Page 58 of Our Little Secret
“Well, you all,” Blair said, waving a hand in the air between them, her eyebrows raised high over the frames of her glasses. “You figure it out. I think I’ve got everything I need.” She zipped the small device into her satchel.
Brooke’s palms were beginning to sweat again, just thinking about what information the device could reveal; no doubt it had GPS tracking abilities and probably a memory chip or something.
“You don’t need the tracker,” Brooke said to the adjuster, trying not to panic.
“I think it might help. If there’s any data on this little bug, it could give us information about the accident. It’s actually lucky I found it.”
No, no, no!“But you have all the information. From the witnesses and the police report.” This was a disaster!
Blair smiled. Without an ounce of warmth. “Think of it as evidence, then.”
That thought struck Brooke numb.
Blair went on, “When it comes time to access responsibility and what happened just before and during the accident, you know, such as the speed at which you were traveling, from which direction? Who knows?” She shrugged. “It just might corroborate witness testimony if it comes to that and we land in front of a judge, which I hope we don’t.”
Brooke tried to tamp down her panic. “The accident wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Well, we’ll see. It might be that Mr. Gustafson will claim all kinds of physical and mental issues as a result of the accident, which he insists is your fault. It could come to big money.” Blair offered a cold smile as she patted the side of her satchel. “We might need all the ammunition we can get, so the data on it could come in handy.”
Brooke’s heart sank. “But that will have personal information on it. You know, where I go with my kid, doctors’ appointments, tutors and the like!” Frantic, she looked at Neal for backup.
“I’m only interested in the day of the accident,” Blair assured her. “Once this is all settled, unless the police require it, you can have it back.”
“The police? Why would they want it?” Oh Jesus.
“I don’t think they will.” Blair was now looking hard at her as if she were becoming suspicious, and Brooke felt strangled, all her fears knotting in her throat.
“Hey, don’t worry,” Neal said, though he too seemed serious, maybe a little concerned, the small tic near his eye appearing as it sometimes did when he was nervous.
Brooke’s stomach was in knots. Everything was about to fall apart! She would have to confess, tell him the truth, which he might already know.
Neal said, “Maybe it’ll help our case.” He gave Brooke’s shoulder a squeeze, a little harder than normal, just bordering on painful, then said to Blair, “I’ll walk you out.”
“No need. I’ll find my way.” She eased past him, then went to the top of the stairs, where she slapped the button that opened the garage door. As the tight space filled with the fresh air of the coming night, she hurried outside, her boots clicking a sharp tattoo on the driveway.
“I can’t believe this!” Brooke walked from the side of the garage to the staircase, then stopped and faced her husband. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Like I said, I didn’t think of it.” He shrugged, as if it were no big deal.
Should she be relieved? If, as he said, he hadn’t been tracking her—and that was a pretty big if—he didn’t know about her whereabouts, didn’t know she had been lying to him. But, on the other hand, if he was covering up, there was something deeper going on here. And it didn’t explain how Gideon had known where she was.
“I just don’t understand.”
Neal was walking toward the staircase as Shep reappeared and followed. “I’ve already explained it. It happened when I was still driving the Explorer. You remember. You had the PT Cruiser, right?”
That much was true.
“Anyway, so Bill comes up with the thing, and I thought—well, this is a little nuts, I guess, but I thought it might come in handy because our plan was that the Explorer is going to be the car Marilee drives someday, right?”
“Like in two years—four years from when you got the Rover?” she asked, closing the door to the yard and locking it.
“And that’s why I forgot about it.”
Shep had climbed the steps ahead of Neal and was scratching at the door to the house.
“Don’t let him do that!” Brooke called up to him.
Neal was already saying, “Hey, stop that!” as he let the dog inside and Brooke, worried that the insurance company might come for the car or reassess the damage, took the time to swipe her burner phone from beneath the cup holder and shove it quickly into her purse, still sitting where she’d left it on the passenger seat. She swiped up the bag and cursed herself for not getting rid of the phone earlier.
