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Back When We Were Bright and Beautiful
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. Part Two
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. Part Three
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. Epilogue
  68. Author’s Note
  69. Acknowledgments
  70. About the Author
  71. Also by Jillian Medoff
  72. About the Publisher

Worry sets in. I spoke to Haggerty to be helpful; Team Billy might see it differently. Thankfully, DeFiore doesn’t call me. But neither does Lawrence or Nate. My worry morphs into paranoia. Maybe they’re punishing me for talking to a cop. Or they’re furious I abandoned them. Or they’re busy. Or the Valmont lost cell service. Could the whole city have gone dark?

By Sunday I’m so panicky I can’t sit still. I go to my favorite Neighborhood Café on State Street for breakfast but leave before my food arrives. I lounge by the pool, but it’s too hot. My apartment is too cold. I head to the parking lot, where I slide into the front seat of my Porsche, put my keys in the ignition, and debate my next move. I end up going nowhere. I don’t even start the car.

On Monday night, I finally break and call Lawrence. “I’m thinking of coming home,” I offer casually, feeling him out. “I want to catch up on the case. I miss you guys.”

It’s after ten; I hear the TV in the background. A panel of experts debating politics. I also hear Nate. “Is that Cassie?” he wants to know.

“Yes,” Lawrence replies. “She’s asking about the case.” He sounds sleepy. No mention of Haggerty, which confirms he has no idea. If he did, he wouldn’t let it slide.

“Are you there? Lawrence? I’m talking to you.” By this point, my purse is in my hand, and I’m racing to my car. When I can’t get his attention, my anxiety surges. “Lawrence!”

“Sorry, Cass. I can’t keep my eyes open. It’s been a long day.”

Minutes later, my key is in the ignition. I back out of the lot. I don’t even look, just hit reverse and hope for the best. “What do you think?” I ask.

“About what?”

“Me coming home.”

“Sounds good.” Noncommittal, Lawrence doesn’t care. “Hey, Cassie. DeFiore is on the other line. It’s late and could be important. Sorry, kiddo. Speak soon.”

When he hangs up, fear explodes in my chest. I can feel my pulse in my teeth. I accelerate, fast then faster. Ninety minutes later, when I walk into the celebration room, Lawrence is still staring at the TV, nursing a drink. Nate is gone, but his enormous sneakers are wedged under the coffee table like white bricks.

“What a surprise!” Liquored up and woozy, Lawrence kisses my cheek. “A wonderful surprise.” But he’s selling too hard. His voice has no connection to his words. “How long you here for?”