She shook her head. No. Was that even right? She couldn’t be remembering that right. She’d had the concussion and hadn’t felt like herself. Plus, she’d just been a kid—they were both kids then—and she’d been making out with him and they were drinking wine. Too much wine.
Besides, that was the old Bruce. This was the new. The new Bruce had already apologized for being a jerk in high school, blaming it on being shortsighted and immature. The new Bruce was responsible and caring and would never do anything like that. Right?
But now, looking at the simmering anger in his eyes, Elizabeth couldn’t be completely sure. Doubt blossomed in her brain, taking root like a stubborn weed, choking out the trust she thought she had with Bruce.
“No, I do, Bruce. I believe you.” She tried to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t quite. Elizabeth truly wasn’t sure she did, after all.
The next day, early in the morning, before Bruce was awake, Elizabeth snuck out. She wanted to talk to Robin before she was due at work. Somehow, she knew she was missing something. If she could just ask Robin the right questions, she could find out the truth.
On the way over, she turned up news radio and heard another report about Bruce. Jessica’s PR campaign was working like a charm. Two more celebrities had come out in favor of him, both of them women. He was fast becoming a more popular cause than climate change.
“Frankly, Bruce is the most honest, forthright, and socially responsible person I know,” said one of the actresses on the radio. Elizabeth remembered her for being a big fund-raiser for the American Theatre Wing. “I do think that once all the facts come out, he’ll be exonerated. It’s a shame that some people will do anything for a little fame or money.”
Elizabeth leaned forward and switched off the radio. She should’ve been cheering the woman on, grateful for the support for Bruce, and yet she just felt a little nauseous.
She turned down Robin’s street and pulled into a nearby space.
When Elizabeth knocked on the door, it took a few minutes for Robin to answer. She saw movement by the front curtain, as if the girl was peering out. She heard two bolts slide open and then Robin was at the door.
“Thank God it’s you, Laura,” she said, relief visible on her face. Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt about continuing the lie that she was Laura Christer, a counselor from Robin’s church. But if Robin had known Elizabeth’s true identity, she would have never opened her door—much less talked. “Hurry. Come inside.”
Robin ushered Elizabeth in and then glanced out the door right and left, as if double-checking to see if Elizabeth had been followed. Inside, the lower level of her town house was as shabby as Elizabeth remembered, and yet now it seemed even more in disarray. There were takeout containers littering the table and even an empty pizza box on the floor. Robin herself wore a pair of stained yoga pants and a worn sweatshirt, her hair up in a hasty knot on top of her head. She looked like she hadn’t left her place in days. It had the feel of a bunker.
The television was tuned to the news in her living room. Another actress—an Oscar winner—sat talking on some morning show.
“I know the truth will come out,” she was saying. “I’ve known Bruce Patman a long time. I know he’s innocent.”
Robin looked at the television and then back at Elizabeth.
“Everyone thinks I’m a liar,” she said, her eyes wide and bright, tears visible in them. “Even Oscar-winning actresses. Nobody is going to believe me now. They all just think I’m an opportunist. And…Laura…I’m so scared. I’m starting to get phone calls.”
“What kind of calls?”
“Reporters, I think. I’m not sure. They keep hanging up. I think they’ve found me.”
Elizabeth wondered if Andy, her colleague at the Tribune who was officially covering Bruce’s story, had dug up Robin’s name. After all, Elizabeth had found her. Andy could, too. Except a reporter would want to talk to her. Still, obviously someone had found her. The question was who?
“It’s okay, Robin. We’ll figure something out.”
“I just…I don’t know what to do, Laura. I haven’t left my house in days. I’m just…I’m scared. Really scared. If reporters find me, then maybe Mr. Patman, will, too. And after what he did…”
Tears brimmed in her eyes and then slid down Robin’s cheeks. She buried her face in her hands. Almost without thinking, Elizabeth laid a comforting arm on her shoulders. Instantly, Robin convulsed in sobs.
“It’s okay. It will be okay.” Elizabeth’s heart broke for this young girl who was so clearly frightened. If she was telling the truth, she was victimized not just once with the near rape but again with the public smear campaign. Elizabeth gave herself a mental shake. If she believed this girl, that meant Bruce was guilty.
And yet…Robin seemed so sincere. How do you fake tears like that? And the fear in her eyes was real. Elizabeth knew that. And she seemed so shaky.
Standing in the girl’s shabby living room, Elizabeth knew she wouldn’t be able to decide right now. Seeing Robin only brought up more questions than answers. She needed time to think. But she also knew she had to protect Robin. From everyone. And that meant Bruce, too.
Then she remembered the for-rent sign in front of a house near Robin’s church. She had enough money to cover the girl’s rent for a few months, and if she used her own name on the lease, no one would find her.
“I have an idea,” she told Robin. “How do you feel about moving?”
Chapter Five
Lila Fowler had been plucked, waxed, and spray-tanned to perfection. Her favorite stylist had worked her usual magic with makeup and hair, and she looked killer in her new Jason Wu micromini, so short that she was
