with black trim (Dana’s choice). Posters of rappers Beth had never heard of hung alongside characters from the Black Butler and Death Note animes and, of course, Sweeney Todd. Cookbooks, graphic novels, and spiral-bound notebooks covered every surface that wasn’t covered in clothes.
Dana was curled up in the middle of her bed hugging Cornie Bow, the stuffed unicorn with the rainbow mane that had been her best friend since she was four.
Beth hit the Off button on the speaker control. The silence was so sudden it left her ears ringing.
“I’m sorry,” said Beth. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”
Dana looked up at Beth just long enough to make sure Beth saw her red-rimmed eyes, then deliberately turned away.
“I’ve just had a really bad day.”
Dana shrugged.
“Was there something you wanted to ask me?” At the same time, Beth felt acutely aware of her phone in the other room. Dad might call back. Or he might put Mom on to do the dirty work.
Her phone might be ringing right now.
“Dana, listen. I want…I need you to be careful over the next couple of days.”
“Why?”
The lie came too fast and far too easily.
“You were right. That call—it was a thing with work. We had to turn a guy down today, and he didn’t take it well. He made some threats. So, if somebody comes up to you…” Dana had turned toward her again, and something in her bitter, surprised expression stopped Beth in midsentence. “Dana, did somebody talk to you today?”
“Lots of people, Mom.” Dana laced the words with scorn and literalism. “I’ve got friends, you know.”
“I mean a stranger. A man in a Cubs cap with a tattoo of a fan of cards on his left arm? A skinny woman, maybe in a flowery dress?”
Dana clenched her jaw, and her unicorn, and Beth knew she was right.
“What happened? Did somebody follow you?”
“What is with you?” Dana demanded.
“I told you. This guy is making threats!”
“Then why are you asking about some woman?” The contempt in Dana’s glare sliced straight through her. “You know, Mom, if you want me to trust you, you could try telling me, like, oh, I don’t know, the truth!”
“You could do the same for me.”
Beth stared at Dana. Dana stared back, her eyes, the green one and the brown one, equally sharp and furious.
“Nothing happened,” Dana said. “Nobody talked to me.”
What she meant was, If you’re going to lie to me, I’m going to lie to you.
Beth crossed the room she and Dana had created, and walked down the hallway.
You’re a coward, Beth Fraser. A total fucking coward.
Behind her, Dana cranked up the music again. The bass thumped against the walls and vibrated through the floor.
Clenching her jaw until her teeth hurt, Beth rounded the kitchen half-wall and went back into the living room. Her phone was still lying on the coffee table. She flicked through the screens to display the last incoming number, the one with the San Francisco area code.
There was no conceivable way her parents were in San Francisco. They’d bought or scammed the number because they knew that since her work was funding high-tech ventures, she’d be more likely to pick up a call from Silicon Valley. They’d been checking her out. Watching her while she was watching them.
And she hadn’t known. Until today, she hadn’t known a damn thing.
He answered on the second ring.
“Star! I’m glad you called back. We must have gotten disconnected there.”
His voice was rougher than it had been, but it still had all that laughing confidence she remembered. Dad was having a good day. She could picture him smiling and winking at her mother, who sat cross-legged on the bed, an unlit cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other.
“I’m assuming you want to meet,” Beth said. “Where?”
“And that’s how you talk to your old man these days?” Her father sighed. “Well, okay, Star, if this is the way you want to play it—” He paused as if considering. “There’s a little bar I found. Real old-school Chicago Irish on Eighty-Sixth off Ontario. Mike’s. Who knew they still made ’em like that, huh? I can—”
“I’ll find it. Noon?”
“No good. They don’t open until three.”
“All right. Three.” Beth hung up.
That was it, then. There was no more room to hide or to kid herself. Her parents were in Chicago, probably toasting each other with cans of beer and shots of vodka. There was something they wanted, and since they were better than the rest of the slobs and losers out there,