The Cinderella Murder

35

It was barely seven o’clock in the evening, but Nicole was already at her bathroom vanity, washing off the heavy layer of makeup she’d worn for the cameras today. Gone, too, was her tailored black sheath dress, replaced with her usual ensemble of yoga pants and a hoodie.

When she was done patting her face dry, she opened her eyes to find Gavin’s image behind hers in the mirror.

“That’s my wife,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a kiss on her freshly scrubbed cheek. “You looked beautiful today, but I always prefer you like this.”

She turned to face him and returned his embrace. “I’ve never been beautiful. The makeup certainly helps, but I don’t understand how anyone can put up with all of that work every day.”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me.”

“Please, when you met me, I still looked like a dorky teenager. I guess I should be grateful now that I’ve always looked young for my age.”

Gavin was smiling to himself.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Telling that TV producer about how we met. It’s been a long time since I thought about that. We owe our marriage to that fake ID of yours.”

“I had that ID because of Madison. She got them for Susan and me so we could go celebrity-watching on the club scene.”

“I can’t even picture you doing that.”

That, Nicole thought, is because you never knew me when I was a follower. A lemming. The girl whose own parents knew she would get “lost” on her own. The one who started spending more time with the crooks at Advocates for God than with her own best friend.

“Are you done with your work?” she asked.

“Just a couple e-mails, and I’ll be yours for the night.”

“Sounds good. I’ll start dinner. Lasagna sound good?”

“Delicious,” he said, giving her another buss on the cheek.

He padded down the hall to his office, while she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. As she chopped some fresh basil for the pasta sauce, she replayed her conversation today with the television crew. Nicole thought that she’d done a good job talking about Madison, Keith, and Frank Parker, the three people who were truly under suspicion. But before they’d even spoken about the investigation, Laurie had launched all those questions about why Nicole had left college and moved to the Bay Area. She even seemed a little too curious about the fact that Nicole had given Gavin a fake name when they first met.

Did she know that Nicole had been using that fake identification for more than wine purchases after she fled Los Angeles? Did she already know about Advocates for God?

No, it was impossible. Nicole had never even spoken the words “Advocates for God” or “Martin Collins” since she left L.A. She was too terrified.

Maybe Keith Ratner had told the producers about Nicole’s association with AG. After all, she was the one who first introduced him to the racket. No one in Advocates for God would refer to it as a racket, of course. They called it a religion. They said they were committed to “good works.”

That was so long ago that sometimes Nicole had a hard time remembering when exactly Susan had started to feel so much animosity about Advocates for God. At first, Susan was supportive. Just like Susan had her theater activities and computer work without Nicole, Nicole was finding a new network of friends in what she had initially described to Susan as a “volunteer group” focused on “serving the poor.” But when Nicole began to advance farther into the circle-and began soliciting donations from wealthier students like Susan-Susan questioned the church’s ongoing demands for money.

It was the very beginning of spring semester, sophomore year, when Nicole told Susan that she had started seeing Martin Collins over the holiday break, not just as part of the group, but as his girlfriend. She expected Susan to be worried about the age difference: Nicole, having graduated early from high school, was only eighteen, and Martin was twenty-nine. But Susan’s concerns ran deeper. She said Advocates for God was a fraud. That Martin was lining his pockets with money meant for the poor. That he was enlisting vulnerable people to treat him like God. She said she felt like Nicole was slipping into “another world.” That she was “brainwashed.” She asked why a twenty-nine-year-old man would be interested in a college sophomore in the first place.

“How can you know anything about Martin when you’ve never met him? How can you judge AG when you refuse to learn anything about it? No wonder Martin says you’re trying to corrupt me!” Nicole had yelled. It was their very first argument.

But it wasn’t until Nicole invited Keith to join Martin and her at a revival that Susan truly became angry. Nicole had never seen her like that. Susan was always so calm, smiling like she was telling herself a secret joke or listening to her own private soundtrack. But that day, she was screaming at Nicole with such fervor that her pale face turned bright red, makeup streaking her cheeks. Keith needs attention from every girl he meets. First it was Madison. Now it’s you. But you’re worse than Madison. She’s a harmless flirt, but you had to take my boyfriend to your ridiculous Bible-thumping cult! What is happening to you, Nicole? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.

Even now, Nicole could not actually remember picking up her political science textbook and throwing it at Susan’s head. She just saw Susan freeze, her mouth open in shock. She remembered trying to apologize, but Susan wouldn’t calm down. “That’s it, Nicole,” she had screamed from the doorway. “I love you, but you either quit that cult or you’re moving out!”

It was the last conversation they ever had.

Nicole had fled the dorm, too, walking to Martin’s house, and then into his bedroom unannounced. He wasn’t alone. In that moment, Nicole realized why Martin had liked her in the first place. She had always looked younger than her age. But as it turned out, she was not quite young enough for Martin Collins.