“Can I ask what happened to Nat? Victoria mentioned a fire, but...”
“Oh, it was awful,” Charlotte said. “Nat wasn’t well so she decided not to come out with us one night when we went to a club. When she got home, she drew herself a bath and lit some candles, you know, usual stuff...”
“And the fire...?”
“They said she must’ve forgotten the candle in the bedroom. The draft blew the curtains over the flame, and by the time she realized, she couldn’t escape.” She shivered.
“Weren’t there any smoke detectors?”
“Yes, but not in the bedroom with the en suite, and both doors were closed. The alarm in the living room didn’t go off. Hugh blamed himself for that. He tested it about six months earlier but hadn’t checked more recently. Nat had noise-canceling headphones in the bathroom, too. They were a birthday gift from Victoria, so you can imagine how she felt about giving those to her. No wonder they ended up together, she and Hugh, with so much guilt between them.”
“Wasn’t it strange?” I said carefully, unsure how much I’d get away with. “I mean, them ending up together so soon after Natalie passed?”
“I can see why you might think so from the outside,” Charlotte said slowly, with a warning edge to her voice. “But to all of us, it felt natural and organic how their relationship developed. Hugh was lucky to have Victoria as a friend, we all were, and you can’t make judgments like that when you haven’t lived through it yourself.”
“No, you’re absolutely right. I can’t imagine. It must’ve been horrific.”
“Oh, it was hell. The police interviewed Hugh—”
“The police?”
“Yeah, isn’t it standard procedure when there’s insurance money involved?”
“There was life insurance?” I tried hard to keep my innocent look while my head wanted to scream at her that Hugh was a murderer. He was dangerous.
“Yeah, she’d had it for years. I’m not sure how much. Enough for them to ask questions.”
“But how would money have been a motive?” I said. “He came from a rich family.”
“Not really.” Charlotte glanced around, lowering her voice even more and I said a silent prayer to the gossip gods for bestowing her with such a loose tongue. “His father declared bankruptcy a month after Nat died. All Hugh’s inheritance—” she snapped her fingers “—gone. And when that happened, the cops hauled him in for questioning again. All that suspicion really hurt him, it was so unfair.”
“Because he had an alibi, thank goodness.”
“Oh, yes, and it was titanium. We were all at the club together. Victoria, Hugh, Malcolm and me, some of our other friends. There were at least ten of us who confirmed he was there all night.”
I hesitated, didn’t know how far or hard to push. “He’s lucky you were there for him.”
“Still, it was really hard. Victoria helped him through it all. So did her parents.”
“Her parents?”
“Yeah, Stan’s girlfriend died in a car accident when he was younger, and Madeleine supported him. I guess kindness runs in the family. Anyway, they were a rock to Hugh. He was distraught. Blamed himself. Couldn’t eat or sleep for months. In the end I’m sure even the cops could see you can’t fake that much grief for that long.”
Or could you? I wondered. It wasn’t impossible, especially not with cash on the line. He might have found out about his father’s bankruptcy well before it was declared, and decided his next move was to kill his wife. Had he increased Nat’s insurance, too? If he’d got away with murder once, wouldn’t it have bolstered his confidence, made him feel invincible?
“Anyway, Hugh found solace in Victoria,” Charlotte said, “and they’re such a great couple. He’s taking her on a Caribbean cruise after Christmas. She was telling me the details the other night. Hugh arranged it all. Can you imagine? Watching the sunset from the deck? Counting down the New Year? It sounds amazing. I wish Malcolm would take the hint, I’ve told him a thousand times I need a vacation and—oh, hi, girls. All set?”
As Daisy and Lily sat back down and Charlotte fussed over them, helping them decide how to decorate their pieces, my mind whirred. Victoria hadn’t mentioned the vacation, and while a cruise ship might be the perfect place to watch the sun go down, wasn’t it also the perfect place for an accident? Maybe Victoria would slip overboard. Go missing one morning as she went for a stroll on the deck, or after dinner, when Hugh could blame it on her having one too many nightcaps he’d plied her with.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew Victoria was in danger. Worse, she had no idea. She thought her only problem was a cheating husband. I had to tell her, had to warn her. I’d left the hospice when Dad needed me, ignored all the signs. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I had to do something.
“I have to go,” I said, jumping up, almost knocking the girls’ pieces off the table.
“Already? But we haven’t talked about the secret party yet.”
“Uh, yeah, but I got a message from Hugh.” I waggled my phone in the air. “Website emergency. I’ll call you later.”
Without waiting for her reply, I ran out of Crackle. My fingers stabbed at my cell, attempting to dial Victoria’s number as my brain debated what I’d say, how I’d tell her what I’d found out and, most of all, whether she’d believe me.
CHAPTER FORTY
VICTORIA DIDN’T PICK UP the first time I called. Nor the next, nor the third. I dialed and redialed. Hanging up each time I got her voice mail without saying a word. I sent her a text. PICK UP YOUR PHONE; another saying, NEED TO TALK; and still, no answer. I considered contacting the detective who’d called after I’d been mugged but couldn’t remember his name. Besides, what would I tell the police without sounding crazy? I had no proof, just a possible chain of stitched-together events, but that didn’t mean I was wrong. I tried calling Victoria again and, finally, after another half a dozen attempts, she answered.
