The Next Wife

by Kaira Rouda

  I grab my briefcase, walk to my couch, and open my laptop. I have a new plan.

  I search the internet for the law offices of George Price and find it in Pineville, Kentucky. I call the number listed.

  “Offices of George Price. If you have a problem with the law, with the man, with anybody, we can help,” the receptionist says. “Hello? This is Mary? How can I help?”

  “Hello, Mary, my name is Mabel Johnson. I’m thinking of hiring Mr. Price for a legal case, but I need to be sure he doesn’t have a conflict of interest,” I say. I’m winging it, but I need to find out more about this creep. “Does he have a niece named Terry Jane or Tish?”

  “Oh, he sure does, ma’am, is that who referred you? They’re so close, it’s sweet. I think he looks after her like a daddy,” Mary says.

  “That’s so nice,” I say. There is nothing criminal about hiring your uncle to represent you, of course. My eyes glance at the signature page of the fake will. John’s name has been forged, obviously, but I look at the witness names. One of them is named Mary. Mary Loveless. My heart beats faster.

  “Mr. Price is out of the office today. Could I leave him a message?” Mary asks.

  “Is your last name Loveless, Mary?” I ask. “I have some kin down south with that last name.”

  Mary takes a moment. “How do you know my last name?”

  “Just a lucky guess,” I say. I look at the other witness signature: Sarah L. Byrne. “Say, do you know how I can reach Sarah Byrne?”

  Silence. I think she hung up on me.

  “Mary? Hello?” I hang up. She will be easy to find again if I need her. I look closely at the signature of the other witness. Mary acted so suspicious hanging up on me like that. For sure she knows Sarah.

  I do a Google search and bingo. Sarah L. Byrne is on Facebook, and she lives in Pineville. Her sister, Mary, loves to babysit Sarah’s kids. How perfect. The Loveless sisters should be easy to deal with. George didn’t search very hard for witnesses for the will. One is his only employee, the other, her sister.

  As I begin further research, there’s a knock on my door. It’s Ashlyn.

  “Hey, I’m glad you stopped by. I’d feel better if you went home for the day. Turn on the alarm?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Stop worrying,” she says. “Did Dad have a new will like Tish said?”

  “Supposedly. But look at this. This is not your dad’s signature. We’ve signed contracts together a million times. And these witnesses and the notary? Well, don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”

  “I know you will,” she says. “I do have a lot to do, so I’ll head out. See you later.”

  “See you at home, honey,” I say and turn back to my computer. I’m not leaving the office yet. I have things to do.

  I call Lance, who answers on the first ring. “I cannot believe I gave her the key to John’s office. I’m an idiot. I thought she was here to retrieve some personal items, but she’s sitting behind John’s desk right now acting like she owns the place.”

  “She is under the presumption that EventCo is half hers. It’s unbearable.”

  “John was better than this. He wasn’t thinking right.” Lance was John’s best friend at work, maybe in life, since there wasn’t much time for anyone else once Tish arrived.

  I take a deep breath. I have an idea, one that had been forming since John’s death but has become urgent now that Tish is squatting in John’s office. “I am going to buy more shares of EventCo. In the open market.”

  “I understand why you’d want to, but no one entity can purchase five percent or more without triggering reporting,” Lance says. I can hear the worry in his voice. “It’s a good idea, Kate, if you can find a way to do it. Let me know if you need my help.”

  I don’t need anyone’s help. “I have shell companies. I can handle the purchases through them. And under Ashlyn’s name. It’s totally legal, but I know it would look bad if it was revealed to investors.”

  Lance exhales into the phone. “Got it. I know you don’t want an SEC investigation. That’s the last thing we need.”

  I’m not stupid. Not when it comes to my money or my company. “The last thing we needed was Tish. But I hear you, I’ll be careful. What I need you to do is to keep an eye on the unhinged woman in the corner office.”

  “I will. Sandra is, too. From my office I can see Sandra watching Tish like a hawk. She’s working from the atrium, a direct view into John’s office. That will drive Tish crazy.”

