Skygods (Hydraulic #2) Read Free Page B

widened.
    Molly scooted over and I sat next to her on the sofa. Taking a deep breath, I launched into the tale of how Caroline had been the one to scrape me off the floor of the debauched brownstone where Samuel resided and offer the haven of her frilly bedroom. She’d called me Samuel’s “addiction,” and the idea hardened in my brain like one of his trilobite fossils.
    I stared at my hands, debating. “Molly, do you remember me telling you about the note Samuel left in my backpack, in New York?”
    She nodded, digging between the cushions for the remote and muted the television.
    “For seven years, I just assumed Samuel had written it. But now…I don’t know.”
    Her expression was rife with confusion. “Kaye, honey, why would someone else write the note?”
    “Maybe because they thought I was a burden. Maybe Samuel’s dad—”
    “No way,” Molly interrupted. “Alonso Cabral would never do something like that, especially to you and Samuel. But what if…” Molly bit her lip, unsure if she should voice her suspicions. “What if Caroline wrote it? You said she was there, right?”
    “See, that’s what I was beginning to wonder, but I didn’t know if it was just bias talking. Why would she do that, though?”
    Molly took another sip of wine. “Well, picture this. Caroline is miserable with Togsy, the magical loser fiancé. She sees Samuel is brilliant, handsome, and she’ll do anything to snag him. The only problem? He’s married, albeit, the marriage is shaky. So then you arrive and find him…you know. The perfect opportunity. He’s high as a kite; you’re passed out in her bedroom.” She grabbed a handful of popcorn and dumped it in her bowl. “She doesn’t think, she acts. She digs through the house and finds a sample of Samuel’s handwriting—maybe a Post-it on the fridge, notes from a class. Very carefully, she forms a note, mimicking his letters.”
    I got excited along with Molly. “Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “And Caroline’s a calligrapher. A very good one.”
    A groan interrupted our eager theorizing. “Now I remember why I don’t have any girlfriends—they screw up your head,” Jaime snarked. “The problem with your theory, niñas , is Cabral doesn’t write in calligraphy. Caroline’s an artist, not a master forger. Look, I get why you don’t want to think your boy toy wrote this thing. But now you’re making up a fairy tale with Caroline as the villain so you can vindicate the guy you love, plain and simple. Don’t be embarrassed, that’s the way women work.”
    “But you’re the one who told me Caroline was a manipulator. It makes perfect sense. She wanted Samuel, so she twisted the situation—”
    “No, she didn’t want him, not then. Remember, Caroline was engaged to Togsy at the time.”
    “That doesn’t mean she didn’t want Samuel,” Molly cut in.
    Jaime scowled at Molly. “I found an old engagement announcement in the Raleigh News & Observer featuring one Caroline Ortega and Lyle Togsender. They were childhood sweethearts, like you and Cabral. She proposed to him . She didn’t want Samuel. She wanted Togsy.”
    “But Togsy was a drug addict,” I fired back.
    “So was Samuel.”
    Ouch. That shut me up.
    Molly put a calming hand over mine. “Maybe she didn’t write the note, Kaye. Jaime’s right—as much as Caroline’s horrendous, we shouldn’t accuse her unless we have all the facts.”
    “But Samuel’s first instinct was that he didn’t write it.”
    “Of course he thought he didn’t write it,” said Jaime. “Put yourself in his place. You said he can’t remember what happened that night, and that’s got to be scary as hell. Seven years later, he suddenly finds out that hurray!—he didn’t screw that brunette woman you found him with. Now he’s going to question everything. You skip in and tell him he wrote you a note—something he hasn’t heard about until now. So he wants to believe that maybe he didn’t write it, that