Jealousy

by Nancy Bush

  “Yes . . .”

  “But they wanted you, y’see. You’re the forever girl. I’m just the throwaway girl. And you were with Neil Grassley and Jerome Wolfe was with Brianne, and there was all this money, just waiting to be grabbed. I slept with Wolfe first. What a bastard. As soon as that was over, he was done with me. The thrill was gone. Brianne kept him coming around because he thought she was ‘interesting’ and he wanted her property. But I took care of that in one fell swoop. Brianne’s gone for good, so that’s done, and Mona won’t sell to him, so he loses.

  “But you . . . you got Neil to fork up some sperm, didn’t you? Got him to make a baby with your eggs!”

  “Neil came to me—”

  “You did it,” she cut Layla off, growing angry. “You. I heard all about it when I struck up a friendship with him. He was really kind of a lonely guy. You weren’t giving him anything. Not after you got what you wanted anyway. So, he turned to me. Some good conversation. Old Courtney just bent her ear and Neil poured his heart into it. I said, ‘maybe you need another baby,’ and he was like a kid in a candy store. You were such a bitch to him, so he turned to me.”

  “You used Neil and my embryos.”

  Her lips tightened and her eyes darkened. She’d set the open vial on the counter, but she still held the gun. Layla wasn’t going to let her force that deadly poison down her throat. There was no way she could make her.

  “You know Neil couldn’t get it up, so we had to. Use your embryos.”

  Layla’s brows lifted. Neil hadn’t had that problem with her. She was beginning to see that Courtney’s version of the truth was just that, a version. “I would never have agreed to that,” Layla said.

  “But you gave them away ... sold your little babies, and then you wanted them back. Boo-hoo-hoo. Poor Layla. Can’t hold a man. Can’t even have a baby.” She placed a hand on her abdomen. “But I can. I can have your baby.”

  “You lost it,” Layla said, dry mouthed.

  “Well, that’s what Neil thought.”

  “If you . . . kill me, you’ll get caught. It’s going to come back on you.”

  “It’s going to fall on you, dearie. You took the money. You killed Neil after he left you for me.”

  “He wanted to marry me. He told his lawyer. We were meeting this week.”

  “You’re a bad liar.” She laughed.

  Layla had been passive, quivering, unfocused, and scared. She couldn’t be that way any longer. She had to channel Lucy, think of what Lucy would say, Lucy would do.

  “I’m not lying,” Layla challenged. “Neil didn’t love you. He wouldn’t even have sex with you, and he could perform really well ... really well. He just didn’t want you. Like my brother ... and Jerome Wolfe.”

  “I’ve got skills you don’t know about,” she said, but Layla could tell she’d gotten under her skin. “I can steal all your personal data and sell it to the highest bidder. I can ruin you . . . I am ruining you . . . even before you die.”

  “But you can’t keep a man,” Layla said slowly. “Neil wanted me. Not you.”

  Courtney’s eyes bugged from her head with suppressed rage. “I’m going to shoot you right now! Like I did Brianne.”

  Heart thudding, knowing she was taking a huge risk, Layla grabbed up the vial and dumped it onto the floor.

  Courtney shrieked and lunged for the vial as Layla dropped it to the floor, where it shattered into pieces. She pushed Courtney as hard as she could. The other woman staggered, but she still had the gun.

  Blam! A round slammed into the fireplace, chips of stone flying through the room, the sound deafening Layla, who raced back around the fireplace to the living room. She stopped short, looked everywhere for a weapon, eyes stretched wide with fear.

  Courtney was screaming and then laughing and then screaming again as she barreled around the fireplace, full tilt.

  Layla met her with a swing of one of the brass candlesticks, connecting with a sickening thud in the center of Courtney’s face. Blood gushed from her nose, and Courtney squeezed off another shot. Blam! The bullet went wild, tore through Layla’s painting.

  Now Courtney was shrieking like a banshee. “I can’t see! I can’t see!”

  Layla lifted the candlestick again, ready to blast her to the moon.

  “I’m pregnant! Pregnant! You can’t hurt me. You’ll hurt your baby! I’ve got your baby!”