  “If only that would scare her off.” If only. “Talk to you later. And let me know if the employees come to you. Tell anyone who asks this situation is temporary. And under no circumstances will anyone speak to the media.”

  “Got it. On it.”

  I work fast, buying a controlling share of my own company, just in case. At least I know it’s a great investment.

  Two can play this game. I stand up and stretch, roll my head from side to side. Only one of us knows what she’s doing in the business world, and that’s me. With the stocks purchased, I focus on the fake will in front of me. The notary’s name is Angie Ball of Columbus, Ohio. Her office is just around the corner from EventCo. Perfect. As I walk past her desk, Nancy asks, “Where are you going? You shouldn’t leave with that one still here.”

  “I’ll be right back. I just need some fresh air,” I say. “Call me if she tries anything. It looks like she’s just hiding out in John’s office.”

  I will not be outplayed. Never. Game on, Tish.

  CHAPTER 38

  TISH

  George has terrible breath, like stale cigar smoke and pickles. I’m standing next to him, and I’m dying.

  “I told your momma that she shouldn’t take any spam callers. I told her what we said all along. If she tries to contact you, I’ll take her house and everything she owns,” he says. His voice has lost all the southern charm he used when Kate and crew were in my office. “I suspect she’ll listen.”

  “I guess you can go then. I’m all set here.” I smile and extend my hand. “Thanks again for everything. Bill me. I’ll be in touch if I need you.”

  “This isn’t over, sugar. That woman isn’t going to just give up. She’s not as easy to control as your momma. And from the sound of it, neither is her daughter.” George shakes his head.

  I lower my voice. “Look, I’m a step ahead of Kate. Just go. I need to look like I’m standing on my own two feet here, so you lurking around isn’t helping. Stay away unless I call you. Get it?”

  “Sure. Got it,” George says. “You’re going to need me. Be in touch, sugar.”

  George pushes on the glass door, and I watch him descend the stairs. I hope everything is as he promises. I don’t want to need him again.

  Because the thing is, some people stick around unless you force them to go away. Maybe Kate feels that way about me, like she was finally finished with me after the funeral and then poof, I appear in John’s office. But you see, this isn’t really about Kate, not really. I’ve already won the Kate versus Tish match. No, this is about me. My needs. So I’ll stick around long enough for all of my stock shares to vest. Long enough to feel what it’s like to be a big-time executive. If I like it, I’ll stay for good. Power is sexy.

  And besides, it’s nice here. Not the work part, but the dressing up and coming to a spacious office and being the president part. That I think I will like very much.

  I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass door. Not bad. In the mirror’s reflection I see stupid Sandra is sitting on the atrium couch, and she’s still watching me. Whatever. Enjoy the view, Sandra.

  I wish I had someone to go to lunch with. That’s what executives like me do at this time of day.

  Behind Sandra, handsome Lance walks into the lobby. I wonder if he’s single. His dark skin glows against a white button-down and jeans. I’ve never dated a bald guy.

  “Hey, Lance,” I say as I hurry into the atrium.

  He sees me, and his face falls into a frown. “Why are you here? What
are you trying to do?”

  “I’d love to take you to lunch. Discuss the future. Explain everything. How about it?”

  “What? No. I have plans,” he stammers.

  Weenie.

  I ignore him and walk out the door. The adrenaline rush has subsided, and I’m beyond exhausted. But I need to keep up my charm today. Maybe I’ll go home for lunch, get a little rest, and then come back. That way, I can avoid Sandra’s never-ending stare. She’s been perched like a bird of prey watching me. And if I leave, I’ll look important. I have places to go, things to do.

  In the parking lot, I see Ashlyn. What a surprise. She’s standing next to her car just two spots down. “Hey, Ash.”

  Her eyes bulge as she shakes her head and slides into her car, slamming the door. I hear the sound of her lock, too. Of course the spoiled brat drives a BMW, white, fully decked out. She crashed her first BMW at school, so we got her a brand-new one. Because that’s what rich people do.

  I walk fast, but before I can reach her, she backs out of the parking spot. She stops a few feet away from me. Her driver’s side window glides down.

