Pretty Guilty Women

by Gina LaManna

  Henry was Lydia’s father. Sydney was on the run from him because, from the sounds of it, he’d horribly mistreated her. Emily looked miserably sick, her face pasty, hair stringy, while Kate stood next to her, cheeks damp with tears of silent rage.

  “I should have had the guts to do this ten years ago,” Emily said in the earth-shattering silence.

  “Emily, no—” Ginger shouted, but it was too late.

  The shot rang loud, an ear-shattering boom.

  Twenty-Nine

  Everything happened at once.

  The pergola lurched as Henry stumbled back against it. The frame wobbled, shook. Gauze whipped in a dance with the wind, tangling around the compromised structure. The flowers woven over the weathered wood trembled; petals spiraled to the ground. And then, in its entirety, the pergola began a steady descent as the supports crumbled beneath it.

  Elsie screamed, curling Lydia closer to her body as she hunched forward into a protective crouch, too close to the free-falling structure. If she didn’t move, Ginger knew, her daughter would be crushed.

  The bullet had wildly missed Henry. It’d lodged itself into the pole behind him, but the shock had startled Henry into taking the fixture down with the sheer brunt of his weight. Unfortunately, as he peeled himself off the trembling beams, he was prepared to act.

  While the floral-laden beams swayed and waned, bone-white against the moonlight, he hurtled through the chaos toward Elsie and the child. At the same time, Ginger flew toward her daughter. But she was a step behind, a little too late, a little too slow, a little too…

  Ginger could only watch as her daughter, her beautiful daughter, harnessed the baby against her chest. Elsie was prepared for Henry’s attack. She reached behind her for a bottle of wine and, as Henry neared her, she closed her eyes and swung at his approach.

  Elsie clipped him on the side of the head with a sickening crack, just as the pergola gave its dying breath. With one final gasp, the white fabrics billowed and wheezed, along with the entirety of the structure. Hundreds of pounds of splintered wood, boughs of greenery, and festive fairy lights shivered with anticipation. Finally, the support beams bowed their knees in surrender.

  Ginger could only watch as it happened. With a sharp inhalation, she realized it would land on Henry, trap him, if she did nothing. He was lying on the ground, dazed from the head injury. He struggled to roll over and Ginger leapt for him. But he was just too heavy, and his eyes were just too glazed, and she was forced to retreat. A piercing scream accompanied the swaying cracks of dying wood.

  The world paused, stilled, stalled.

  Then Lydia let out a cry, and time resumed.

  And with it, gravity.

  The pergola gave up, finished. Henry’s hands were an ugly red, coated by blood from the rapidly growing pool around his head. Ginger returned to his side, tried again to haul him out from underneath it all, but her attempts were futile. As she looked into his eyes, she knew it had come to an end.

  Ginger crouched to shield her daughter’s eyes as Henry took one last, guttural breath.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Ginger stroked her daughter’s face. “Did he touch you? Lydia—she’s fine. What happened?”

  “Mom, I’m fine—I’m fine,” Elsie said, shaking, pulling herself to a sitting position with Lydia pressed to her.

  From behind them came a cry from Lulu. “Sydney needs help! I’ve found a pulse! Someone needs to call her an ambulance.”

  “I’m calling now,” Kate said, pulling out her phone, a slight warble in her voice the only sign of a break in her efficiency. “Breathe, Elsie. It’s going to be okay.”

  “Oh my God.” Elsie’s face paled as realization sank in. “Was that really… Did I kill Lydia’s father? I hit him with the wine bottle, and he couldn’t get up in time… I… Mom…”

  Elsie let out a heartrending wail. The truth of what had happened was beginning to sink in, and fast. Ginger ached for her daughter, but there wasn’t time for emotions. She needed to figure out a way to keep Elsie out of this—for good.

  “Stop,” Kate said decisively. “He was a monster.”

  “It was self-defense,” Lulu called over. “I saw the whole thing. There’s no doubt about it.”

  “He wasn’t armed,” Elsie said. “Am I going to prison—”

  “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever, do you understand me?” Ginger clutched her daughter to her chest. “Elsie, this wasn’t your fault. It was my fault. I lunged for him. I’m going to confess to the police. This wasn’t your fault, sweetie.”

