“What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Graham stared at me.
One horrifying possibility came to mind immediately.
Henry.
Had he done something?
Paid Graham?
Made some kind of arrangement?
My chair scraped backward.
“If somebody offered you money to date my daughter…”
Any trace of humor disappeared from Graham’s face.
“What?”
“If Henry promised you something…”
“Mercy, no.”
I stood.
“Then what deal are you talking about?”
“Oh God.” Graham rubbed one hand over his face. “That’s what you thought?”
“Tell me what I’m supposed to think.”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“Not here.”
“You don’t get to say
something like that in my house and then tell me not here.”
“I’m not talking about my relationship with Mari.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Graham stood.
“Come with me.”
I didn’t move.
He pointed toward the kitchen.
“Please.”
“Why?”
“Because if I explain it here, you’re going to think I’m insane.”
“I passed that point about 30 seconds ago.”
He headed toward the back door.
I followed.
Outside, the backyard was almost dark.
Only the porch light and a small garden lamp near Henry’s shed were on.
Graham walked toward the far end.
“What exactly did you do?” I demanded.
He kept going.
“Graham.”
“You’ll see.”
“I am not enjoying those words.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to.”
Then I noticed someone standing beside the shed.
A man.
For a second, I couldn’t see his face.
Then he stepped beneath the garden light.
I screamed.
“HENRY?”
My husband lifted