  She hesitated. She’d been about to slam the weapon into Courtney’s stomach. She saw that one of the chips of stone had lodged in Courtney’s eye.

  And Courtney lifted the gun, aimed at Layla, and fired.

  * * *

  “Gunshots!” Dallas yelled as Lucy cried, “Stop, stop, stop! Right here!”

  Dallas whipped into the drive of a newly constructed home on Cherry. Had to be the one. Had to be.

  Lucy scrabbled for the door handle. Struggled to get out.

  “Wait!” Dallas ordered as she leapt from the car.

  But she was running, running, running to save her sister.

  Dallas caught her at the door, pushed her hard against the side of the house. “Wait. Wait! I’m not losing you. Call nine-one-one.”

  “B-b-but Layla . . .”

  “Get back in the car. I’m checking the door.” The knob turned in his hand.

  Lucy stumbled away a few paces, scared, but then she turned back. She wasn’t losing him either.

  Crash. Dallas kicked the door against the wall. He ducked in a quick peek, then straightened. Muffled sobbing came from the house. “Layla,” he said, rushing inside.

  Lucy staggered after him.

  Layla was standing over a prone, red-haired woman who was bleeding profusely over the lovely tile floor and the fuzzy white area carpet, holding a candlestick like she was about to bludgeon her.

  “She missed,” she said in wonder, then kicked a handgun away from the woman’s convulsively grasping fingers, where it skidded across the tile and landed near the base of what was left of Layla’s painting.

  Epilogue

  Four days later, Lucy pulled her Outback up in front of Stonehenge’s gray stone walls. It looked nicer than the last time she’d been there, she thought, though maybe that was more a trick of warm sunshine and the sense that spring had finally arrived than any real change in the building.

  Evie bounced out of the car and ran for the door. Lucy heard squeals of delight and knew that Daphne, Kate, and Lyle must have beaten her here. They’d all agreed to congregate for Easter, Layla, too, bowing to Evie and Daphne’s pressure, though Abbott and Ainsley—whose ardor for Abbott had really taken a nosedive—had chosen not to come. That put Kate and Lyle in the master suite, while Lucy and Evie were tagged for the smaller bedroom in the north wing, and Layla would be across the hall from them. Given the state of all the bedrooms, musty and mildewed as they were, it hardly mattered. Maybe in the future they would be able to renovate, but for now it was enough to know they had ownership.

  Lucy hauled her bag inside and up the stairs to her room and then knocked on Layla’s door, surprised when her sister answered. “I didn’t think you’d beat me here.”

  “I caught a ride with Lyle and Kate. I almost drove, but ... I changed my mind.”

  “This isn’t the week for any more big changes,” said Lucy, eyeing her sister. Though Layla looked no worse for wear after her harrowing experience, the aftermath had created a hellish past few days. And there were decisions yet to be made. Courtney was taken to the ER to remove the splinter of stone from her eye, and during the checkup, after her insistence that she was pregnant, she was tested, and they all found out she was telling the truth. With confirmation from the IVF clinic, Layla learned the baby Courtney was carrying was hers, and Dallas was making a legal case for Layla to have custody. Meanwhile, Brianne continued to improve, much to everyone’s relief, and her mother, Mona Kilgore, having taken a fall in her distress over her daughter’s shooting, was in a knee brace but otherwise doing fine.

  “I guess you’re right,
” Layla said. “I’m already going to be a mother, twice over. I’ll start driving more later.”

  Lucy went into her room and began pulling out her toiletries, arranging them on the pine dresser. In a joint meeting she and Layla and Lyle had with September, Dallas, and Luke, she’d learned that Courtney had stolen Jerome Wolfe’s gun and tried to kill Brianne, who figured out she’d been the one who’d taken the mushrooms and was close to giving her up. They theorized that when John Linfield died, Brianne worried that Courtney was responsible, but she couldn’t figure out why she would kill Linfield, so she thought she was wrong. She called the Wharton County Sheriff’s Department to send the authorities looking for the right cause, and only later came to believe that Courtney had killed the wrong person.

  September was a detective with the Laurelton Police Department again, and she was someone Lucy thought could be a good friend.

