She raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Can’t I though? Open your mind, Finn, expand your imagination. What could you do with, say, a million dollars? You could give five hundred thousand to your mother. She might be able to finally retire, tobuy that condo she’s been eyeing for years in Carolina Beach. Another five hundred for you would not only pay for graduate school but a place of your own, even leave a nice little cushion to take the anxiety away.”
“How do you know about my mother?” The condo at the beach is herif I win the lotterydream. Sometimes she’d send real estate listings to him, pointing out which bedroom would be his, where they would put the jigsaw puzzle table. It repulses him to hear Jo talk about his mother’s most private desires.
“I know all about you,” she says. “I know that you encouraged Autumn to keep going with her little book about goblins even when she was ready to give up, that your mother has a penchant for misfit dogs, that your dream is to be a children’s librarian, preferably at the Noyes Library in Kensington, which you think looks like an English cottage.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Because I have Autumn’s laptop.” She stares at him as it sinks in, the meaning behind the words. Only the person who killed Autumn could have her laptop. It was one of the items supposedly stolen in the robbery. “I have all the messages and emails you’ve sent back and forth for the past five years. And I have all her creative writing, her short stories, her videos, her photos. I have the digital embodiment of her life and soul.”
“I want that laptop back. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“I know you want it back. That’s why I reached out to you. To make you an offer. Take the money. Take the laptop. And move on.”
“Move on? Your son killed someone. You don’t move on from that,” Finn says.
Jo flinches slightly. “Tell me, what good would it do to see a young man’s life ruined? Will it bring back Autumn?” She shakes her head. “Are you familiar with the term ‘blood money’? It’s the practice of offering the families of victims financial restitution for their loss. They are given a choice of retaliation or restitution. I’m giving you that choice.”
“You’re trying to buy your way out.”
“I was like you once too, believe it or not. I also was the first in my family to go to college. Not just college, but law school. I believed in right and wrong, good and evil. Things were black and white. But then I got married, had children. Life is gray, Finn. Nuanced. That woman—” She tapped one finger on the table emphasizing each word. “That woman Tori Price manipulated my son. She seduced him, toyed with him. Do you think it’s appropriate for a woman her age, a therapist no less, to sexually target a high school boy?”
“No, of course not.”
“And do you know why she did it?” She leaned forward, and Finn was surprised to see dampness forming at her hairline. A crack in Jo’s perfect façade.
He shakes his head no.
“Because my husband rebuffed her advances. It was revenge, pure and simple. She wanted to destroy this family.”
“And that justifies murdering an innocent person? You’re insane. Your son killed someone.”
Jo stands up and smooths out her tank top over her midsection. “We’re leaving. Maybe for the summer. Hopefully not for good, although Daniel thinks America’s best days are behind her. He’s wanted to move for a long time, but I wanted my kids to go to college in the United States. I still do. But if we all have to start over in Europe, so be it.”
“The police will come after him,” Finn says, looking up at her. “Van can be extradited.”
“Unlikely. He’s a dual citizen now, like me. And France is very protective of its citizens. They view the American judicial system as barbaric. They are loath to allow French citizens to be extradited, especially without a conviction.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Plus, there’s the matter of whether he’ll even be charged.”
“The police have a DNA profile.” Finn pushes his chair back and stands up. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Jo sniffs at the air. “Smell the bleach? There’s not a trace of anyone’s DNA left in this house.”
She walks around the table and out of the kitchen. Finn grabs his phone and rushes after her. He catches up to her in the foyer as she is about to open the front door. On either side of her are two suitcases with wheels.
“If you leave, I’ll call the police.”
Jo turns back. “And say what? Have you dialed nine-one-one recently? Interacted with our emergency services personnel? They’ll tell you this is a nonemergency, to call three-one-one. It’s after work hours, but you could leave a message. What will you say, Finn? That a woman is leaving the country?”
“I told you, I know the detective. The one on the case. I can call him. There can’t be that many flights going to France tonight.”
She takes the large round sunglasses that are atop her head and slips them on. “He has no authority to stop me. No one does. Besides, I’m not stupid. We aren’t traveling commercially. By the time law enforcement even responds to you, I’ll be lifting a glass of champagne in the air.” She takes her phone out and taps at it, then slips it back in her bag.
His phone pings.
“I sent you a link to a WhatsApp group. Once you accept, you’ll be able to see some of the select videos that Autumn had on her laptop, as well as the opening chapter of the children’s fantasy novel she was writing. It’s quite good by the way; she had an eye for detail. If you want the laptop, if you want the money, all you have to do is say yes. That’s all.”
“I told you, I don’t want your money.”
“You sure? It will be awful for you and your mother to be looking over your shoulders the rest of your lives, always worried that…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. “Well, that kind of stress can kill you.”