by Caitlin Sara
“How unstable is she?”
“You just need to know there is a very dark side to her.”
Raina mumbled, I’ll talk to her before Arabelle hung up as quickly as she had called. Raina imagined what Ara would do if she found out her mother was spilling her secrets. In the beginning, when she first met her future stepmother, it was easy to see her relationship with her daughter was strained at best. Not every mother would speak so candidly to a near stranger about her daughter’s issues, but that never stopped Arabelle. Raina knew the only reason Arabelle was present now was to manipulate the coverage and her make sure her daughter didn’t ruin her reputation. She didn’t trust her to handle the Bugias and their publicity powerhouses on her own.
Raina quickly dressed, wondering how to convince Ara to speak with Barry Goldberg without screaming the obvious. She scrolled through her contacts before stopping on Lane’s number and quickly typed out a text message for him to call her ASAP. Within a minute, her phone was ringing. Raina cut right to the chase.
“We need to convince Ara to meet with her lawyer. I have a feeling she’s avoiding him.” Raina cut off Lane’s protests with, “My mother told me. Can you help? It’s for Ara, Lane.” Taking a play from Arabelle’s book, she hung up the phone before he could argue.
An hour later, Raina was sitting across from Detective Maro, warming her hands around a Styrofoam cup of burnt coffee. She had read once that precincts purposely keep interview rooms cold to make the subjects uncomfortable. Determined to play the part of a concerned stepsister, Raina had powdered her face and applied a neutral lipstick.
“What can I do for you today?” Detective Maro asked, tucking a few pages of notes behind the blank pages on his pad.
“There’s something I think you should know regarding Brad’s case,” Raina started.
“You two were lovers, I know,” Maro interrupted. “We subpoenaed his email and hard drive. We’ve learned a lot about you lately, Ms. Martin.”
Her mind ran through all of the things that could be in those emails. All the details they could reveal about her affair with Brad that the detectives could share with Ara. “Yes, Brad and I were involved. In love, I could argue. But Ara, she has secrets, too. He wasn’t the only one cheating, Detective.”
“Isn’t Ms. Hopkins your stepsister and friend?” Maro asked.
“She is,” Raina replied. “Which is why I am here. I need to know that she did not do this to Brad as much as you do, and I want you to either prove that to me and the world, or lock her up and make her pay for what she did.”
She could tell Maro was starting to get fed up with her family and the drama that came with them.
“Ms. Martin, I have to warn you that anything you say here can be used against you, or Ara, if it provides insight into a possible motive. Understand?”
“Yes,” Raina replied. “I understand. I’m not here to throw my sister under the bus or to implicate myself in a murder. I receive enough attention when it comes to this case, and at this moment, I crave privacy more than the spotlight.” While the statement may have lacked complete truth, Raina wanted their conversation to remain confidential. At least until the timing was right.
After all, she didn’t even know if there was definitely another person in her sister’s life, but there were only so many reasons to hide someone’s identity in your phone. Raina continued with her interpretation of Ara’s personal life, dropping hints at a possible affair with a man disguised as Danielle in her contacts, and if that was the case, there was the chance that the baby was not Brad’s after all. Holding nothing back, Raina also filled in the detective about Ara’s forty-eight-hour evaluation for severe depression and anxiety that she herself had a large part in persuading Brad to arrange.
Conveniently, she left out how it had been her idea to send Ara away in the first place so she could have time alone with Brad. Nor did she tell the detective that the professional conclusion from Ara’s visit was simply exhaustion. Hopefully the details of the web she was spinning came together to form a motive. And the mental instability a perfect touch to back it up. Or at least enough for them to look closer at Ara.
Maro glanced back at the notes he’d jotted down before saying, “Ms. Martin, I have to ask since you’re here. Did you have anything to do with the death of Brad Bugia?”
Unfazed by the question, Raina replied, “Absolutely not. I could never. Brad and I were two of a kind, you see. We loved each other very much.”
“I believe you,” Maro said. “But you have to realize you have as much of a motive here as Ms. Hopkins does. Maybe more. Maybe he told you about Ara’s pregnancy and you lost it. Maybe he didn’t want you anymore and you murdered him in cold blood because you couldn’t have him leave you and return to your stepsister, who you obviously have minimal loyalty toward, if any. As detectives, we have to consider all the possibilities.”
Raina stared back at the detective, careful not to shift her glance or feed into Maro’s efforts to throw her off. Why would she be loyal to Ara? What did Ara ever do to deserve a loyal stepsister? Raina’s life was just fine before it was uprooted to come save poor Ara. Arabelle and her father gave Raina everything that she wanted, and in return, she had them wrapped around her finger, until Ara’s father passed away. That was when she became Ara’s sidekick, always having to help her or do what was best for her stepsister.
“Brad Bugia was playing both his wife and you, Ms. Martin,” Maro continued. “I’m sure you know you weren’t his only side piece. Any one of you could have offed him. And don’t forget the sad possibility that he did this to himself.”