  “It was self-defense,” Lulu insisted. “There was a struggle!”

  “I am not taking the risk,” Ginger said firmly. “I’m not letting my daughter near this mess. What don’t you understand?”

  “I understand,” Emily said quietly. “But you’re not taking the blame, Ginger. I might as well have killed him. I shot the gun. I was just doing what I should have done a decade ago.”

  “Emily…” Ginger shook her head. “No. You were trying to save my daughter’s life—”

  “I was going to end my life tonight,” Emily said, “and nothing more. I would be dead now if not for Elsie.”

  “But I—” Elsie gasped. “If I didn’t knock him down, he would be alive, and—”

  Ginger shook her head, gaining momentum. “I could have saved him at the end, but I didn’t. Elsie is my daughter,” Ginger said fiercely, looking around, demanding the others understand. “I’m going to confess, and I need you ladies to back up my story. Just in case. I swung the bottle of wine at his head, do you hear me?”

  “Elsie, I need you to listen to me. You’re to take a shower,” Kate said briskly. “Get the blood off you. We’ll take care of this, honey. I promise. It’s what I’d want anyone to do for my daughter.”

  Either Elsie was in shock, or she was incredibly calm. Ginger could barely formulate a thought other than her need to keep Elsie out of this at all costs. Fragments of shattered information filtered through her brain, but nothing stuck. She wanted to listen to Kate and follow orders.

  “Where’s Sydney?” Lulu asked. “Wasn’t she lying there unconscious? And where did Emily go?”

  “Shit,” Kate said, resting a hand across her head as she glanced around at the newly vacated patio. “Elsie, did you hear me? You need to get out of here. Go find your father.”

  “But I’m the one who killed him!” Elsie cried.

  “Honey, you didn’t kill him. He was alive when I got to him,” Ginger said, her voice hoarse.

  “If anyone’s turning themselves in over that monster, let it be me,” Lulu called, returning from the courtyard where she’d been looking for Sydney. “Elsie is only a girl, and she’s going to need her mother by her side now more than ever.”

  “Elsie is my daughter,” Ginger said, her mouth feeling parched. “If anyone gets to take her place, it’s me. I have to protect her.”

  “I think I have an idea,” Kate said.

  Thirty

  Emily waited until the others had left. Shuffled inside to take care of Elsie, to carry out their little plan to save the girl. Not that it mattered; they wouldn’t need it. Emily should be the one to shoulder the weight of Henry’s death—alone.

  He lay beneath the pergola, the exquisite symbol of lasting love and commitment that had brought about a painful end to his miserable life. Fitting, she thought, feeling for a pulse while averting her face so she didn’t have to stare at his broken one. She didn’t feel remorse, nor did she feel sadness. Just complete and utter exhaustion.

  The emotions that swirled through her this weekend had swelled and built until she’d found herself drunkenly holding a gun to her head, and they now came hurtling back, stinging her eyes. Tears of tiredness, of sadness, leaked down her face, dripped from her chin until they mixed with the spatters of blood on the ground.


  The regret pounded against Emily’s skull in full force as she debated the what-ifs. What if she had stood up to Daniel when it was her own daughter in danger? What if that one action would have saved Julia’s life? What if it had been her daughter shielding Lydia, facing off with a fucking monster?

  Regret simmered, boiled, struggled to morph itself into rage. She’d slept with this man, allowed herself to be screwed by another woman’s husband. A woman as lovely as Sydney with a darling daughter, with so much to live for, with the potential for a family mere inches from his now-cold, dead fingers. Another man had used Emily, abused Sydney, and still had a daughter to show for it.

  Why should this monster get the opportunity to raise his daughter when there was no second chance for Emily? No matter how much she prayed, or how hard it hurt, or how desperate she felt, it would never bring Julia back.

  A sob racked Emily’s shoulders as her eyes clouded. She didn’t belong here, drifting amid platters of exquisite champagne and expensive flowers and luxurious pools… She belonged at home with her daughter, with the sweet scent of newborn shampoo mixed with the warmth of a sleeping baby against her chest, but no. Thanks to men like Henry, like Daniel, Emily’s life had been destroyed.

