Page 52

I buzz one more time and finally I get an answer back.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Nora, Autumn. Can I come up?”

There’s a pause just awkward enough that I might need to ask about it later, but for now, the door buzzes.

“Grab the elevator to the third floor. I’m down the hall to the left. Three thirteen.”

When the elevator doors open on the third floor, I catch a hint of mildew in the stale air. I’m surprised that this is where Autumn lives. With the way she carries herself, I always pictured her in some pristine, new building.

I find Apartment 313, and the door opens before I knock.

“Nora! Hi!” She pulls me into a friendly hug, which I only sort of return. I’m a woman on a mission now and I don’t have time to slow down. “Please, come in.”

The inside of Autumn’s apartment is exactly what I expected. It’s exquisite, even if the backdrop of the building is outdated. You can see every single curated choice, down to the potted lemon tree on her balcony.

“Can I get you some iced tea or water?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

We walk into the living room, and I pick a beautifully tufted bench to perch on across from the couch, where Autumn sits down. Then, I realize that I don’t really have a plan of what to do here.

“What’s going on?” Autumn asks, a slight edge of worry in her voice.

Time to ad-lib.

“I was surprised to see you at the office earlier. I didn’t remember there being anything on the social calendar coming before…” How do I even shorthand the last few weeks? “You know what I mean.”

“I was changing out the flowers. Fritz did ask me to look over an invite list for the trial attorney dinner that’s coming up.”

Right. Life goes on for the living.

“Listen, I don’t mean to be too forward, but I know you and Fritz are…Well, it’s none of my business, but I know that you’re…close.”

Autumn blanches. I have to be careful. I’m a sentence away from being thrown out of her apartment.

“I really don’t care, Autumn. I’m sure you heard, but people—mostly Ardell and some cable news demon—think I had something to do with Will’s murder.

I can’t let Will’s killer get away in all this noise, and I’ve got to find out who really did this.

And—” I pull the grainy picture from my purse—“I found this when I was cleaning some things out of Will’s office. ”

She stares down at it like I’ve pulled a weapon out of my bag.

“Nora, that picture was from a while ago. That’s over. It was short-lived and a massive error in judgment on my part. Please, please don’t tell anyone.”

There’s honest desperation in her voice, and it makes me a little sad.

“Will hired a private investigator to look into Fritz,” I say. “I suspect that is who took that picture—”

“Nora, you don’t think I had anything to do with Will—”

“No, but I think Fritz did. And I need to know if you know anything.”

Autumn’s clutching her hands so hard that her knuckles have gone from red to white. I know she knows something—will she tell me?

“Please—”

Autumn stands up and walks around the back of the couch, putting distance between us. If she could run, I think she might. Not because she’s guilty, though. It looks like she’s having a panic attack.

“Autumn, I’m sorry. I am not trying to upset you, but if you know anything that might help with this whole thing, I would really appreciate it. I got dragged into the police station the other day, and Ardell searched my house.”

“God, Nora. I’m sorry—”

I sit patiently and don’t press. If she’s going to tell me, she has to get there on her own. Whatever she knows, it’s enough to put her in this state. She comes back around the couch and sits in the chair closest to me, then leans in.

“The night of the party…,” she says in a low whisper. “The night of the party, I heard Will and Fritz fighting.”

“About the Martinez case?”

“What? No. Remember that guy, the night before the party…? The guy that ran into Carol’s fence?”

Dean Morrison.

“Apparently, there was some kind of chase going on. Fritz was trying to catch up to the guy in the Buick, but Fritz chased him right into Carol’s yard.

So at the birthday party, Fritz was on Will, demanding answers about why Will had him followed, and Will just kept asking Fritz ‘where all the fucking money went.’ It got pretty heated, so I left before they realized I was listening in. ”

My God.

Autumn knew all of this and told no one.

Even as Will was missing and when they found out he’d been killed.

Even as she was bringing me grief gift baskets.

In a flash, I see red. I feel such a deep sense of betrayal that I want to scream.

I want to flip her perfectly arranged coffee table display.

I know—I know —that getting mad at her won’t accomplish anything, but I still want to slap her.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? After what happened to Will? Why didn’t you—”

“Because I only overheard a few things—”

“Autumn—”

“No, Nora. Do you know how many secrets I carry about the people in this town? About the Halls? Do you have any idea how many things I hear or almost hear happen when people drink too much and it’s the end of the night?

Half the time, I don’t even know if what I hear is true, but I hear it all.

The affairs, the fights, the bounced checks.

Do you know how much I know because I plan the parties and I’m in their houses and they talk freely because I’m basically invisible to them?

I stay out of everything. I do what I have to do. ”

“So where does Fritz factor in?”

“Getting involved with Fritz was a mistake. A transgression I’d prefer to keep to myself.

We both stayed too late at a party one night.

” She sighs. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he can be really charming sometimes.

” She fidgets with the hem of her shirt.

“I understand how messy it sounds. But I try to stay out of all of it. Because these people will never be held accountable for anything they do. They hold all the cards. And I’m the only one who loses if I talk.

I’d be out of a job. They all know it. Discretion is part of my livelihood.

If I keep their secrets, I get to keep working. ”

It always comes back to money and power with these people.

I think about Andres at the club the day I met Will.

The day Mia was stealing drinks, and Andres wouldn’t lift a finger to help her, for fear of losing his job.

There are different rules at this altitude.

The people with the money and power always have the upper hand.

I hadn’t thought about how that affected Autumn.

But I understand now. She couldn’t do the right thing without blowing up her own life.

I feel a pinch of empathy for her. Just a little.

And I know she’s right about the power her clientele wield, but I also know I am going to have to convince her that this time, she’s going to talk.

This time, we’ll find the ace up the sleeve.