“Detective, you read the emails, did you not?” Raina said. “Brad was not tired of me. I don’t think he would ever toss me away, like a side piece.”
The detective nodded. “Would you like to write an official statement?”
“You know the answer to that. I asked for this to be confidential, Detective. You can see how this could be sensitive information if it got out to the public or even just to my family.”
The last thing Raina needed was Ara to find out about all of this and be out on the streets where she could confront her. Unless, of course, she already knew. Either way, she could not give her the opportunity to get back at her.
Maro returned with another pad and paper and slapped it down in front of her.
“If you change your mind. Please be as detailed as possible and try to keep it to the facts, the law requires more than speculation.”
As she stood to leave, she could hear Detective Maro on the phone.
“What’s your thoughts on the stepsister?” she overheard. “Well, she’s here making a statement. Apparently, family means nothing in Jersey.”
CHAPTER 25
Ara wanted to walk into Dan's office spewing confidence like a Victoria Secret model, but couldn't force herself to actually go through the doors of the building. They hadn't seen each other face to face in some time and had only spoken when he drunkenly texted her. And even those conversations became minimal over time as he had others to fill the gap she left. The older Ara got, and the more settled in life with Brad, she needed the doctor’s attention less and less. Not that it didn't feel absolutely wonderful when one of his well-written messages surprised her. Seemingly popping up every time her mind had given up on him. She could hardly imagine what seeing him in person would do to her.
Yet, Ara tousled her hair into her best beach waves, Dan not being one for a pin straight hairdo, and found an old pair of Converse Chuck Taylors in her closet and walked all the way from the Grand Central subway stop to his office. Only Dan would prefer a girl in kicks over high heels. The Lexington line could have taken her closer, but she thought the walk up Park Avenue would do her good. But even the Park Avenue charm couldn’t extinguish the growing pit in her stomach. She had to face the man that her heart had a hard time shaking, and for what she could assume was a conversation about her husband’s murder. How romantic.
The nerves wouldn’t
settle, and she found herself on a nearby park bench scuffing the mucky pavement with the soles of her sneakers.
Her phone vibrated, indicating a text message. Lane.
How's it going, the message read.
Ara quickly responded, maybe a little too quick for someone who’s supposed to have her knees spread and feet locked in stirrups getting her lady parts investigated.
Fine, I should only be a little while longer. Ara was starting to become uncomfortable with how easy it was for her to lie, but she would do whatever she had to keep Lane from finding out about Dan.
I'm out front when done. Fire lane. Didn't want you to have to take the subway back.
A now all-too-familiar sense of panic came over her. If only she could go back to the days when her biggest worry was staying at work late and missing a pre-registered spin class that’s cost wouldn’t be refunded.
Not knowing how else to respond she said, I'll be out in ten. Ara couldn’t remember telling Lane where the doctor’s office was. Actually, she was confident that she hadn’t, but who knew with her these days. Keeping track of the twists and turns to her everyday life was getting much more difficult. Was Lane picking up on her lies? Glancing diagonally across the street, she could see his undercover car sitting parked just over a block away in the fire line directly in front of the building she was supposed to be in. She could easily slip in the car and make it seem as if she had attended her appointment.
Hoping by some stroke of luck a gynecologist happened to rent space somewhere in the twenty-something story building shared with Dr. Dan, she gathered her things from the bench, straightened out her shirt and started down the street.
When she got to the car, the passenger door handle would not budge.
“You could have told me,” Lane said, leaning up against the wall in the building entrance behind her.
“Told you what?” She had to play it cool, what could he know about her relationship with Dan?
“I’m a detective, babe, it’s not hard for me to track someone down.”
She supposed that did come with the territory. It was easier pulling the wool over Brad’s eyes. Or maybe Brad just didn’t care enough to learn her whereabouts.
“I am sorry, I,” stumbling as tears began to build behind her Ray Bans, “I just didn’t think you needed to know.” She was going to have to tread lightly around Lane’s reveal to find out just how much he actually knew.
“I’m really glad you’re seeing someone. I’ve wanted you to see someone since it happened. You’ve been through hell. I don’t know anyone who would be able to deal with this shit on their own and especially without the help of a professional.”
Ara sat on the curb, her head falling into her open palms. This was all beginning to take a toll on her. Maybe she should be seeing someone for real. Unfortunately, her experience with Dr. Dan turned her off from seeking therapy. Lane sat next to her, slightly more scrunched in the space between the curb and car due to his six-foot-plus statue. He placed his right arm around her, pulling her in and kissing her on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, babe, I am so sorry this happened to you, and I’m so sorry I can’t fix it for you.”
Feeling like she had to tell at least a small portion of the truth to Lane she began, “I used to see Dr. Dan when I was younger. Teenage years. He helped me through some hard times after my mother left, and then my father passed away and, you know, he was there for me through all of that.”
“I know, I am glad you had someone you felt connected with that you could go back to.”
“I haven’t actually been back; I’m trying to force myself to go.”
Kissing her one more time, Lane said, “I could go in with you, if you want?”
