Chapter 19

“I think,” Simon said, “we should talk about this in private, don’t you?” and waved a hand at the door.

Lisa’s mouth twitched again, but she nodded. They went back in, where Ben and Simon had just been collecting photographs and mocking her décor; Ben tried not to feel guilty about this. She was hurting Stephen, after all.

And she said, once the door had shut, “You were already here. Both of you. You found them. My photos.” She wasn’t, Ben judged, at all slow about assembling puzzle-pieces.

“Steve asked us to,” Simon said, still gentle. “Lisa—”

“And you did something.” She looked at Ben. “Whatever it is you do. I’ve heard some things, you know. Steve is a dear and loves to talk. I know it’s never been furniture sales, your job.”

“No,” Ben said. “It isn’t.”

“So now what?” She flung out arms; jewelry jangled. “You make me go away? You offer me money? Or something else? You ruin my life as revenge, is that it?”