  And so had Sydney’s. The poor, young mother lying unconscious on the rocky ground, nearly murdered by her husband. If things had gone differently, that would have been Emily.

  That had been Emily. And as Emily raised her gun, she felt a sudden influx of déjà vu, of waking in the bathtub with a splitting headache and a lump the size of a golf ball. Of padding silently across the floor, dripping blood on the white carpets. Of reaching for her daughter and not hearing a breath…

  “He’s already dead.” Sydney’s voice startled Emily. “What are you doing?”

  Emily turned and found Sydney curled over herself, her hair matted with blood and eyes wide with frenzy. Emily couldn’t respond for the tightness in her chest as the image of Julia swam before her eyes. “I’m doing what I should have done for my own daughter. Her name was Julia.”

  Sydney met her gaze, and the two women shared a chilled look. Then Sydney nodded and closed her eyes.

  With a chest-crushing sob, Emily aimed the gun at Henry’s chest. And pulled the trigger.

  * * *

  Detective Ramone: Hi, Ms. Adler. Thank you for agreeing to join me here again. Please state your name for the record.

  Elsie Adler: I’m Elsie Adler.

  Detective Ramone: How old are you, Elsie?

  Elsie Adler: I’m fifteen. Almost sixteen.

  Detective Ramone: What brought you to Serenity Spa & Resort this week?

  Elsie Adler: My mom’s college friend is getting married.

  Detective Ramone: Thank you. Now, I understand you asked to see me.

  Elsie Adler: Yes, my mom doesn’t know I’m here. I’m supposed to be with my dad, but I snuck out when he went to the bathroom. He’s going to be super mad at me.

  Detective Ramone: Why did you sneak out?

  Elsie Adler: Because you should know the truth.

  Detective Ramone: What truth?

  Elsie Adler: I know you’re looking for a murderer, Detective, and the truth is—I killed that man. I’m the one who hit Henry on the head with the wine bottle, and I can’t stand that everyone is lying to protect me. I’m almost an adult.

  Detective Ramone: That’s very brave of you to come forward, Elsie. Please walk me through exactly what happened.

  Elsie Adler: Well, I went to the ballroom for the dinner party with Kate. She’s another college friend of my mom’s. Once we arrived, I went outside to see Sydney and Lydia.

  Detective Ramone: Do you know Sydney and Lydia well?

  Elsie Adler: Not really, but I helped babysit Lydia this afternoon, and I wanted to say hi and play with her on the patio. She’s very cute, and I liked them a lot.

  Detective Ramone: Okay, so you found them. Was it just the three of you outside?

  Elsie Adler: Yes, dinner had already started, so we were alone out back. We were just peeking at the pergola and all the pretty floral arrangements when he arrived. We probably weren’t supposed to be out there, but we weren’t doing anything wrong. We just wanted to look. Lydia liked the bright colors.

  Detective Ramone: Elsie, what happened once Henry arrived?

  Elsie Adler: Well, I was already holding Lydia. I heard a commotion and turned around, but by then, Sydney was already on the ground. She didn’t even make a noise. He was standing over her.

  Detective Ramone: Henry, you mean?

  Elsie Adler: Yes. Then the baby let out a cry, and he heard it. I tried to keep Lydia quiet and hide by the huge rack of wine bottles, but I couldn’t.

  Detective Ramone: I understand. What happened then?

  Elsie Adler: Sydney was bleeding a lot, and she didn’t move. I thought she was dead.

  Detective Ramone: That had to be very scary for you.

  Elsie Adler: Yeah, but I wasn’t even thinking about being scared. I was… I heard Lydia cry when her mom fell. It was like she knew. And I hid to protect her. I… Maybe I should have gone to help Sydney, but I think she would have wanted me to keep Lydia safe.

  Detective Ramone: I’m sure she would have wanted exactly that. What did you do after you got to the rack of wine bottles?

  Elsie Adler: I screamed. I thought someone from the party might have heard me, but I don’t think they did. Then, um… I think that’s when he…

  Detective Ramone: It’s okay, Elsie. What did he do?