  And then there was Dallas . . . Lucy and he had hardly been out of each other’s sight since they found Layla and Courtney at the house on Cherry. Evie seemed to accept Dallas as part of their new normal, although that might be because she was so focused on this trip to Stonehenge.

  There was a knock on her door and she opened it to see Layla.

  “Hey, again,” Lucy said, smiling.

  Layla’s eyes were shining. “Naomi called. She’s dilated to three and they think it could be anytime. Maybe even this weekend. I might have to leave before it’s over!”

  “Oh my God!” Lucy whispered, excited.

  “I know. I’m totally boggled. Can’t get my head around it. And I’ve gotta look for a new place tout de suite.”

  “Maybe Mary Jo will help you find something,” Lucy teased.

  “Mary Jo is never going to use me again after what happened to that rug. And the fireplace. And even the tile.”

  “She’ll get over it. Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

  “So am I.” Her smile slowly faded. “And for more blessings to come.”

  Lucy nodded. She knew Layla was thinking about the other baby due in about six months. “It’s going to work out,” she said, and Layla nodded.

  Lucy hadn’t been invited back to work at Crissman, and she didn’t expect to be. A long legal wrangle lay in all of their futures, but Dallas was confident it would all work in their favor in the end.

  “When’s Dallas coming?”

  “Soon. I would have come with him, but Evie was just crazy. These girls ... I hope they’re not disappointed. I mean, we love Stonehenge, but there’s not that much to do.”

  “Have you and Dallas been ... together yet?”

  “Haven’t really found the way for that to happen. Evie’s still on school break and with everything else . . .”

  “Well, Evie and Daphne are angling for that room at the end of the hall, so, if they go down early . . .”

  Lucy snorted. “That room’s in the worst shape of all. The leak two years ago stained the wall and no one’s fixed it yet.”

  “But it was the grand master at one time, long ago, and it’s chock full of old furniture and junk. A playhouse.”

  “And haunted, if you believe the lore. I don’t see Evie throwing a sleeping bag down in there anytime soon. As soon as it gets dark, she’ll be barreling back to my room.”

  “So, where is Mr. Denton going to sleep?”

  “I believe there’s a motel in Glenn River.”

  “If he gets drunk enough, he might have to stay,” Layla said pragmatically.

  “Why, I do believe you think I should sleep with him.”

  “I do believe you’re right.”

  She headed back to her room and Lucy walked to her window, which looked out upon the grand entrance of the lodge. Her eyes strayed to the southeast and the Kilgore property. She could almost pinpoint where the Kilgore house was, and where the big oak would be, but the thick forest of Douglas firs obscured everything.

  Sudden footsteps pounded down the hall from the north end, punctuated by high-pitched squeals and shrieking laughter. Daphne and Evie.

  They burst into Lucy’s room in a flurry, Evie clutching Lisa around the neck and Daphne her American Girl doll, Maddy. Both the beloved friends were bedecked in jewels of every kind, though there were rings falling off Lisa’s toes that Evie scooped up and tried to smash back on twice while Lucy was watching.

  “You gotta go for the necklaces,” Daphne declared, holding out her doll for Lucy to inspect. Maddy looked as if she were being weighted down and drowned by the jewels around its neck.

  “Where’d those come from?” Lucy asked, but her mind was on what Layla had said about Dallas. Should she invite him to stay? The rooms were fine, just more rustic than he might prefer, but maybe that wouldn’t matter....

  “Lisa and Maddy are going to a ball,” Evie declared grandly.

  “Yes,” Daphne said, chin in the air. “A ball with a prince and a carriage!”

  Kate appeared in Lucy’s doorway, frowning at the giggling girls. “What are you two screaming about? They can hear you all the way to Portland!”

  “They’re fine,” Lucy said. The girls had been in high spirits even before they demanded the key to the room at the end of the hall and raced each other to the door of the room used for storage. “They’re just playing with their doll and stuffed animal. . . .” Her eye drifted over the girls’ toys.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus ... !” Kate suddenly snatched Lisa out of Evie’s hands.

  “Hey!” Evie cried, affronted.

  “Give it back, Mom.” Daphne reached for Evie’s dog, but Kate held up a hand.

