by Nicola Marsh
I throw it out there, deliberately baiting him. He doesn’t react. My fear escalates to a bone-deep dread that I won’t like what I discover as I continue to delve into this murder.
“She’s your best friend and it’s her anniversary.” He shakes his head, judging me when he has no right. “After all she’s done for us… did for us,” he quickly amends, seeing my stricken expression. “It’s the least we can do.”
“Ris tried to facilitate an adoption for us, it doesn’t mean we owe her anything.”
I don’t mean it. I’m randomly flinging words out because I’m shaken. I need to escape, head home where I can have some quiet time to think and formulate some alternate scenarios to figure out Jodi’s killer.
I was convinced Avery would be the father of Jodi’s baby. It all fit so nicely. His propensity for affairs, his time spent in the city for work. He’d told me he had an alibi for the night in question but I’d wanted to wait for the paternity test results before blowing his alibi sky-high too.
Now, I have nothing. Nothing but a suspect I don’t want to interrogate standing right in front of me.
“Have you ever cheated on me?”
It’s the question I’ve been dying to ask since I discovered he could’ve fathered Jodi’s baby, but have been too afraid of the answer.
He staggers back, his eyes wide, like I’ve stabbed him. “Never.”
He doesn’t add, “I’m not you,” though we both know that aborted kiss with Griffin was an aberration rather than the norm for me. At least, it has been since we’ve been married. My conscience screams ‘hypocrite!’ considering what I’d done before we’d walked up the aisle.
“I’m not implying with Jodi, I mean any time.”
That’s not what I mean and he knows it.
“Claire, I’ve never loved any woman but you. I wouldn’t have gone through so much to have you in my life otherwise.” He drags a shaky hand through his hair and it spikes up in the endearing way I love. “I’m not proud of the lengths I went to with the fertility test. And I get that my lies have potentially ruined us. I understand that you hate me right now. That you think I’m some kind of monster.”
He takes a few steps forward, bringing him within touching distance if I’m so inclined. I’m not.
“But this is me, the guy who adores you. I would never do anything to hurt you.” He glances away, his expression pained, before he eyeballs me again. “And I certainly didn’t hurt that girl the way you think I did.”
I burst into tears, of relief or disbelief, I don’t know. He’s instantly there, enveloping me in his arms, holding me tight, comforting me.
It should be enough for now.
It’s not.
Thirty-Seven
Elly
I’m a consummate actress. I nibble on delicious salmon rostis and shrimp wantons, sipping my champagne like it’s nectar from the gods. While inside, I’m a seething mess.
My lover is here with his wife. She won’t be for much longer, not after I tell her everything. He seems to be comforting her. Always hovering, always attentive. He touches the small of my back as he passes once, as if to say ‘trust me’.
Yeah, right. He’s a lying, cheating bastard and is about to get his comeuppance.
It’s clear to me why he came to the medical center and gave me that spiel about how much he loves me and about leaving his wife. He thought I’d believe his crap. He thought I’d bend to his will.
When I didn’t, he blackmailed me into a horrendous breach I could lose everything over.
The kicker is, for a scant second when he’d been painting our rosy future I’d contemplated laying aside my retribution at all mankind and having another kind of life. The life I’d once dreamed of, before I’d been duped so badly. I’d envisioned having it all. The luxurious house, the sports car, the massive portfolio, the handsome husband. I’d built up an entire dream scenario in my head. Me, the woman who never wants to get married ever again, who’s abhorred the institution ever since I discovered mine had been a ludicrous farce.
I’d momentarily pictured myself in a white dress, a slinky satin number with a fishtail skirt, holding lilies tied with a crimson bow. My hair would be loose, curled to perfection, and my lover would be waiting for me at the end of an aisle, tears in his eyes.
Now, there’ll be tears for sure.
Thankfully, I hadn’t lost control of my faculties and had told him where he could stick his happily-ever-after fantasy. That’s when he turned nasty, leaving me no option but to do his dirty work.
