Page 61 of This is Why We Lied

Paul snapped his fingers. “Crossing Jordan.”

“That’s the one.” Gordon downed half of his glass. “Kathryn Hahn was in that. We love her.”

Sara assumed their original question had gotten lost. She took a sip of bourbon and tried not to blanch. Calling it turpentine was a compliment.

“Right?” Paul had noticed her reaction. “You’ve got to hold it in your mouth to get past the gag reflex.”

Gordon snorted at the double entendre. “I guess there’s none of that for the honeymooners tonight.”

“What’s Agent McSexy up to?” Paul asked. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s interested in giving him a statement.”

Sara felt a heat wash over her body as she thought about Will searching for Dave on his own. “Did either of you see Mercy after dinner tonight?”

“Oh, cop questions,” Gordon said. “Shouldn’t you read us our Miranda Rights first?”

Sara had no obligation to read them anything. “I’m not a police officer. I can’t arrest you.”

She left out the part about how she could give testimony as a witness to anything they said.

Gordon volunteered, “Paul saw her.”

Sara guessed that meant the Landry ruse was well and truly over. “Where was she?”

“Right outside our place. This was roughly around ten-thirty. I just happened to be looking out the window.” Paul held his glass to his mouth but didn’t drink. “Mercy strolled along for a bit, then went up the stairs to Frank and Monica’s.”

“Monica was probably asking for more booze,” Gordon supplied. “Frank said she left a note on the porch.”

Paul said, “Not sure how she managed to hold a pen. That bitch was pickled.”

“To Monica’s liver,” Gordon raised his glass in a toast.

Sara pretended to take another drink. She thought it was interesting that Paul knew where Mercy had gone. You couldn’t see Frank and Monica’s cottage from their windows. You had to actually walk onto the porch, which meant he had been tracking Mercy’s progress.

“So,” Gordon said. “What’d she look like?”

Sara shook her head. “Who?”

“Mercy,” Gordon said. “She was stabbed to death, right?”

“Pretty gruesome,” Paul said. “I bet she was terrified.”

Sara looked down at her glass. The two men were treating this like a reality show.

Paul asked, “Do you know if our hike is still on for tomorrow?”

“Hon,” Gordon said. “That’s a bit ruthless.”

“It’s also valid. We paid a fuckton of money to get up here.” He looked at Sara. “Any idea?”

“You’ll have to ask the family.” Sara couldn’t keep up the pretense any longer. She returned her glass to the table. “Paul, Will told me he saw the tattoo on your chest.”

Paul’s laugh sounded forced. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’s totally into you.”

Sara wasn’t worried. “I’ve learned in my job that every tattoo has a story. What’s yours?”

“Oh, it’s a stupid one,” he said. “A little too much tequila. A little too much melancholy.”

Sara looked at Gordon. He shrugged. “I’m not a tattoo person. I hate needles. What about you? Any tramp stamps you want to tell us about?”