“The way you can be with people when you’re ambitious. I know you don’t mean any harm, but just be aware. You know how you used to be with your dad sometimes.”
Arianna didn’t have to ask. She had been famous in the family as a child for working her charm with her father to get what she wanted, and later as a teenager to get out of trouble. She used to marvel at how easy it was, without even really trying—but then she would feel guilty. The unintentional manipulation seemed almost natural, a bad habit she had to remember to rein in, like her craving for sweets. By now, she thought both had been under control for years.
“Trust me,” she replied. “I’m aware.”
“You want a lot from him,” Megan said, as if she had to be reminded. “More than you’ve ever wanted from anyone. And he seems so vulnerable.”
“I know that. But I’m not trying to push him. I swear on my dad’s grave. I would never, ever do anything to hurt him.”
Megan held up a hand as they walked into the shivery night and leaned under a nearby awning. “I believe you.”
Arianna dropped her voice to a whisper, eager to change subjects. “By the way, how is our little investment doing?”
“Great. Turns out it was pretty undervalued.”
“You’re kidding. So you could make a killing.”
“Me?” Megan smiled pointedly. “It’s only mine in name.”
“Oh, I’d let you keep any profits. Look how much you’ve done!”
Megan shrugged. “Buying and selling I do all the time.”
“Plus your eggs…”
“Those were my gift to you.”
Arianna chuckled. “Who would have thought, when we were kids, that one day I would be thanking you for your eggs?”
Megan smiled briefly, then turned serious. “I’ve been thinking about this new man of yours.”
“Oh?”
“Are you sure it’s the right time to get so involved?”
Arianna shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about a man. Better late than never, right?”
Megan eyed her. “What are you not telling me?”
“Well, I know it sounds like a bad idea, but I wish I could tell Trent everything. It’s so hard not to!”
Megan closed her eyes. “I was afraid of that.”
“But, Meg—”
Again, she raised a hand. “Would you trust him with your life, Arianna? He could rat you out in a second—and make a quick grand. Don’t be impulsive.”
“I think he values my life more than a Vigilant Citizen Award,” Arianna replied indignantly.
“Do you even know what he thinks of this kind of research?”
Arianna shook her head. “I’ve steered clear. Part of me doesn’t want to find out.”
“If he seemed the slightest bit suspicious, I’d move and change my number if I were you. Hell, even my name.”
“Come on.”
“You want to end up like Sam’s wife?”
“No,” Arianna said vehemently. “But you don’t know Trent. He’s been so good to me, even after I told him about my MS. And it’s not just that. I remember to have fun when I’m with him.”
“Talk about an elephant in the room.”
Arianna hesitated. “I guess I should at least find out where he stands. But if he truly cares about me, how could he not support research that might save my life?”
“I don’t know,” Megan replied, feigning thoughtfulness. “Maybe you should ask the judge who threw Sam in jail. I bet he could tell you the answer.”
* * *
As Trent watched Arianna step out of her clinic on Friday evening, he immediately noticed that something was different: In one hand, she was carrying a strange black case. Although the edges appeared rectangular, it bulged around the middle; the shape was unlike any carrier Trent had ever seen. Despite its bulk, it did not appear to be heavy—her fingers curled easily around the handle as if it were a Styrofoam lunch box.
Trent rose from his furtive bench in the corner of the park and followed her east on a now-recognizable path, as the people around him hurried to escape the city for Christmas weekend. He and Arianna were planning to leave the next day, but she had rejected his suggestion to stay in Long Island overnight, emphasizing the need to return to Manhattan for Sunday morning Mass on Christmas Day. Being fed her lies disgusted and even disappointed him, if he was honest with himself.
She was walking slightly faster now, as she had become more adept with her cane, but her pace was still below a comfortable walking speed, requiring Trent to maximize the distance between them. The rush hour crowd pounded the sidewalks, helping to obscure him in their midst. She kept walking east, crossing one avenue after another, with a purposeful stride and confident posture. It struck Trent as odd, despite her hampered gait, that she was considered handicapped: far from being a helpless woman, she projected self-sufficiency. Her attitude of strength seemed to negate her body’s weakness, and he could not deny that it endowed her with even greater beauty. A beauty that he now thought was undeserved.
They crossed Fourth Avenue, and then Third, Second, First, like a straight arrow through the heart of the East Village. As he trailed her, Trent thought about his most recent instruction, one that unsettled and excited him: to divulge something to Arianna so that she would feel obligated to return the confidence.
“It’s human psychology,” Dopp had explained at the office that afternoon. “She will think you are trusting her if you open up about yourself, and will feel compelled to do the same. Make her think you are bonding in ways that are private and exclusive to your relationship.”
It was a smart move, Trent thought, but one that required careful planning, and for now, he was at a loss. Better to focus on the present. Where in the world was she going? The farther east they walked, the more the streets were lined with decrepit buildings and stooped beggars. It was not a neighborhood Trent pictured Arianna frequenting, but she appeared unfazed by her surroundings.
At Avenue C, she turned left and out of sight. Far behind, Trent
