Like Mother, Like Daughter by Kimberly McCreight

Author:Kimberly McCreight [McCreight, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense, Thriller
ISBN: 9781405966450
Google: XK7ZEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0CRD6YK6W
Goodreads: 204746884
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2024-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

I crossed Fifth Avenue and walked a couple blocks uptown along Central Park, feeling thrown but also relieved. Doug hadn’t bribed Amherst—which meant he hadn’t lied to me. Still, this wasn’t necessarily the answer Darden wanted. Without any wrongdoing involving Advantage, Doug wasn’t nearly as convenient a scapegoat. Doug was still being blackmailed, though—I knew that firsthand. And it was theoretically possible that the blackmail had distracted Doug at work, that he’d made mistakes. I still found that hard to believe, but it was a compromise I could potentially accept—letting Darden scapegoat Doug, but allowing him to retain his fundamental innocence.

It was warmer now, a hint of spring in the air as I passed a cherry tree beginning to blossom. I dropped down onto a nearby bench. The fountains in front of the Met were rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. The water reminded me of that T. S. Eliot poem “The Dry Salvages,” which Reed had us discuss during the writing club. “‘Not fare well, / But fare forward, voyagers.’”

“You’re voyagers, too.” He’d gestured around the drafty, cavernous room with the windows that wouldn’t shut all the way even in December. “This place is only where you find yourselves right now.” And then he put a hand on my shoulder as he passed—only for a second. “You have limitless potential.”

The Met’s dancing fountain abruptly dropped then, its cycle complete. And, in the stillness, I had a clear view across the street. To the black sedan, parked alongside the hot dog vendor. Like that car in the Village that had sped away. Maybe like the car that had run Doug Sinclair off the road. And also like a million other cars.

I stood. But as I stepped forward to take a closer look, the car pulled away from the curb. And then, once again, it was gone. As if it had never been there at all.

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