  Elsie Adler: He pulled out a gun. I’m—I’m pretty sure that’s when it happened. Everything is a little blurry.

  Detective Ramone: That’s understandable. Did he shoot?

  Elsie Adler: No, he wanted Lydia. I figured he’d kill me either way after I saw what he did to Sydney, so I just reacted and held Lydia tighter. It was like I couldn’t let her go, even if I wanted to.

  Detective Ramone: Like I said, you were very brave. When you refused to give him the baby, what did he say?

  Elsie Adler: Um, I don’t really remember. Other things happened then. My mom was there, and her friends. I don’t know how they all got there, but then they started talking to Henry.

  Detective Ramone: Do you remember what they said?

  Elsie Adler: Bits and pieces, but like I said, it’s fuzzy. My mom tried to get Henry to go after her instead of me, but he didn’t. I think he already knew Emily somehow. There was a shot—but it didn’t hit him. It hit the pergola and startled Henry. Everything sort of sped up really fast and then went into slow motion.

  Detective Ramone: How do you mean?

  Elsie Adler: Well, the shot was so loud, and then Henry crashed into the wooden beams and the whole structure started to collapse. People started running and shouting, but all I could see was him coming after me. So I grabbed the only thing I could think of and swung at him.

  Detective Ramone: Toward Henry? And are you referencing the wine bottle?

  Elsie Adler: Yes. He had his gun out. I think he had it pointed at me. I don’t exactly remember, but I know I was terrified. I put Lydia against my chest and closed my eyes. And, yeah, I just swung. I felt it connect, and…crack. I was only thinking of Lydia. How is she? Will she remember this?

  Detective Ramone: Lydia is fine, and I’m sure she won’t remember any of it.

  Elsie Adler: How’s Sydney?

  Detective Ramone: Elsie, please concentrate. After you hit Henry on the head with the bottle, what happened?

  Elsie Adler: He went down, sort of limp, like he couldn’t really move. My mom went to help him, but the pergola was already going down, and then…he, um…

  Detective Ramone: Are you okay, Elsie?

  Elsie Adler: I feel a little sick. It landed on him. He was already bleeding everywhere, and then it was like the whole world stopped, and then wh
en it restarted, he wasn’t moving anymore. I think I killed him.

  Detective Ramone: Nobody else had any contact with Henry? Please don’t cry, Elsie. You were very brave for Lydia.

  Elsie Adler: My mom tried to help him, but there was too much chaos. He was just too big and too heavy to move before the beams crashed on top of him. That’s when they all decided to cover for me. Lulu because she is the oldest and has no children or anyone else to worry about. Emily because…well, I think she was very angry with him. Then my mom because, well, she’s my mom, and Kate because she’s my friend.

  Detective Ramone: Elsie, I have one big question left for you.

  Elsie Adler: Um, okay?

  Detective Ramone: You said that Henry pulled a gun on you.

  Elsie Adler: Er, yeah.

  Detective Ramone: That would make the case pretty cut and dry—self-defense, obviously. But there’s one piece of the puzzle I’m missing. Did Emily get the gun away from Henry at any point?

  Elsie Adler: Um, no. I don’t think so. I mean, I think she had her own. I-I’m pretty sure she didn’t take Henry’s.

  Detective Ramone: You’re sure?

  Elsie Adler: I think so. I’m pretty positive. They each had a gun. There were two. Two guns, I remember now.

  Detective Ramone: Unfortunately, Ms. Adler, I’m having a difficult time believing there was a second gun. Where would it have gone? You see, it wasn’t anywhere on the premises—at least not that we’ve found, and we’ve looked everywhere. So while I appreciate you telling me the truth, you’ll understand that I need to be sure you’re telling the full truth.

  Elsie Adler: I—Everything happened so fast. I’m not sure where it went.

  Detective Ramone: That’s the curious thing, isn’t it? I first thought maybe one of you women took it, but that doesn’t make sense. Without the gun, the case is a lot harder to prove self-defense. It’s in your best interest that we find the second gun. If there is one.