I crunch on some ice. “Fine.”
“Temperature’s normal. That’s good.”
“Can she go home later today?” Mark asks.
“You’ll have to ask the doctor. He’ll be by on rounds in a few hours.”
After she leaves and the door clicks shut, Mark takes my hand and squeezes it hard. “I’m so sorry, Allie. I had no idea.”
“What happened? How did I end up here? The last thing I remember is being in the bathroom. Where’s Daisy?”
“Slow down. Daisy’s been arrested. Remember the private detective? Jon Block? When you didn’t show up at the meeting with Artie Zucker, we called him. Apparently, he had a tracking device on your car. He’s the one who found you and called the police.” Mark lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. “I can’t believe it. All this time, we trusted her. Why would she do this? Do you have any idea?”
I grimace. “I do. I’ll tell you everything. Just not now, okay?”
He nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Or that I doubted you.”
“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here. Where’s Cole?”
“He’s fine.” Mark takes a deep breath. “He’s still with Caitlin on the Eastern Shore. They’re coming back tomorrow. Allie, I would never have … The whole Bridgeways thing, I just—”
“It’s all right. Really. It’s over, right? And Dustin?” I think of him lying in our kitchen, our fire poker next to his head. I brace myself for the worst.
“Poor kid.” He winces. “He’s in surgery now, but there’s a good chance he’ll pull through.”
A wave of guilt washes over me. Dustin got hurt because of me. “It’s my fault.”
“No. Don’t say that. None of this was your fault.”
Tears fill my eyes. I don’t deserve his forgiveness. “I want to tell you everything, Mark, all of it.”
“Shhh. Tell me later. You need to rest now.”
I lie back, exhaustion overtaking me. Unanswered questions pop into my head, but I don’t have the energy to chase them down. As if reading my mind, Mark says, “Just go back to sleep. I’m here now.”
“Bad luck?” Detective Katz asks and shrugs. It’s the next afternoon, and he’s sitting in my living room, his long legs stretched out in front of one of those chintz chairs while Detective Lopez stands silently by the window. I am on the sofa, curled up with a blanket over me, hands wrapped around a cup of tea.
“Apparently,” Katz continues, “Daisy Gordon—or Margaret Cooper, if you will—had lived here without incident for twelve years. Until you moved in, that is.”
“And Rob Avery?” Mark asks from where he is standing at the mantel. “He was just collateral damage?”
“We’re not entirely sure,” Katz says. “Looks like there may have been some bad blood between those two about a real estate deal. We’ll know more as we investigate further.”
The mood is entirely different than the last time the two detectives were here, interrogating me. Detective Lopez is the one playing second fiddle, while Detective Katz peppers me gently with questions. They offered no official apology. In fact, they’ve made no mention of having been entirely on the wrong track. But I guess the fact that they believe me and that Daisy Gordon is in jail should be enough.
“I don’t understand how she did everything,” I say. “I mean, she’s not exactly a computer genius.”
“Apparently, she hired some kid from Florida,” Detective Lopez says from her spot at the window. We all turn to face her. “We’re still piecing it together, but he’s the one that created the fake Tinder and Facebook accounts. She fed him the information, including the photos, and he did the dirty work.”
“Will he be charged, too?”
Detective Katz shrugs. “It’s complicated. He’s a minor, and we’re hoping he’ll cooperate in the investigation. But we can’t say for sure. A lot of it depends on how helpful he is, like whether he can help the authorities recover the money from the reverse mortgage.”
I take a long sip of my peppermint tea. I’m still astounded at the myriad ways Daisy Gordon, or Margaret Cooper, attempted to destroy my life. Mark heard from a neighbor that Dustin made it through surgery and is expected to fully recover. He’ll be in the hospital a few more days; I plan to visit him tomorrow when I go to see Sharon. The doctor said my mother will be all right, but they’re keeping her for a few more days until her liver tests come back normal. The police told Mark that surveillance video captured Daisy visiting my mother at Morningside House, not once but several times. Turns out Sharon was not imagining that some woman was out to get her.
I have a feeling it will take a long time to sort it all out.
“Is that all, Detectives?” Mark asks. “I think my wife has been through enough. She needs to rest.”
Detective Katz stands up. “That’s all for now. Of course, we’ll need you to come down to the station for an official statement sometime in the next few days.”
Detective Lopez glances at me as she walks by, no sign of remorse on her stoic face. I hear Mark open the front door and exchange a few words with them, although I can’t make out what they are saying. I am still groggy; it feels like I am recovering from the flu. The doctor said it would take another twenty-four hours for that much Ambien to leave my system. Cole comes running in and jumps on the couch. He bounces up and down.
“Whoa,” I say, putting down my tea on the table in front of me. “Easy there.”
“Can we curl up in your bed and watch Aristocrats?”
“You mean The Aristocats? That sounds good.” I can make out low, murmuring voices coming from the foyer. Is Mark still talking to the detectives?
“Can I microwave popcorn?” Cole asks. “I know how to do it. You put the bag in and just