“What do you want?” she said, and I frowned at her tone. She sounded angry—no, livid—even more than she had at my apartment the night before when she’d told me about Hugh.
“You were right,” I said as I ran down the street. I’d decided I’d give her some details on the phone, but go to her place and share the rest in person. “I found naked photos—”
“Oh, really? Print them off the internet, did you? As a diversion?”
My brow furrowed deeper as I tried to understand. “What? No, I need to tell you—”
“What? More lies about who you are and what you’ve been doing?”
Her words stopped me cold, and my feet refused to budge another inch. Oh, Jesus, no. She’d found out who I was. Stan had finally decided to tell her. She knew. My head threatened to shatter as I grappled with the knowledge, attempting to work out how to control the impending explosion, convince her my identity was irrelevant right now, how she could hate me later. In the meantime there were bigger things at stake, far more important ones we had to tackle, together.
“Victoria, I can explain. I’m coming over. We’ll sit down and—”
“Don’t bother. Because I never want to see you again. Ever.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to find out—”
The cold, hard sound of Victoria’s laugh bounced around my skull. “Sorry? You think saying sorry will make it all better?”
“What did he tell you?” I whispered.
“Hugh never told me anything.”
“Wait. Hugh?”
“Yes, Hugh. My husband. You two thought you were so clever, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what—”
“Why do you think I didn’t warn you he was on his way this morning? Because there was no point, was there? You already knew. You’ve probably been screwing him on your desk and making fun of me for being such a stupid, trusting bitch.”
&nbs
p; “But we never—”
“Stop it. I went through his briefcase when he was in the shower this morning,” she said, each word a poisoned dart flying my way. “I found them, Eleanor. I found them.”
“Found what? What are you talking about?”
“Your underwear! Your fucking polka-dot panties. You slutty bitch.”
“Victoria, wait. Whatever you found, they’re not mine.”
“You were wearing the exact same pair at the spa. What’s that? Coincidence?”
“They’re not mine, I promise. I’m not the one having an affair with Hugh.”
“I don’t believe you.” Victoria lowered her voice to a terse whisper. “All this time I’ve been confiding in you, sharing secrets with you, and you’ve been sleeping with—”
“I didn’t! I’d never do anything to hurt you. I found photos at his office and... I’m coming over. Stay—”
Victoria hung up.
I tried calling again, redialed over and over, sent a dozen messages asking her to pick up or call back, I needed to speak to her. When she didn’t reply, I sent another and another. I told her I was coming over. I’d stay until she opened her door. She had to speak to me.
All I wanted was for her to believe me, and this time, I’d tell her everything. The entire truth about who I was, and what I’d done, right from the start. The irony of it being me—a liar and a fraud—finding proof of her husband’s infidelities didn’t escape me. But I was her half sister, her family, and the thought made me stronger than I could’ve ever imagined. There was no more question about where my loyalties lay, something I had to make her see. Whatever she thought she knew about what I’d done to hurt her, she was wrong, and I’d make her understand. And afterward, if she never wanted to see me again, I’d walk away, providing she was safe. It would break my heart, but her well-being and her future were all that mattered. They were paramount.
As I went to hail a cab, Lewis’s number flashed up on my screen, and although I wanted to let it go to voice mail, the pent-up frustration inside me threatened to bubble over. There was no telling what I’d do if I didn’t let some of it out. I waved the cab past and picked up.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Eleanor? Are you okay?”
“I said, why are you calling me?”
“What’s the matter? Has something happened?”
“You know exactly what’s happened, you asshole,” I said. “You were seen.”
“Seen? What are you talking about?”
“At the bar, kissing another woman.”
There was a pause. Long enough for him to deny it, but he didn’t even try. “Don’t ever call me again,” I said. “Don’t stop by my place. Don’t contact me. Just...don’t.”
“Eleanor, wait, I didn’t know her, I promise. She walked up to me and—”
I let out a laugh. “Is that the best you can do? Honestly, do you think I’m that stupid?”
“I promise I didn’t—”
I hung up, willing myself not to cry. Why hadn’t I been more careful? Why had I let him into my heart and my bed, the latter of which would have lifelong consequences? I threw my phone back into my bag and continued walking, gulping in lungful after lungful of cold air. When I saw another cab, I flagged it down, jumped in and directed the driver to Victoria’s apartment, forcing myself to calm down. Her thinking I was having an affair with Hugh was a misunderstanding. We’d sort everything out, together. It would be the two of us again, just like we’d said last night, and, in time, it would be three.
When I got to her place and stood with my finger pressed on the buzzer, she wouldn’t let me in. Finally, after waiting and ringing on and off for three minutes, one of the other residents opened the front door and I pushed past her, bounded up the stairs, two at a time, banging on Victoria’s door with the palm of my hand so hard, one of her neighbors popped his head out of his apartment to see what the fuss was about.
