Page 63 of One Perfect Lie

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“I’m angry at managed care, or rather, mismanaged care. I’m sick of being told what tests I can run, what procedures I can bill for, what drugs I can order, and which drug companies I can use.” Paul glowered. “So I found a way to get them back. I’m making up the money I would have been earning if they hadn’t been interfering with my cases.”

Mindy heard the self-pity eke into his voice and she began to grasp the implications of what he was telling her. “So what are you saying? You’re going to prison?”

“Yes. I’m going to make a deal, Min. I’m going to plead guilty. I’ll get twenty-two months.”

“You’re really going to jail?” Mindy felt incredulous.

“Yes, and the government is taking everything. Everything we own, everything in this room.” Paul gestured around at the furniture. “It’s going to be sold to pay the fines and make restitution. It’s being seized, the whole house, the cars, everything we own.”

Mindy felt her lips part in shock. Her hand went to her chest. Her heart thundered. She understood everything now, but she didn’t care about the house, the car, or the couch. The only thing that concerned her was Evan. “What does Evan have to do with this? You didn’t mix him up in this, did you?”

“No, he’s in the clear.”

“What do you mean ‘in the clear’? Why did he make up the story? What happened?”

“After I got the target letter, he heard me talking on the phone, trying to hire a lawyer. He overheard the whole conversation and he asked me about it. I didn’t mean for him to know. I thought it would never get this far, I didn’t think they could prove their case. I didn’t figure that Mike had turned into their partner, instead of mine.” Paul shook his head, clucking his tongue again. “And I was so good to that jerk. I took him into the group when nobody else would have him. He’s not that good a surgeon. He’s practically a butcher, I’m telling you—”

“So then what happened with Evan?”

“Well, I suppose I confided in Evan from time to time, and he wanted to know. He saw what I was going through, and believe me, he’s as angry about this as I am. He saw what they were doing to me.” Paul sipped his Scotch, draining the tumbler. “It’s been a nightmare, honey. You have no idea how much power the government has, and when it turns on you, you don’t stand a chance. Not a chance.”

“So you’ve been confiding in Evan all this time?”

“I needed the support, frankly.”

“Your son isn’t supposed to support you, you’re supposed to support him.” Mindy felt anger burn, like hot steel. “You shouldn’t have told him, you should have told me.”

“I didn’t want to worry you—”

“Stop lying to yourself. You didn’t want to face me.” Mindy controlled her temper. Paul didn’t matter anymore. Only Evan did. “So you let your son pay for your lawyer? You let your son take the rap for you? You let him lie to me? You let him hide what you did from me?”

Paul sighed heavily, shifting his gaze back to her, unfocused. There was no love in his eyes, nor was there any remorse. “I was about to tell you the truth, and if you think back, you’ll remember that. I started to tell you, but he cut me off and he came up with this crazy story about an abortion, and I thought, why not go along with it? But I’m going to have to plead guilty. So you’re going to find out sooner or later and you’re finding out. Sooner.”

“Where did Evan go?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea.”

“Is that really true?”

“Absolutely. Probably with his friends or one of his girlfriends. Our golden boy. He leads a charmed life.”

“Does he?” Mindy said, rising. She began to panic. It was dark and they hadn’t heard from Evan. She couldn’t imagine him driving around for so long, and he had to be shaken to the core. He had lied to protect his father, who didn’t deserve him. Or her.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Mindy’s brain began to function. This was too heavy a burden for Evan, or any kid. His life was about to come tumbling down, and his father was going to jail. He would lose his home. Everybody at school would know, his teammates, his friends, his teachers. “Did you call him? Or text him?”

“No.”

“Nice. Perfect. Great.” Mindy reached for her phone and read the home screen. She’d gotten some texts from some moms but the text that jumped out at her was from Evan. She hadn’t even heard it come in, maybe it came in when she was on the phone with Gloria Caselli. She swiped to read the text, which said:

mom, don’t worry im fine. call u asap. love u

“Min, did he text you?”

“Yes, he texted me, but he doesn’t say where he is or when he’s coming home.” Mindy took no comfort from the text. In fact, it worried her more. She called Evan again, but the call rang and rang then went to voicemail. She texted him.

call me asap please im worried about u

“If he texted, he’s fine. He’ll be home when he cools down.”

“I wonder if he’s with that girl, Amanda.” Mindy went into her phone, scrolled to the photo she’d taken of Amanda’s phone number, and called. The call rang and rang, then went to voicemail, a recorded message with a mechanical voice. She waited for it to end, then said: “Amanda, this is Evan’s mother. Is Evan with you? Please have him call me right away. If he isn’t with you, I want you to call me back right away. Right away!”

Paul called from the couch. “Min, who’s Amanda?”

Mindy didn’t bother answering, reflexively going to the window. Evan’s BMW was gone, of course. He could be with Amanda or sitting alone in a car somewhere, distraught. She scanned the street, but there was no BMW. The moon shone on McMansions, manicured hedges, and mulched beds of daffodils. Everybody had a new car and a basketball hoop, and they all recycled. Mindy mentally kissed it good-bye. She only wanted her son back.

Her mind raced. She prayed that Evan wasn’t running away. She looked down at the other texts and started opening them. Somebody had to know where he was.

Evan, where are you?



Chapter Forty-five

Chris worked in his home office, multitasking in high gear. He’d isolated the videotapes of the four suspects—Raz, Evan, Trevor, and Dylan—and was playing them. Their recorded voices echoed through the room while he reviewed the photos he’d taken of Dylan’s house. It was the way he always worked a case, immersing himself in the investigation, reviewing all the facts and studying each detail. Every time, something popped out at him that he hadn’t noticed before. He’d never been under such time pressure, but he performed better under the gun.


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