“Julian? Yeah, I did.” Sal’s dark eyes narrow. “Why?”
“McKenzie’s missing.”
He blinks. “Who?”
“The other woman Derek was … seeing.” It occurs to her then that she might never have told Sal her name. She only showed him McKenzie’s picture, the nude selfie, which used to be Marin’s iPhone wallpaper. It’s since been changed to a photo of her and Derek in Whistler. “She’s gone.”
It’s Sal’s turn to lean forward. “What do you mean, gone?”
“She hasn’t been home since yesterday. Her roommate posted something about it on Facebook.” She pulls out her phone and shows him Tyler’s Facebook status.
“You’re stalking the roommate now, too?” Sal squints at the screen. He needs reading glasses, like she does, but like Marin, he refuses to wear them.
“Of course.” She shakes her head. “I’d asked the PI to look into the affair, which in hindsight I shouldn’t have, considering I almost hired Julian to…” Her voice trails off, and she clears her throat. “She pointed out that there are now two people missing from Derek’s life. She says Derek’s the common denominator.”
Sal freezes. “So she’s still investigating Derek’s girlfriend?”
“She’s not his girlfriend anymore,” Marin snaps.
“Girlfriend, mistress, whatever.” Sal lets out a puff of air. “Jesus Christ, Mar. You were supposed to tell your investigator to back off. The last fucking thing you need is her poking around in Julian’s business.” He grimaces. “That’s never ended well. Trust me.”
“I did tell her. But she said she’d already started digging.”
“Is she pursuing the theory that maybe the same person targeted them both? Because of something to do with Derek?”
“Well, what else is she supposed to think?” Marin is upset, and her voice is sharper than she intends. She takes a breath, and softens her tone. “But it’s fine. For Julian, I mean. It’s not like the PI knows anything about him. She doesn’t know what I tried to do.”
“You didn’t try to do anything.” Sal says this forcefully. “You hear me? You met a friend of mine in a diner. You ate some food. The next morning, in a completely unrelated act of generosity, you donated a bunch of money to charity. That’s all you did, you understand? At least, that’s all anybody knows you did.”
“What about what Julian knows?”
“That guy won’t say fuck-all to anyone,” Sal says. “If I told you the number of people he’s laundered money for, you’d shit yourself. Names you’d recognize, too. He’ll never talk. It’s an honor code thing with those guys.”
“‘Those guys’? How many of those guys do you know?”
“A few.”
“Christ, Sal.”
He reaches across the table and grabs her hand. “Marin. You didn’t do anything, you hear me? Whatever happened to Derek’s girlfriend isn’t on you.” He thinks for a moment. “That day you stalked her at the coffee shop. You pay with credit card or cash?”
“Uh…” It takes Marin a moment to remember. “Cash. I dumped the change into the tip jar. Why? You think the police are going to question me?”
“Only if they know you were there,” Sal says. “But they won’t. Other than the roommate, who’s even looking for her?”
Marin’s mind is in overdrive. “You’re sure you told Julian that I changed my mind?”
“I’m sure.”
“And you’re completely certain he got your message?”
“Mar, there was no message. I spoke to him.” Sal rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed he’s being forced to explain it. “I told him under no uncertain terms that you didn’t want to proceed. Not gonna lie, he was irritated, said he’d already gotten a bunch of things in place. I told him to undo whatever he did. He said fine, but you weren’t getting your money back. I said you’d wait for the charitable donation receipt.”
She lets out a long breath, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. “Then what is all this? How can it be a coincidence that she’s gone?”
“I don’t know.” Sal shrugs. “And frankly, I don’t give a shit, and I’m surprised you do. She’s young, and probably flaky as hell. Maybe she hooked up with some other dude, didn’t come home, forgot to tell the roommate. None of this is going to lead back to you, so why worry about it? You wanted her gone. She’s gone. You’re back with Derek now, so it’s like she never existed, anyway.” He pauses, chewing his lower lip. “It’s like it never even happened.”
“Are you talking about them, or us?”
Sal doesn’t answer. He’s angry. She sees that now.