Triptych (Will Trent #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,104
talking about.”
“No,” he countered. “I don’t.”
She put her glass on the table by the mail. “What’s this?”
“I know you slept with him.”
“Real gentleman, that Michael Ormewood. Told you all the details, did he?” She gave a dry laugh as she thumbed through one of the stacks of mail he’d brought. “What fun it must have been for y’all to compare notes. No wonder the fucker was so happy this afternoon.”
“He didn’t tell me anything,” Will said. “I figured it out on my own.”
“Give the detective a gold star.” She lifted her glass as if to toast him, then took a long drink. He watched her throat work as she swallowed and swallowed until the glass was empty.
Will turned his back to her, looking at the painting over the mantel. It was a triptych, three canvases hinged together to make one image when it was open, another image when it was closed. He had always assumed she liked the duplicity of the piece. It was just like Angie, one thing inside, another out. Just like Michael Ormewood, come to think of it. What a perfect pair.
“Aleesha’s mail,” Angie finally noticed. “Did you just find this?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t Michael’s team check for it before?”
Will cleared his throat. “I don’t know.”
“Junk, junk, bill, bill.” He heard the envelopes slapping the table as she rifled through them one by one. “What’s this?”
Will didn’t answer, but then she wasn’t really asking him.
He heard her open the envelope, take out the letter. “Nice cross,” she said. “I remember seeing Aleesha wear it sometimes.”
He looked up at the painting, wishing it was a mirror that would show him what was inside of her. Maybe it was. Two abstract images, neither one of them making a bit of sense.
Will felt her behind him, her hand snaking into his jacket pocket. She took out his digital recorder. “This is new.” She was standing so close that he could feel the heat from her body.
He heard her fiddling with the machine and turned around. “It’s the orange button.”
She held out the recorder. Will saw that her finger was already on the button. He gently pressed his thumb against her index finger and the recorder came on.
“Thanks.”
Will couldn’t look at her. He turned back around, leaning on the mantel again. She returned to the couch and sat down. The ice in the glass made a noise. She’d probably forgotten it was empty.
“ ‘Dear Mama,’ ” Angie finally read. “ ‘I know you think that I am writing to ask for money, but I just want to tell you that I don’t want anything from you anymore. You always blamed me for leaving but you were the one who left us. You were the one who made me the pariah. The Bible tells us that the sins of the parent are visited on the child. I am the outcast, the untouchable who can only live with the other pariah, because of your sins.’ ” Angie told him, “She spells her name differently when she signs it: A-L-I-C-I-A instead of A-L-E-E-S-H-A.”
Will made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. She had to know that she might as well be speaking Chinese to him.
“She spells her name correctly—the more common way—when she signs it. She probably changed the spelling when she hit the streets.” Angie kept talking and he couldn’t stop listening. “Postmark says she mailed it two weeks ago. There’s a stamp that says they returned the letter because she didn’t put enough postage on it. I guess the cross probably put it over the weight limit or maybe it got caught in one of the machines.” She paused. “Are you going to talk to the mother? This zip code isn’t far from here, probably about ten miles. I wonder if she even knows her daughter is dead.”
Will turned around. Angie held the envelope in her hand, flipped it over to make sure she didn’t miss anything on the back. She looked up, saw him staring at her, and asked, “Will?”
He told her, “If I could snap my fingers and make it like I’d never even met you, I’d do it.”
She put down the envelope. “I wish you could, too.”
“What are you doing with a guy like that?”
“He can be charming when he wants to.”
She meant Michael. “Was it before or after you found out he was using the girls?”
“Before, you asshole.”
He gave her a sharp look. “I don’t think you’ve got a right to be angry at me right now.”