“It’s me,” I shouted. “Let me in, Victoria. You have to let me in.”
“Enough,” she yelled when she opened up, and I thought she was going to punch me, but she let her hands drop by her sides. “I’m begging you, Eleanor, stop.”
“I didn’t sleep with him. Please, you have to believe me.”
She stood still for a second, looking at me, before finally stepping aside and letting me in, closing the door behind us. “You remember what I told you about the prenup? If it’s money you’re after, you’re screwed.”
“Stop. I have to show you something.” I pulled out my phone. “These are the photos I found this morning in Hugh’s office.”
She stared at them, then at me. “But that’s not you, it’s... Wait, that’s—”
“Genie, yes.”
“Oh, my God... Genie? I thought she had a crush on him, but—”
“Show me the underwear you found. Please?” I said. Victoria hesitated at first, then pulled out a pair of black-and-red panties from her pocket and I gasped. “These aren’t mine. They’re the same pattern as the ones I have, yes, but I don’t own a single thong, Victoria, and they’re tiny. Look. They’d never fit me.”
Hope spread across her face. “So...you’re...you’re really not sleeping with him?”
“No. No, I’m not. I promise. I’d never hurt you. Never.”
Victoria threw her arms around me, tears running down her face as her body started to shake. “I was so sure it was you,” she whispered into my hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” I hugged her tight, not wanting to let go. It was going to be all right, everything would be all right now. Finally I made myself pull away. “But we need to talk about something else. And we have to do it now. I found a life insurance policy letter.”
“For Hugh?” She blinked hard, wiped away her tears.
I shook my head. “For you. Did you know your insurance has increased to five million and he’s the sole beneficiary?”
Victoria shook her head. “No. No, that’s not right. It’s far less, and if we had kids, I think half would go to them. It’s what we agreed...” She covered her mouth with a hand before letting it drop by her side. “I signed a document about a month ago. He told me it was to do with my new business. I didn’t even question it. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t possibly—”
“Bell Hops is going under. It’s losing money.”
“What?”
“This is going to be really hard to hear,” I said, taking a step closer. “But I...I think he might be planning on hurting you, and I think he might have done it before, to...to Natalie.”
Her head snapped upward, and I saw the glimmer of something in her eyes. “What do you mean? What do you think he did to her?”
“The fire. What if it wasn’t an accident?”
Victoria stumbled backward, put a hand against the wall. “What?”
“I spoke to Charlotte—”
“My cousin?”
“She told me you were all at a club the night of the fire.”
“We were,” Victoria said. “All of us were there. Together.”
“But were you with Hugh all night?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? Could he have slipped out somehow?” I said, and when Victoria opened her mouth, she didn’t speak, but instead a pained expression slipped over her face. “You’ve wondered about it, too, haven’t you? You’re not sure?”
“It’s not...” She looked at me, and I watched as the final pieces of her life came crashing down. “When I went to the bathroom on the night...when...when...”
“The night of the fire? When you were at the club? What happened?”
“I...I saw him coming in from the service entrance,” she said. “He told me he’d gone out for a cigarette—that was when we still smoked—but...but it wasn’t until much later that I r
emembered...”
“What? Tell me.”
She shuddered. “He didn’t smell of cigarettes, Eleanor. But the fire was an accident. He said so. The police said so.”
“Did you tell them?” I said. “Did you tell them what you saw?”
She bit her lip. “He asked me not to...and I didn’t want him to get into trouble. But he didn’t... He wouldn’t hurt Natalie. I’m sure of it. He loved her. He wouldn’t.”
“What if he did, Victoria? And what if he wants to hurt you, too?”
“I don’t know... I don’t know.” She gasped and grabbed my arm. “Oh, my God, I called him, right after I hung up on you. I was so mad. I yelled at him, told him about the underwear and that I wanted a divorce. He yelled back at me, called me a bitch and worse.”
“Oh, Christ. What if he’s on his way home? We need to get out of here.”
“But where will I go? If I go to my parents, he’ll—”
“You’ll stay with me. Grab your things. Hurry. We can’t be here when he gets back.”
“Can you help me? Please? It’ll be quicker.”
I dropped my bag on the floor and followed Victoria as she ran to the bedroom, and I stood in the doorway as she pulled a suitcase from the closet and threw it on her bed, stuffing it with pants and T-shirts and sweaters, shoving them in without removing the hangers.
“Pass me some of my underwear?” she said. “Top drawer on the left.”
As I slid the left drawer open, my eyes settled on the SIG. “Victoria, your gun...”
She whirled around. “Oh, fuck, we can’t leave it here. Put it on the bed—we’ll take it with us when we’re done.” When I hesitated, she said, “Eleanor. Please. It won’t bite you. Pick it up and put it on the bed.”
I did as she asked, then handed her bras and panties while she fished out some shoes, frantically stuffing them into the case. “Eleanor, can you grab—”
“Victoria?” The voice came from the hallway. “Victoria?”
We were too late. Hugh was home.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Sister Dear Page 28