  “Tell me what you did to my dad. Did you put something in those margaritas? Maybe the same thing you used to get rid of your stepdad?”

  “What? What margaritas?” How would Ashlyn know about the margaritas I made in Telluride? I know how she knows about Ralph. My stupid momma.

  “Dad’s last night. You made him a big pitcher. He sent me a picture,” she says from the comfort of her car.

  She’s lying. He didn’t talk to her that night, did he? “What else did he tell you?”

  “Plenty,” she says. “I think I should call the police. I have enough to get them interested in you at the very least. A suspicious death in Kentucky, and now one in Telluride. I know you’re hiding something. Maybe a lot of somethings.” The window slides up, and she drives away.

  Ungrateful bitch. She’s acting like she has evidence of something. “Come back here,” I say to her taillights.

  I hop in my car and drive home on the side streets. I’m not following Ashlyn, of course, that would be weird. But I am taking a path that would lead me past her house. Kate’s house. I see her car up ahead. She called my mother, and she keeps threatening me. Digging around in other people’s business isn’t healthy. In fact, it can be dangerous.

  As we pass the country club entrance, dread runs through me. I’m not a country club kid, as you’ve likely realized. Ashlyn is the definition of one.

  I push the accelerator and pull up next to her at the stop sign.

  She looks like she’s seeing a monster, but it’s just me.

  I wave as she floors it.

  Such a scaredy-cat. She needs to be taught a lesson, and fast. As I follow her, I call Uncle George.

  When he answers I say, “We’ve got another little problem. You haven’t left the city yet, have you?”

  “I knew you’d need me, sugar. Let me turn around at the next exit,” George says.

  “I guess I do need you for at least a little while longer,” I say. “It’s Ashlyn. She’s out of control.”

  “Of course she is. She’s cut out of the will, her dad’s dead, and she’s got you for a stepmother.” George laughs as he talks. “What do you need me to do, sugar?”

  CHAPTER 39

  ASHLYN

  My hands shake as I call Seth.

  “She’s freaking me out. She’s following me. Can I come over?”

  “Sure, come now,” he says. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Be there in five minutes.” I try to think about my next move. Would the police even take me seriously with only a hunch and the photo my dad texted to my mom? There’s just something about how sloppy drunk Dad was in the photo that doesn’t make sense. He wasn’t like that. He’d just launched the biggest deal in his life. That is not how he would celebrate.

  Before he’d started drinking that night, he’d called me from the lobby of our Telluride condo building of all places. He told me a lot, but especially that he and Tish had another fight and it was over. He was deciding whether to leave Telluride that evening or stick it out one more night. He told me he loved me and that we’d be together as a family again soon. He decided not to bother the pilots and said that he’d be home the next day. When the elevator arrived, we said goodbye. He sounded sad, but otherwise fine when he called me.

  Whatever she gave him once he got to the condo, it hit him hard. I stare at the awful photo. His eyes are half-open, his face blotchy and swollen. It’s clear he’s sick. She had to know it. She had to be the one who did it.

  I stop in front of Seth’s parents’ house and check the rearview mirror. No Tish, at least not at the moment. I open my car door and step onto the street. I turn around in time to see her driving straight toward me. I freeze, waiting for impact. I see my life flash in front of me, my mom, my dad, Seth. I can’t breathe, and I hear a piercing scream that must be my own. I lock eyes with Tish, and she swerves away from me and screeches down the street.

  She’s gone.

  A voice in my head tells me to move. I run up the front walk and try the door. It’s locked. My heart races as I push the doorbell repeatedly and bang on the door.

  “Hey, it’s OK. Calm down,” Seth says, pulling the door open. I fall into his strong chest as he closes the door. “What’s wrong? What happened? You’re shaking all over.”

  “She’s after me,” I say as my teeth clatter. My breath is shaky, and I’m dizzy. “I’ve stirred her up. That means I’m onto something.”

  “Slow down. Who is after you?”

  “Tish,” I say.