Ultimately, I did what he asked because he threatened me. Because this no-good son-of-a-bitch said he’d tell everyone all about me.
He knew.
Everything.
About my marriage, my partial breakdown, my humiliation.
He’d hired a PI and uncovered my demons. So the bastard had blackmailed me and I’d had no choice. I don’t mind everyone knowing about my affair: my life in Gledhill is over once they find that out anyway. But falling prey to bigamy, my resultant breakdown and giving up my baby is information I want to keep secret.
Because I don’t need Ris and Claire’s pity.
I’d rather they hate me for the affair, I don’t want them grabbing at any excuse to forgive my shoddy behavior. I deserve to suffer.
As will my lover. Come the end of this party, I’m going to deliver my vengeance and it isn’t going to be pretty.
I bide my time. Making small talk. Watching him. He stays close to his wife. She seems rattled. She ain’t seen nothing yet. I wait until the last guests leave. By this time, my fury has swelled to monstrous proportions. But I channel it. No point giving him any idea of what’s about to unfold.
He blindsided me at work today and for the first time in a long time I felt fear, the kind of soul-sucking anxiety that everything I’ve worked so hard for can be taken away. By him. I can’t believe I’d been so foolish as to let him in a little, to actually feel something. He’s just like all the rest, only out for what they can get, oblivious to the hurt and havoc they wreak. I’m glad he likes surprises, because he’s about to get one he’ll never forget.
Claire, Ris and Maggie are chatting. Avery and Ryan are nowhere to be seen and Dane is getting the car.
I pray the barely restrained anger in my tone won’t give me away. “I need you to come with me.”
Claire, Ris and Maggie all turn, wearing matching confused expressions.
“Which one of us?” Ris smiles, the polite hostess until the very end.
I reach out and touch one of my friend’s arms. “You.”
Thirty-Eight
Marisa
My best friends are freaking out.
First Claire, now Elly. They’ve been flighty and tense all evening so I deliberately stay clear, giving them time to work through whatever’s bugging them. Besides, I have my own issues, namely what Avery is up to, announcing to our closest friends how much I mean to him.
I know why. It’s a business decision. Everything revolves around his precious company and with an international merger on the cards he needs his perfect hostess. I’m tempted to shock the hell out of him and call it quits anyway. But I’m not that woman. When I make a commitment, I mean it, even if I’m dying a little more on the inside with every passing day.
Only Maggie seems happy tonight, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. She’s luminous in a white sundress that sets off her tan, her coral-painted fingernails and toes the perfect foil for the simplicity of her dress. Ryan may be an overgrown child that she indulges most of the time but regardless of his faults, he makes her happy.
If my marriage is like traversing a minefield, I can’t imagine what theirs is like. Maggie has a fortune and seems completely oblivious to the fact that’s why Ryan probably married her. I’d overhead him talking with Avery once, virtually saying as much. It had angered me, until I witnessed the extent of Maggie’s cleansing obsession and what Ryan went through.
My sympathy had shifted then, because it can’t be
easy living with someone so unpredictable. By the glow she sports tonight, Ryan is doing something right.
Claire approaches me to say goodbye. She looks shattered, like the slightest breeze will blow her over.
“Thanks for a lovely party but we have to leave—”
“You don’t have to pretend with me.” I slip an arm around her waist and she leans against me gratefully. “Jodi’s death has taken its toll on all of us, but you most of all.”
She bites her bottom lip, probably to stop it quivering.
“At the risk of sounding like a broken record and asking for the umpteenth time, do you really think you should be investigating? I mean, if it’s too close to home…”
I trail off when her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You’re dealing with everything the best you can and I need to keep my big mouth shut.”
“It’s not you.” She blinks rapidly several times, followed by a few steadying breaths. “I thought I had it all figured out but turns out it’s not that simple.”
