Chapter 16: Open House

I did not give the card back right away.

"Mrs. Harkness, what did you sign?" I asked.

She stood in the church hallway with her coat over her arm and her hair coming loose.

"A guarantee," she said. "Dillon told me it was only paperwork. If he missed a payment, they could take my house."

"And has he missed one?"

"He's missed all of them. He said the house in Dormont would fix it."

I looked down at the card.

"He's lied to both of us, then."

Her mouth trembled. It was the first time she had looked like anyone's mother.

"He said you were rich," she whispered.

"I clean teeth, Patrice."

I put the card in her hand and closed her fingers over it.

"Ask your son when the note is due," I said. "I'm going to ask him about the rest."

Dillon's open house was the next Saturday at a split-level in Mt. Lebanon, listed at four hundred and ten thousand dollars.

There was a sign on the lawn with his face on it. His dimple looked very proud.

Eli parked around the corner.

"Smile," he said. "You're a first-time buyer."

"I'm wearing scrubs."

"You're a first-time buyer on her lunch break."

My phone lit up as we walked up the drive.

Rafe, again. No text this time. Just a photo of a coffee mug on a loft windowsill, with a note under it.

Yours is better.

I almost typed back. I put the phone away and went through the door.

Twenty people drifted through the living room with paper cups. A tray of cookies sat on the kitchen island.

Dillon stood by the fireplace in his navy blazer, shaking hands.

He saw me, and the dimple disappeared.

A woman in a yoga top leaned toward her husband and said in a low voice, "That's him. That's the guy from the video."

"Which video?"

"The wrong chat. The wedding one."

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