But I couldn’t make that call for Parker. And now that I was working with Marcus, I felt more optimistic about our chances of getting Parker out of jail. It was a gamble, but it was one I had to take. More than that, I knew it was one Parker would want me to take.
“No, I’m going to get you what you want. Actually, I’m going to get you more than what you asked for. I’m going to get you Cormac.”
“Grace, don’t—”
“I’ll call you back in a couple of days.”
I disconnected the call and headed to Rite Aid. I filled my basket with toiletries and snacks, then caught the bus to the Town Center. When the bus dropped me off, I took a winding, circuitous route to Colina Verde, being careful to stay off the main arteries and busier roads. The sun was already hot and insistent, and by the time I got to Marcus’s house, I was out of breath, my ponytail stuck to the nape of my neck with sweat.
“Grace!” Scotty said when he opened the door. “Are you okay? Get in here.”
I stepped through the door. “Can I have some water, please?”
Lines formed on his forehead as he studied me. “You don’t have to ask for something like that here, Grace. Come on.”
He led me to the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water from the fridge. I downed it in one shot and finished another one before I finally started to breathe easy.
“What’s going on?” Scotty asked. “Where have you been?”
“I had to go to town,” I said. “I needed some things from the store, and I needed to call Detective Castillo so he didn’t get worried and start looking for me. I just didn’t realize how far away your street is from the Town Center.”
“I thought you weren’t going to contact Detective Castillo without talking to me first.” Marcus’s voice came from the doorway. He didn’t sound mad, just walked to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee before leaning over the island. He yawned, and it was obvious he’d just woken up.
“Oh . . . right.” I’d forgotten all about that rule. “I’m sorry. I was in town and I wanted to get it out of the way. I’m never sure if my phone can be traced.”
“Everything can be traced,” Marcus said. “You can thank modern wiretap laws for that.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“He’s not telling you the rest.” Scotty shot an admonishing look at Marcus. “They can tell which cell tower you’ve accessed, but that doesn’t necessarily tell them where you are, especially if you make a point to move right after you make the call.”
“Please tell me you made an effort to move right after you made the call,” Marcus said drily.
I kept expecting him to yell or scream, to read me the riot act about protocol. I wasn’t used to his blasé delivery, the feeling that he wasn’t too invested in the outcome of anything. “I moved after I made the call,” I said. “I chose a busy place in town, kept the call to two minutes, and then left right after I hung up.”
“Good girl,” Scotty said. “They can triangulate your call using the ping if they really want to, but it would take a little time, and they’d have to be really invested to get it done.”
“How much time?” I asked.
Scotty thought about it. “At least fifteen minutes.”
“
I’ve always been gone by then,” I said. “And anyway, I don’t think Detective Castillo is looking to out me. Wouldn’t he have to initiate the trace?”
Marcus nodded. “Since you called him directly, yes. But never count on the kindness of strangers.”
“Isn’t that what you are?” I asked, holding his gaze.
His face was impassive in the moment before a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “You’re one smart cookie, you know that?” He slid off the bar stool and headed for the hall. “Back to work in T minus fifteen minutes.”
I hesitated. “Marcus?”
He turned around. “Yeah?”
“Somebody on the peninsula told Fletcher they’d seen me recently.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Castillo tell you that?”
“Yeah.”
He rubbed the stubble at his chin. “They don’t have anything. It could have been anyone. But you should still make yourself scarce.”
I nodded. I couldn’t tell him I was already so scarce, I wondered if I even existed sometimes.
“Don’t worry, kid,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”
I tried to smile. “Thanks.”
“He likes you,” Scotty said when Marcus had disappeared beyond the doorway.
I laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
Scotty cast me a knowing smile and went to work on breakfast. He was sliding pancakes onto plates when he spoke again. “You know, I can drive you into town if you ever need something,” he said.
I shrugged. “It’s fine. I can take the bus.”
He pushed one of the plates toward me along with a glass container of syrup. “You’re very independent. Very self-sufficient. But everyone needs a little help now and then. And I’ll tell you a secret.”
I looked at him. “What is it?”
“I like helping people,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. I laughed, and he continued. “It’s not like that old fool makes it easy to help him. I’m serious. I can give you a ride into town, pick stuff up at the store if you need it. All you have to do is ask.”