I glance over my shoulder. Avery is nowhere to be seen. “Did you find out more about why Jodi was researching you-know-who at the library?”
Her eyes widen. “He hasn’t told you?”
The ever-present panic simmering below the surface rises. “Told me what?”
Claire looks away and mutters, “Fuck,” as Maggie joins us, and Elly marches toward us, her beautiful features tight with anger.
“I need you to come with me,” she says, her mouth twisted with bitterness.
Claire, Maggie and I stare at her in confusion.
“Which one of us?” I smile, my famous soothing smile that can placate the most disgruntled client or guest.
She reaches out and touches Maggie’s arm. “You.”
Claire looks only too happy to be let off the hook before she can divulge what Avery’s been keeping from me. “I’ll call you,” she says, pecking my cheek with a brief kiss before doing the same to Elly. She touches Maggie on the arm.
Dane toots the horn outside and Claire bolts, leaving me with Maggie and Elly, waves of anger rolling off her and making me nervous. Elly’s posture is stiff, like someone has rammed a rod up her back, a vein pulses at her temple and her eyes are wild.
A small frown creases Maggie’s brow. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell you here. You need to come with me.” She snags Maggie’s hand and tries to tug her toward the front door.
Maggie’s gaze locks with mine. She’s nervous and I see her balk, so I chime in. “I’ve got a party to clean up and it’s late. Whatever it is you have to say, can it wait until morning and I’ll come too?”
“No.” Elly practically hisses, she’s that irate. “Maggie needs to come with me now.”
Her gaze darts every which way, as if searching for someone. “Right now.”
Her urgency is contagious. She’s starting to seriously worry me.
“Okay, I’ll come too. Let me tell Ryan and Avery we’re going—”
“No!” Her other hand shoots out to grab me and her manicured nails dig into my forearm so hard I yelp. “We have to go now.”
Elly’s desperate to the point of unhinged and I glimpse confusion mingling with fear in Maggie’s eyes.
“Is everything all right—”
“Shut up, Maggie,” Elly growls, tugging on our arms. I’ve only ever seen her this freaked out once before, the night she’d been drugged and raped, and I hate seeing my carefully controlled friend so rattled.
“Let’s go.” I grab my keys and cell off the hall table, expecting her to release my forearm and Maggie’s hand. She doesn’t, like she expects us to make a run for it if she does.
We reach her car but I don’t want to be a passenger, not when she’s this unstable.
“I’ll drive—”
“Fine. You two follow me.” She finally releases us and waits until I slip behind the wheel of my SUV and Maggie gets in the passenger side before making a run for her convertible, no mean feat in her towering stilettos.
I don’t care that Avery will wonder where I’ve vanished to. He can call me if he’s worried. I’m guessing he won’t. He’ll be too absorbed chatting up the caterers while they clear away to even notice I’m gone.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
Maggie shakes her head as I follow our circular driveway out onto Sunnyside Drive. “None. But it must be serious because I’ve never seen Elly act crazy before. She’s always so calm when I visit her at the center.”
She gives a short laugh. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be nuts, not her.”
I feel compelled to defend my friend, even though Maggie’s not being mean. “Elly’s been through some tough stuff.”
“Haven’t we all?”
Maggie’s response is soft and yet again I’m struck by how badly I’ve misjudged her. Lately, she seems more approachable, less critical, like she doesn’t mind spending time with me rather than attending family events out of obligation.
“Yeah, we all have trials to bear.” I follow Elly toward the highway. “Did you know about the renewing vows thing?”
“No. Though Ryan’s rather romantic when he wants to be.”
I refrain from asking if that’s the case why did my husband make the announcement for him. Then again, Avery does a lot of things for Ryan so it’s more of the same old, same old.
We lapse into silence but it’s not awkward for once and to my surprise Elly drives at a sedate pace, at complete odds with her manic behavior at my house. She turns onto the main highway from Sunnyside Drive and keeps to the speed limit for fifteen minutes. When she indicates left, we’re almost at a small gravel road that’s nowhere near her place, where I assume she’s been taking us.
