Fool Me Once

“Of course. They all came to Theo’s funeral. All these handsome, rich-looking boys with their blue blazers and school ties and wavy hair. All dressed exactly the same, all lining up to say ‘My condolences’ like rich-boy robots. But Andrew, he was different.”

“How so?”

“He was sad. Really, really sad. He wasn’t just, I don’t know, going through the motions.”

“Were they close? Andrew and Theo?”

“I think so, yes. Theo said Andrew was his best friend. When Andrew fell off that boat not long after, I mean, I read it was an accident. But that didn’t make sense to me. The poor boy loses his best friend-and then he falls off a boat?” She looked up at Maya with an arched eyebrow. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

Maya said, “I don’t think so, no.”

“Javier suspected that. We went to Andrew’s funeral, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I remembered saying to Javier, ‘Andrew seemed so sad about Theo.’ I wondered if grief killed him, you know what I mean? Like he was so sad that he ended up maybe jumping off that boat?”

Maya nodded.

“But Javier didn’t believe that.”

“What did he believe?”

Raisa looked down at her clasped hands. “Javier said to me, ‘Grief don’t do that to a man. Guilt does.’”

There was silence.

“See, Javier, he couldn’t handle what happened. The settlement, he said it was blood money. I didn’t see that. Like I said, maybe those rich boys had pushed Theo a bit, but in the end, I mean, I’d always thought the reason Javier went so crazy was because he blamed himself. He was the one who pushed Theo to go to a school where he didn’t belong. And, God help me, I blamed him too. I tried to hide it, but I think Javier could always see it on my face. Even when he got sick. Even when I nursed him. Even when he lay in his bed and held my hand and died. Javier saw that look on my face-maybe it was even the last thing he ever saw.”

She lifted her head, wiped a tear with her index finger.

“So maybe Javier was right. Maybe it wasn’t grief that killed Andrew Burkett. Maybe it was guilt.”

They sat there for a few moments. Maya reached out and took Raisa’s hand. It wasn’t like her. It wasn’t a gesture Maya often made. But it felt right.

After some time had passed, Raisa said, “Your husband was murdered a few weeks ago.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re here.”

Maya nodded.

“That’s not a coincidence, is it?”

“No,” Maya said, “it’s not.”

“Who killed my boy, Mrs. Burkett? Who murdered my Theo?”

Maya told Raisa Mora that she didn’t know the answer.

But she was starting to think that maybe she did.

Chapter 26

When Maya got back in her car, she just stared out the front windshield for a little while. She wanted so much to lower her head and cry. But there was no time. She checked her phone. Two more hang-ups from Leather and Lace. They must be getting desperate. Maya decided to break protocol. She called the number back and asked for Lulu.

“May I help you?” Lulu asked.

“Enough with the cloak-and-dagger. I’m in Philadelphia.”

“One of our best girls got sick, so we have an opening for you to dance tonight. If you want the job, it’s urgent that you come in.”

Maya held back the eye roll. “I’ll be there.”

Using her smartphone, she googled Christopher Swain, the soccer team co-captain, who had been on that yacht that night. He worked in Manhattan for the aptly named Swain Real Estate. The family had tons of holdings in all five boroughs of New York City. Great. More super wealth to navigate. She found an email address for him on the Franklin Biddle alumni page and sent him a short message:

My name is Maya Burkett. My husband was Joe. It is urgent that we speak. Please contact me as soon as you can.

She included all her contact information.

Two hours later, Maya pulled into Leather and Lace and parked in the employee lot. She started to get out of her car when the passenger door opened and Corey slipped inside and ducked down.

“Drive,” he whispered.

Maya didn’t hesitate. She put the car in reverse and was out of the lot in a matter of seconds.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when they reached the road.

“We need to take a ride.”

“Where?”

He gave her an address in Livingston, off Route 10.

“Livingston,” Maya said. “I assume this has something to do with Tom Douglass?”

Corey kept looking behind him.

“We aren’t being tailed,” she said.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“I needed to get out of there. I don’t want them to know.”

Maya didn’t ask why. It wasn’t her concern. “So where are we going?”

“I’ve been tracking Tom Douglass’s emails.”

“You personally?”

In the corner of her eye she saw him smile. “You probably think I have a big staff.”

“I know you have a lot of… ‘Followers’ seems too weak a word. More like they worship you.”

“Until they don’t. I can’t trust them. I’m just the new cause célèbre. People get distracted easily. Remember ‘Kony 2012’? So yes, I do most of it myself.”

Maya tried to get him back on track. “And you were following Tom Douglass’s emails?”