That’s the last thing she wanted, but again, she lied, “Not today, but I’d like that.”
Comfortable in his arms, Ara tried to remember a time when Brad acted that selfless. She had loved that man with every ounce of her being but she couldn’t tell anymore if he ever truly loved her back. And if that was the truth, that hurt more than any affair he could have had.
“Promise me you won’t lie to me anymore,” Lane pleaded as he helped Ara to her feet and unlocked the passenger side door.
“Promise.” She kissed him before sliding into the seat, making a mental note that she would really have to thank him one day for worrying about her. Glancing up, she thought she saw Dr. Dan standing in the entrance. As Lane pulled out to take her home, she knew she’d have to figure out another way to have a visit with Dr. Dan.
CHAPTER 26
Back in his office, Dr. Dan slammed all the files from his desk.
If Ara hadn’t ditched their meeting today, he may have had a better idea of where things stood with her, what she had shared with the police. Then he could better navigate their investigation of him. Even if they did know their past, could they possibly know he had been following her and Brad? He was more than cautious—not even Ara knew, or she would have demanded he stop. He needed to get Ara to meet with him, so he could tell her everything he knew about that night.
“What’s going on in here?” Harley, his ever-loyal executive assistant, rushed in as quickly as her four-inch heels would allow, gathering the paperwork.
Dan sat with his back to his desk, nearly shaking with stress.
“Is this about the detective who’s been calling all morning? Are you in trouble?” She sat next to him, pulling her pencil skirt down to cover her upper thighs. Dan traced his fingers up from her bent knees.
“No, but a patient could be. You know how I feel about my patients.” Harley definitely knew—she had been a patient herself.
“Is there anything I can do to help you relax? You know I don’t like to see you like this.” Dr. Dan stood, facing her as she moved herself to her knees. Shaking his head, he picked her up in one smooth motion and placed her down on his desk.
“It’s your turn,” he said, pushing her skirt up, revealing a red lace thong. He pushed it to the side and began to return the favor from earlier this morning. Dr. Dan needed to do whatever it took to keep Harley in his corner right now. She could be extremely uneven; he didn’t need her turning on him.
CHAPTER 27
Other daughters may have been thrilled with a surprise visit from their mother who lived across country, but not Ara. She knew her mother was trying to catch her off guard, without any time to prepare. She often said, “You can tell a lot about a person when they’re on the fly.”
Arabelle had knocked firmly three times on the door and then stepped to the side, out of view through the peephole. Lane answered, dressed only in a white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of boxers. When he woke Ara up with the news that her mother was at the door, she put on a floral negligée, knowing her mother would never approve.
“I can see you two lovebirds aren’t even trying to hide it anymore.” Arabelle slammed her purse down on the corner table. “Is anyone going to offer me a cup of damn coffee?”
Lane, exiting for the kitchen, said, “I’ll put a pot on.”
“What are you doing here?” Ara said.
“Happy to see you too, sweetheart.” Sitting on opposite ends of the leather sofa, the tension between them was more than palpable.
“Jesus, Ara, act like you have some goddamn class.”
“That didn't take long, Mom. Thanks for stopping by. The closest bar doesn’t open until eleven, though I’m sure you have wine in your car. Shall I call the driver?”
“Relax, Ara, what do you want me to think with you acting like a whore? You rolling out of bed and greeting me in such a manner. It’s beyond disgraceful, the dirt has barely settled over your husband’s grave.”
Trying not to let on that her mother’s insults still stung, she chose a slightly higher road.
“Did Peter leave you, is that why you’re here?”
“No, darling, believe it or not I was coming to check on you. Hoped we could get brunch, catch me up on things. You know, mother-daughter things.”
“Lane and I were going to eat before my meeting today with Mr. Goldberg, which I’m sure you already know about.” Mimicking Arabelle’s tone, Ara said, “He’s just catching me up on things.”
“Lane does not have to take you. I'm here and he can go do whatever he does.”
“It’s his day off, and we spend it together. But since you’re here, brunch it is.” She stood and walked toward the back of the apartment. Lane appeared holding a single mug of coffee, presumably for Arabelle. Before he could ask questions, Ara said, “Let’s shower, babe. My mom wants to take us to brunch.” Looping her fingers through the belt buckles of his jeans, Ara leaned in and kissed him, selling the passion for her audience.
Arabelle cleared her throat non-apologetically, interrupting the scene. Lane handed her the coffee and said, “Make yourself comfortable.”
Once back in the bathroom and alone, Lane’s demeanor completely shifted, clearly unhappy with her stunt. “What the hell was that! Your mother now thinks I’m a pig.”
“Who cares what Arabelle thinks? I’ve seen her twice a year since I was a teenager. You’ve slept over here more often than that.” Ara was already undressed and in the shower.
“I care about us. And that probably means one day your mother is going to have to approve, don’t you think?”
“No, I do not think that’s what that means at all,” Ara said. She opened the shower door and pulled him toward her. “This already works. Just let me have some fun with my mother. Please.”