I’m uneasy. This erratic behavior is out of character for Elly. She never lets the mask slip. She’s the most put-together person I know. I see past her shallow persona when most people can’t. Even Claire has a low tolerance for her at times. Which is why I make an effort to maintain our friendship. I know they think our monthly garden club is BS. But to their credit they turn up anyway, despite their constant bickering. Even though I’m only eight years older than them I feel like their mom sometimes, having to step in and referee.
I care about Claire and Elly. But Claire has Dane to look after her; Elly has nobody, which is why I follow her for several miles down the winding gravel road until I see a cottage. It’s perched on a small rise on the edge of the Atlantic. Elly pulls into a carport attached to the cottage, I park behind.
“Pretty spot,” Maggie says, unbuckling.
“Yeah,” I say, no closer to understanding why we’re here.
When I open the door, I hear the waves crashing so close I half expect ocean to lap at my ankles.
Elly gets out of the car and slams the door. She doesn’t speak as she slips off her stilettos and marches through the sand to the front door, which she unlocks with a key on her key ring.
“What is this place?” I call out, as she pauses at the front door, holding it open for Maggie and me.
“I believe you’d call it a love nest.” Her eyes are mean slits but her voice quivers slightly, as if she’s torn.
Confused, I enter the cottage alongside Maggie, immediately struck by its simplistic beauty. I jump when Elly slams this door too. When I turn to face her, she’s standing a foot behind us, trembling.
“Do you know what a love nest is, Maggie?”
Her toxic tone slithers over me, making me step back. Maggie’s nervous gaze, eyes round with panic, darts between us. I don’t like where this is going and when Maggie takes a step closer to me I’m glad I came.
“Why don’t you just say what you brought me all the way out here to say, El?”
I’ve never heard Maggie call her El. It alerts me to the fact they’re closer friends than I thought. Elly has mentioned Maggie drops by the medical center once a week to chat but I assumed that was more business oriented. Now I’m not so sure.<
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Elly’s face is blank, like she’s wearing an expressionless mask, but her lips peel back in a sneer. “Your husband leases this cottage so we can come here to fuck.”
Her crudeness shocks me more than her confession. It’s like she deliberately wants to hurt Maggie. Her friend. The woman I’ve been musing over how much I’ve misjudged. The fact Ryan’s screwing around behind Maggie’s back doesn’t surprise me. The old cliché springs to mind: monkey see, monkey do. He’s always idolized Avery and will do anything for his approval. I’ve suspected Avery’s affairs for years, considering his frequent absences and propensity to come onto women in front of me, so the fact Ryan does the same isn’t a shock.
But the fact one of my best friends is his mistress cuts deep. It’s a betrayal of the worst sort. Not because she’s lied to me all this time but because I didn’t see it coming.
Have I been that blind? Were there clues along the way? I scan my memory but come up empty. Ryan flirts with Elly the same way he flirts with every woman. As for Elly, she’s never been uncomfortable around Maggie, has never acted like she’s having an affair.
It makes me feel betrayed all over again, that I’ve been too stupid to see her for what she truly is: a lying, backstabbing bitch. I pride myself on getting an accurate read on people the first time I meet them. What a joke.
“Why are you doing this?” Maggie’s voice is steady, forceful, at complete odds with her pallor. I reach out and touch the small of her back, a show of silent support.
I glare at Elly, my lips compressed so I won’t blurt how disappointed I am and give her the satisfaction of seeing how truly devastated I am.
Pain glints in her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me, Mags, you’re far too trusting, which is why I brought you here to see for yourself.”
She drops her stilettos beside a low-slung camel suede sofa and strolls into the bedroom. I don’t want to follow her but Maggie does so I trail behind.
“I obviously shouldn’t have trusted you.” Maggie stops abruptly in the doorway and I almost slam into her back.
