Death Before Facebook

arms together, and landed a blow to his left cheek that sent him reeling. He was three steps from her now; she couldn’t reach him, and she had no weapon.
    It occurred to her that he might hurl himself from the roof, and that was unacceptable. She was aware that she’d just tried to throw him off it, but it was only a dim cognizance, like a childhood memory of a person she used to be. Her whole being focused now on stopping him.
    She dived for him, and though the distance was greater this time, she’d judged it better. She brought him down just as a phalanx of cops burst through the door from the fifth floor.
    She heard his head hit the concrete and bounce, exactly as Geoff’s must have done.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
     
    IT WAS ENDING now, and it was all right. He’d done what he had to do. Looking at things in reverse order, Cole honestly couldn’t think of a thing he’d have done differently, given what his motivations were, and the events that came before.
    He’d had to kill Lenore after she made that stupid post about the diary. (Of course in the end, the book hadn’t had a single incriminating word in it, but how was he to know that? It was her fault for saying it did.)
    He’d done it rather elegantly, if he did say so. Writing the fake suicide note was brilliant, though perhaps the concrete block wasn’t. It did get the job done, and he thought it had a nice Virginia Woolf-ish quality, but he could see now that it might not be the sort of thing one might have done to oneself. It might have made the cops suspicious.
    Nonetheless, he had had to kill her. That wasn’t in dispute.
    Geoff was another matter. He’d loved Geoff.
    Well, actually, he hadn’t. He loved Marguerite and Neetsie. He knew exactly what love was.
    He had affection for Geoff, but not all that much. Besides, he’d always known something might happen, that somehow Geoff would remember something, say something, and he couldn’t be allowed to do that, because Marguerite had to be protected.
    Marguerite
.
    It was worth it.
She
was worth it.
    He hadn’t really been able to tell the cop about it because Kit was there, but it was like a fire, that first time he saw her. He touched her arm and his fingers got singed.
    What he felt for her was so different from what he felt for Kit, with whom he’d really made a marriage of convenience, it seemed in retrospect. He hadn’t thought that he was in love with her. Always nagging to have a baby, get a job, do this or that or the other thing.
    He was deeply, deeply in love with Marguerite, and yet it never once occurred to him he could be with her. He didn’t know what he thought; he guessed simply that he was married and that was that.
    After Leighton died, it didn’t occur to him that he could leave Kit now. That she had served her purpose and Marguerite was free. But then they’d moved away and eventually she had left him. He couldn’t believe it—she had left
him
.
    For the first time he realized he could marry Marguerite.
    But she was already remarried.
    And then years later, it turned out he had an opportunity to move back to New Orleans, and she wasn’t married.
    She’d responded when he sent her the ring from the faked burglary (as he knew she would), and they picked up the courtship again. They’d been blissfully happy until Kit stuck her nose in.
    The whole damn state of affairs had been caused by Kit. He’d just learned that last night. When he got Geoff’s diary.
    What it said was that Kit, who knew hypnosis, had offered to help Geoff with his memories. The blackmail notes would have started soon, Cole was pretty sure of that. He hadn’t asked her how successful they’d been with the hypnosis, but he knew the slightest little snippet would be enough for Kit. She probably suspected all along anyway; probably made the offer hoping to find out after all these years.
    You had to be careful with her, and he and Marguerite had been. He hadn’t lied when he said they’d never been back to the Terry apartment.
    But once they had made love at Marguerite and Leighton’s. Just once, because Marguerite really wanted to. She liked the danger, but that wasn’t what she said when she phoned.
    “Cole, come over, I’m desperate to see you.”
    “I’m on my way.” He wasn’t, of course. It was a game they played when they couldn’t see each other.
    “No, I mean it, I’m serious. There’s no reason why not. Geoff’s asleep and Leighton won’t be home for hours and