  “Whoa. Let’s go sit down. Start from the beginning.” He pulls me inside and locks the door before taking my hand and leading me down the hall to the kitchen.

  “I called Tish’s mom. In Kentucky. She told me her daughter is dangerous, that she may have killed someone.”

  “What? That’s scary. What kind of mom says that to a stranger?” Seth asks, pulling out a chair for me at the kitchen table. “I take it they aren’t close.”

  “No, it sounds like they hate each other. It was eerie, talking to her. And then, when I told Tish I talked to her mom, she freaked. I’ve hit a nerve, that’s for sure,” I say.

  “Take some deep breaths. You’re covered in sweat. Let me get you some water,” he says.

  “Sure.” I try to calm down, but my body is on high alert, like I dodged a bullet but another is heading in my direction, and I can’t see it.

  “You need to stay away from her,” Seth says, handing me a glass of water. “Drink this.” He hovers over me, tucks my hair behind my ear. I begin to breathe a little like normal.

  “Thing is, I watched Dad and Tish at work this summer. They didn’t flirt anymore, no gross PDA like before. Dad told me they had a fight and he was leaving her, as soon as he got back from Telluride. My parents were flirting. This is all so weird.”

  “Did you know he was leaving Tish, before he told you? I mean, so what if they weren’t lovey-dovey? That goes away, I hear. And they had a fight, you said. Maybe it was the heat of the moment talking and they made up later, before he died.” He takes a seat at the table, too. I look out at the perfect backyard, much like my own. Nothing bad is supposed to happen here, to us.

  But it does. I’m still shaking. And I know I’m right. “No, they didn’t make up. There’s no way he was staying with her, and she knew it. She killed him.”

  Seth tilts his head. “We’ve been over this. Your dad had a heart attack. The coroner did an autopsy.” He gives me a quick hug, like I’m losing my mind.

  “She cremated the body, doesn’t that say something?” I wish I could convince him to see what I see.

  “It says she’s not a fan of caskets. Taking up all that space. I think it’s sort of green of her,” he says.

  I shoot him dagger eyes.

  “I know you miss your dad and you’re trying to find answers, but if Tish did something to him, the experts would hav
e found something. That’s what an autopsy is for,” he says. “You should stay away from her.”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re probably right. But I also know she’s hiding something.” I drop my head in my hand. No one is going to believe me.

  I feel his strong arm around my shoulder. “You know what you need? A little gaming in your life. Call of Duty. Come on. To my room. You need to calm down a little. You aren’t thinking straight. Let’s go kill some twelve-year-olds online,” he says. “It will make you feel better.”

  I can’t even get Seth to believe me. I need something more. I will figure out something more. “OK, fine. Let’s go kill some twelve-year-olds.”

  And after that, I’ll figure out if my stepmonster killed my dad.

  CHAPTER 40

  KATE

  I push open the door to a rather dingy mail supply store and walk to the counter. Dust covers the shelves where gift wrap and boxes should be.

  “Hi. I need something notarized. Do you have someone available?” I ask the woman at the counter. She wears thick glasses and doesn’t meet my eye. I almost repeat myself, but she flops a big ledger on the counter.

  “I’m the notary,” she says, flipping through pages without further comment.

  “Angie?” I ask.

  “Yes, that’s my name. What do you have to notarize?” she asks, hand out.

  The store is empty, and I’m glad for that. I pull out the copy of the fake will and slap it on the counter. “I don’t need anything from you, but I need you to know you notarized a fake document. You could be in very big trouble.”

  She glances at the document and sees her notary seal. She leans toward me across the counter, finger stabbing at her signature. “I simply acknowledge the document here, this last will and testament, was signed by this guy and these two witnesses in front of me. That’s all. Don’t you dare threaten me, honey.”

  “Do you remember these people?” I point to John’s name, and then to Mary and Sarah, the witnesses. “What about him? This guy? John Nelson?” A shiver runs through me as I realize someone had to impersonate my former husband. I wonder who that was? How did he have an ID that worked? And then I realize it was likely George Price. “Did this John have a southern accent and a potbelly? Was he wearing a fedora?”