“That’s good. Two more, baby,” she said to the bartender. Fast, like a car. A red sports car, so bright it was always out of place in every parking lot.

He slid two shots in front of us and walked away. I stared at the amber liquid, vibrating in its glass. “When I was at the Paulson house, I saw photos of your boyfriends,” I said, exaggerating the plural. “Last time we talked, you acted like you didn’t know Cliff Paulson. Why are you even here?”

“Me? I’m like—” She breathed deep and gazed up at the ceiling. “What am I like? I’m like the lighthouse, flashing its light, telling the ship it’s getting to close to the rocky shore.”

I sighed. “Did you know what was on the videos before you broke into those houses?”

“Nope, and I don’t care. No offense, but it’s like ancient history to me. Thirty years ago. I wasn’t even born. It’s like a ghost story.”

“What’s on those videos is pretty fucked up. Also, pretty damaging to Doctor Paulson.”

“Duh. That’s why the family wanted those videos back. I guess your mom contacted Paulson, said she’d seen the videos, and Paulson figured she’d gotten the videos from past employees, nurses or something.”

After what those nurses had witnessed, why hadn’t they ever come forward? Maybe their consciences never bothered them. They’d convinced themselves the doctor knew best. Maybe they feared the Paulson family’s retribution. Maybe they feared culpability.

“Doctor Paulson killed my mom?”

“No idea, but he is a major douchebag. Always talking over me, loud, total know-it-all. Well, not recently. Recently, he’s…” With her index finger, she circled her ear. Crazy.

“You broke into those houses for Brandon?”

“Something like that.”

“Why would you risk so much for some guy?”

“Isn’t that what you do for family, for Trevor, take risks? Let things slide? No better reason to take risks than for family. Or a lover.” She sang the word lover like we were middle school girls at a sleepover.

The bartender popped a basket in front of me. Cheeseburger. Fries. Desiree moved my coke out of the way for me. “Besides,” she said, “what’s the risk? My swim instructor job? My shit apartment? They’re not sending me to prison, believe me.”

“Right. Friends in high places.” I cut my burger in half. Took the napkin from under my coke, it had a wet ring from my glass, and placed it in front of Desiree, plopped the burger down. “It’s never too late to reinvent yourself, go to school?”

“‘Reinvent yourself.’ Listen to you. Like you’re some mentor.” She laughed, tipping her head back. Her canines slipped out. Again, it reminded me of a woman pulling up her silky dress to flash her creamy thigh. “What if you don’t want to reinvent yourself?”