The Bad Sister. Kevin O'Brien
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affair. Is that true? Him and your mom’s sister?”
Hannah snapped the breadstick in half. “Yep, it’s true.”
“What was she like? Or don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Oh, I don’t mind talking about it with you,” Hannah said. “Actually, I never knew her. She died before I was even born. It was a suicide. She took a swan dive off the roof of a high-rise apartment building.”
“Yeah, I read about that, too. But did your mom or dad ever say anything about her?”
“Up until two years ago, my younger brothers and I had no idea she even existed.” Hannah sighed. “My parents kept it a secret that she had a kid sister. But last year, I got my mom to open up about her. Her name was Molly, and I guess she was a major flake—really irresponsible, sort of a wild child. But she was pretty. My mom was so mad at her about the affair that she destroyed every photo of Molly she had. Then a couple of years ago, she had a change of heart and contacted some of Molly’s high school and college friends for any pictures they’d saved. She managed to track down a few. I’ve seen them. Molly really was a knockout. Anyway, I don’t know much else about her. It’s not like my mom and dad talk about her. And for obvious reasons, bringing her up in a conversation with them tends to be a real buzz-kill.”
“That’s so sad,” Rachel whispered. She must have meant it, too, because she actually had tears in her eyes. “I feel so sorry for her . . .”
“I feel a lot sorrier for my mother,” Hannah said. “Anyway, enough about my parents. That’s one big soap opera. What about your folks?”
Rachel wiped her eyes with her napkin. “What about them?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah said. She’d thought she should change the subject so the conversation wasn’t only about her. “Are you all close?”
Rachel shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s your standard poor little rich girl story. When I was growing up, my dad was away a lot on business. My mother was an heiress. Dad took over her father’s company and made it into this huge corporation. I was raised mostly by a series of nannies and household staff members. If it weren’t for Alden, I’d have been awfully lonely. I don’t have any brothers or sisters or cousins. But I always had great birthday parties, packed with my father’s business associates’ kids and a ton of presents. I made quite a haul every Christmas, too. It’s still that way. Anything I want, I just ask for, and I usually get it. My dad sort of dotes on me now. I think it’s to make up for all the time he wasn’t around when I was a kid. He’s really overprotective. That’s why I’m going to school here. It’s only forty-five minutes away.” She made a face. “My mom and I don’t exactly get along. She’s the Botox queen of the Gold Coast. It’s gotten so her expression never changes. I honestly can’t tell anymore if she’s mad at me or happy. I’m terrified I’ll grow up to be just like her, because she was an only child, too. And I’m an heiress, like her. She went to school here, too.”
“Was she here when those murders happened?” Hannah asked.
“No, that was like fifty years ago. She came here years after that. She’s fifty-seven.” Rachel glanced at her wristwatch. “God, it’s twenty to ten. I didn’t realize it was so late. The Jewel’s closing soon. We better get going. I’m buying you guys a fan for your bedroom. It was like a sauna when I was smudging in there this afternoon.” She waved at the waiter. “Dante! Check, please—and could you box this up?” She pointed to what was left of their pizza.
Hannah reached into her purse, but Rachel insisted on paying for dinner, since she’d invited her. Hannah thought it was a pretty sweet deal having a rich roommate.
Minutes later, they stepped out of Bellini’s—right into the beginnings of a thunderstorm. The rain was just starting to come down—sporadic, heavy drops.
The two of them hurried across the street to take cover under some shop awnings. Hannah spotted the sign for the Jewel-Osco supermarket down at the end of the next block. Delmar’s main drag was only three blocks long and didn’t even have a stop light. She figured it was about a mile back to St. Agnes Village—and they were going in the opposite direction.
“Maybe we should head back now before it really starts to pour,” Hannah suggested, glancing over her shoulder. “I don’t really need to go to the store. I can survive without a fan for one night.”
“Nonsense, I’ll just call Perry,” Rachel said, talking loudly to compete with the patter of rain on the awning overhead. She fished her cell phone out of her purse. “He can drive us. No sense getting caught in a monsoon.”
“Who’s Perry?” Hannah asked. There was a crack of thunder, and she flinched.
“He’s our ride.” Rachel kept walking, but slowed down as she worked her thumbs over her phone screen. “Did you see Alden and me when we took off earlier? Perry was driving the Town Car. My father hired him. Like I told you, my dad’s overprotective. When I first started school here, he actually had three guys working in shifts on bodyguard duty. I think my parents were worried I’d get kidnapped or something. Twenty-four-seven, one of them was always in a car parked by the entrance to Saint Agnes Village—like it was a stakeout or something. Totally ridiculous. After a couple of months, I persuaded my father to narrow the team down to one guy. Anyway, that’s Perry. He’s sort of like my bodyguard and babysitter. But mostly, he’s my chauffeur.”
“Like your own personal Uber,” Hannah said. “Is he still staked out by the front gate to the village?”
“No, thank God,” Rachel said, putting her phone away. “He lives here in town, and he’s on call. Talk about a cush-cush job. I don’t think he’s much of a bodyguard. If somebody actually wanted to kidnap me, I’d be in real trouble. Still, it’s nice to have him around in situations like this. He’ll meet us outside the Jewel.”
Rachel was right. After they picked up a few items— including the last box fan in stock—Rachel and Hannah stepped out of the supermarket to find the Lincoln Town Car waiting for them. A stocky, thirty-something man with a crew cut and a five o’clock shadow stood by the car. He had an umbrella ready, and opened the back door for them. Hannah barely got wet, even with all the rain.
“Perry, this is Hannah, my roommate and ‘little sister,’” Rachel said, once he pulled out of the parking lot. “You’re going to see a lot of her in the coming year.”
“Hi,” Hannah said.
The rain beat on the car roof, and the windshield wipers squeaked a bit. Hannah saw the driver glance at her in the rearview mirror. He nodded.
“Perry’s a man of few words, aren’t you, Perry?” Rachel said. “What were you in the middle of when I texted? Don’t tell me you had a hot date. I’ll hate myself for interrupting.”
“Nothing that important,” he answered seriously. “I’m here to serve.”
Hannah had a feeling he didn’t like being teased. She noticed him eyeing her in the rearview mirror again.
After he pulled over in front of the bungalow, he jumped out and opened their door. Then he held the umbrella over both of them—while he walked in the downpour—right up to the cottage’s front door.
It was completely dark inside, and Hannah realized Eden still hadn’t come back.
She noticed Perry unlocked the door with his own key. “I should do a house check,” he announced. He nodded at the front of the bungalow. Beside the big picture window was a smaller one they’d left open. “I don’t like that open window.”
“C’mon, give me a break,” Rachel said, stepping inside and switching on the light. “The window’s got a screen on it, and all the other windows have bars on them . . .”
“Just doing my job,” he said. Collapsing his umbrella, he started in after them and then slipped off his shoes. Hannah was startled to see him head right into Eden’s and