felt compelled to share, in brief, her struggles with Maggie. For sure it all took more than the allotted five minutes, but Teresa didn’t complain.
“No surprise there,” she said in reference to Maggie. “It’s hard for a kid. It was hard for me.”
“You had a stepfather?” Nina asked.
“I wish,” Teresa said sharply. “I had four.”
“Oh.”
“Look, I know you didn’t come here for my advice,” Teresa said, “but I’m going to give it to you anyway, because you seem like a really sweet girl, and your husband was a real shit, so I’m going to give you my two cents and then I’ve gotta split. Time is money.”
“I’m all ears,” Nina said, leaning forward, catching that faint whiff of tobacco again.
“Make sure you really know this new guy of yours. Make really damn sure. I made that mistake with Chris, and it’s one mistake I’ll never make again.”
* * *
ON THE drive home Nina thought about Teresa’s warning. There were still things about Glen she didn’t know—why he’d lost his job, for one, if he had had other “flings,” for another. She’d come to the Moose hoping that insights into his choices would help her feel more comfortable with her own. Instead she left feeling an urgent need to get windows into Simon’s life. But how? His parents were gone. There was no extended family to contact. No place to turn for clues—or in Teresa’s words, to really get to know him—unless of course she went to Simon himself for answers. But hadn’t she done that? Hadn’t they talked, and talked, but did she feel any closer to an understanding? No, not really.
Just before reaching home Nina had a thought and brought her car to a stop in a strip mall parking lot. She used her phone to access a usually reliable source of information.
Google.
She had long ago googled Simon’s name, because of course she’d do that before bringing a new man into her life. What had come up was nothing remarkable: links to school-related matters, pictures of him in his Revolutionary War garb from the school website, articles about robotics competitions his team had won, and a few mentions of Emma Dolan’s tragic suicide on news and tribute sites. She had researched Emma as well, but had never looked into Emma’s family, because it didn’t seem relevant. But now she was realizing there was a hidden history there she could mine for information.
Again, she heard Teresa’s voice in her head, urging her along. Sitting in her car, she googled Emma Dolan’s name, searching for other avenues to explore. She read the obituary. There was a brother mentioned in addition to the parents, aunts, uncles, and husband she had left behind: Hugh Dolan. She googled Hugh’s name and got a number of hits from—of all places—the Manchester, New Hampshire, police department website, detailing his numerous arrests for drug possession. It did not take a lot of research for Nina to conclude that Simon’s former brother-in-law, Hugh, was a drug addict—heroin and oxy, according to the police logs she read.
He was also on Facebook. Nina matched a profile picture to one of his posted mug shots.
Before she knew what she was doing, Nina had sent him a friend request, with a short message introducing herself as Simon Fitch’s fiancée, because “girlfriend” didn’t sound serious enough. A moment later, Nina’s friend request was accepted, and a return message hit her Messenger in-box.
So you’re the one, Hugh wrote. We should talk.
CHAPTER 33
Glen felt sick to his stomach.
He had lied to his daughter. Deceived her. Tricked her. What kind of father would do that to his child? He imagined what people would say about him if they knew.
Should have given her obviously wrong answers, you idiot! Then she’d know something wasn’t right. She’d have gone to her mom, broken that promise she never should have made. They would have gone to the police and figured it all out. The police would have protected your family from Simon, and eventually they would have found you and freed you. You fool! You dummy! You dolt!
They could think that, but they’d be wrong. They didn’t live with Simon. They weren’t in the box. The box changed a person. It broke them in every way.
He was afraid. It was as simple as that. One wrong answer would bring the worst consequences. He saw blood. Gashes to Nina’s face, deep slashes across Maggie and Connor’s throats. He saw himself watching their deaths via a live video feed.