  Lucy, Daphne, and Evie all looked at her. She was staring at the plush dog. One of the rings slid off its leg again and dropped into Kate’s hand. It was a large, ornate gold band with a magnificent ruby stone.

  Evie yanked Lisa back, and Lucy stared at the gem in the ring, blood pounding in her head.

  “They fell out of the wall and that’s when we found them,” Daphne said anxiously, picking up on the vibe.

  “I found them,” Evie said. “I told you about them. That’s why we wanted to come back!”

  “Yeah, and they’re really, really valuable,” Daphne added, unknowingly parroting her mother’s know-it-all tone.

  “I think ... I think they really are valuable,” Lucy said in wonder.

  “Are they Edwina’s?” Kate asked, her voice shaking.

  Lucy turned to her daughter. “Where did you find them exactly?” Lucy asked her.

  Reacting to her tone, Evie suddenly grew cagey. “In the wall . . .”

  “In the west bedroom where you’ve been playing?” Lucy’s pulse was beating even harder.

  Evie was watching her mother, worried, trying to figure out what the correct answer would be. She nodded after a long moment.

  Lucy pushed out of the room and practically ran down the hall, with Kate at her heels. Layla’s door opened and she called after them, “What is it?”

  Lucy didn’t answer, just entered the room that was piled to the ceiling with desks, chairs, chests of drawers, rolled carpets, bedsteads, antique end tables, and more. “Show me,” she ordered, and Evie squeezed around her and led the way along a narrow path through the furniture to the rain-dampened wall.

  “This room is locked when people stay here,” Layla said from the hallway.

  “Right here,” Evie said, her voice warbling a little. She knew something momentous had happened but wasn’t sure how it was going to affect her.

  There was a hole in the wall, a wrench of wood and lathe that looked as if it had been torn open for further viewing, probably by the girls. Inside was a pouch of what might have been faded purple velvet, though it had torn apart and apparently spilled out the rings and necklaces the girls had wound around their toys.

  Lucy plucked another ring from the dust and debris. A diamond, dulled and dirty.

  “Who sealed them into the wall?” Kate asked. Lucy glanced behind her. Kate was now clutching her daughter’s American Girl doll, fingering a pendant necklace wit
h a huge amethyst.

  Lucy looked back at the wall, reaching farther past the torn pouch. “There’s something more,” she said, her hand touching something hard and pebbly. She grasped it, pulled it out, and stared at it. It was gray-white, grimy, and an odd shape.

  “What is it? A pearl?” Kate asked.

  “No. . . . Come on, let’s all get out of here and clean up. It’s filthy.” Lucy stood up abruptly and shooed Evie away. The rest of them followed her into the hall. “Who’s got the key to this room?” Lucy asked.

  “Lyle,” Kate said.

  “Let’s lock it back up.”

  “What is it?” Layla asked after the girls had gone on ahead. She and Kate were looking at Lucy as the three of them walked much more slowly back toward their rooms.

  “It’s a bone,” Lucy revealed. “Human. I’d guess a toe.” She drew a breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t think our great-grandmother ran off after all. . . .”

  * * *

  Dallas arrived about an hour later and Lucy pulled him aside toward the main dining room, which was cold and dark right now. She’d called him and told him there was something she wanted to show him when he got there, so now he asked, “Okay, another big secret? I don’t think this’ll top the last one.”

  “Well, maybe not, but this one’ll give it a run for its money.”

  Lucy led the way back upstairs, holding on to Dallas’s hand. Kate, Layla, and Lyle followed. They’d set the girls up with a jigsaw puzzle spread across the smaller kitchen table, and Lyle had found a claw hammer from a storeroom off the kitchen. When they got to the room, Lyle handed the hammer to Lucy, who dug it into the wet plaster at about chest height. The plaster fell away easily, and Lucy worked the hole until it was about the circumference of a baseball.

  Inside was a crumple of human ribs, the bones having fallen into rubble without the benefit of connective tissue keeping them together. There were scraps of clothing wound through the bones, blue threads, and in the middle of them, a puddle of dull green gems. The bottom of a jaw could be seen.

  “Edwina’s emerald necklace,” Lyle said; then, “He wouldn’t let her leave.”