by Sara Shepard
Danielle gave Aster a circumspect look, then revved the engine. Julia leaped into the passenger seat and shut her door just as Danielle hit the accelerator, and the car lurched forward. The Subaru swept past another vehicle pulling toward the house. Aster stared into the front window, but she couldn’t make out who was driving. A few of Dixon’s friends had gone to a local bar to celebrate; maybe someone was bringing them back?
Or maybe it was Foley.
“Faster,” Aster urged Danielle.
“Okay, okay,” Danielle said, an edge to her voice.
The night was calm and still. Mist swirled ominously and big droplets of dew covered everything. As the car turned onto the main road, Danielle glanced toward the backseat. “Where to?”
Aster exchanged a worried look with Corinne and Rowan. Rowan took a deep breath. “The airport. We need to get to the Boston bureau of the FBI.”
Aster pulled her lip into her mouth, still feeling prickly about involving Danielle in private family matters. But it wasn’t like they had much of a choice. They needed help now.
Danielle’s eyes widened. “Is it Poppy?”
Rowan shook her head as if to say, We can’t talk right now.
Danielle searched their faces, clearly confused. “Okay,” she finally said, lowering her shoulders. Aster wanted to throw her arms around her for so dutifully following orders.
Everyone was quiet as the car turned onto the winding road that bordered the sea. Aster touched her hand lightly to her lips, thinking about Mitch’s kiss. She wondered if she should text him, to let him know what they’d found on the surveillance video. But by now she was pretty sure that Foley was reading her texts.
They passed a spot in the bluffs that led down to the sand—the very place Steven had led Aster the night he died, where she got revenge on her father for having an affair with her best friend. She looked at the back of Danielle’s head, suddenly feeling a sharp nostalgia for the times she and Danielle used to hang out together. The last time they’d spoken, really spoken, was in this exact spot, the night Steven died.
Aster had remained on the sand after her father had shoved her and stormed off, needing to be alone. She’d rubbed her bruised arm, disgusted by her father’s behavior. He didn’t even seem sorry for what he’d done. It was like Aster and her mother didn’t matter—as if their family didn’t matter.
She’d heard swishing footsteps on the dunes and looked up, her heart lifting. Maybe her father had returned to apologize. But it was another face that appeared through the reeds. Danielle stood on the path, her hands at her sides, her eyes lowered demurely. She was wearing a striped beach dress and flip-flops, her hair loose around her face.
“Aster,” was all she said at first. “I am so sorry.”
Aster felt a sudden flare of anger and, underneath it, hurt. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest and stared at the waves. Sorry for what? she wanted to snap. For sleeping with my father, or the fact that I found out? Mason had probably gone knocking on the Gilchrists’ door and sent Danielle over. What had he said to her? Aster knows, maybe. She’s freaking out. Make sure she doesn’t tell. He’d sent his mistress to do his dirty work.
Aster stared at her old friend, her eyes blazing.
“Aster.” Danielle’s voice cracked. “Don’t you get it, Aster? You’re like a sister to me. I can’t lose you.”
Aster’s chin wobbled. “That’s why it hurts so much.”
Danielle took a step forward, but Aster retreated, throwing her hands up as a barrier between them. “Just go,” she whispered.
Danielle had hung her head. And then, sighing deeply, she’d turned and done just that.
The car went over a bump, jolting Aster back to the present. She blinked at the dark, foggy road in front of them. Something nagged at her brain, a tiny barb she couldn’t locate. She glanced at Danielle’s bright red ponytail in the seat in front of her, thinking.
And then she remembered. During her orientation, Danielle said she hadn’t been at work the morning Poppy had died. Food poisoning, she’d claimed. But now, given what they’d seen on the security tape, that didn’t make sense.
Aster’s palms began to itch. She leaned forward between the seats. “Um, Danielle? Did you say you were home sick when Poppy died?”
Danielle cocked her head, her gaze still on the road. “That’s right. I ate some bad sushi the night before.”
“How long were you sick for?”
Danielle met Aster’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “About a day, maybe two.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Corinne shifted her weight. Rowan looked over at Aster, but Aster kept her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror, waiting for Danielle to look up. “It’s just that we saw you in the surveillance video from the morning Poppy was killed,” Aster said carefully.
Danielle slowed the car ever so slightly. “That’s impossible. It wasn’t me.”
“It was you,” Aster insisted. Her heart was pounding at triple time. “It was your hair, your dress. I’m sure of it.”
“I was at home, sick,” she insisted. Danielle glanced at the women in the backseat, then at Julia.
Aster’s head felt as if it was splitting in two. All at once pieces began to fall into place, pieces that had nothing to do with Katherine Foley. Danielle knew Meriweather; she certainly could have had a key to the estate. Working in HR, she had free rein in the building, and access to all sorts of personal employee information. She could have simply knocked on Poppy’s door that morning, and Poppy would have let her in, thinking she had an innocent question. And then . . .
But why? Because Aster had rejected her? Because, perhaps, Mason had rejected her? Wasn’t it enough that they’d been together in the first place? Wasn’t it enough that Danielle had already gotten a job out of that affair?
“Seriously, I was nowhere near the office,” Danielle said again.
Corinne looked questioningly at Aster. Aster closed her eyes. Reality seemed to twist on its axis. She had no idea what to believe. She looked out the window at the foggy night sky, and a chill crept up her spine. They were on the bridge out of town—the very same bridge they had plummeted off a few weeks ago. The bridge where they had almost died.
“Stop the car,” she commanded. “Stop now.”
Danielle hit the brakes. The car skidded. Everyone screamed as they lurched to the left. The car slid almost to the edge of the bridge, but the brakes finally engaged, and they stopped moving. For a moment, everything was silent. Then Aster wrenched the door handle, desperate to get the hell out of that car, away from Danielle. This felt all wrong suddenly. Something bad was going to happen.
“Not so fast,” came a voice.
Aster froze, the door hanging open, and turned back to look inside the vehicle. There was a flash from the front seat, a glint of silver winking in the overhead light. Aster gasped—a gun.
Only, Danielle wasn’t the one holding it. It was Julia.
“Mom!” Danielle gaped at the gun. “What are you doing?”
“Everyone, please get. Out. Of. The. Car,” Julia said very slowly.
Danielle fumbled for the door handle and shakily climbed out of the vehicle. Aster didn’t remember actually moving, but she must have, because the next thing she knew, she, Corinne, and Rowan were outside on the bridge. Thunder rolled angrily overhead, and the sky was pitch-dark. Aster felt in her pocket for her phone, only to realize she’d left it in the car.
Julia stepped forward, aiming the gun at the three Saybrook women. “Against the railing, you three. Now. Danielle, you come over here with me.”
Danielle’s face was pale. “Mom. I don’t understand.” She stepped toward her mother. “Is this because of what Aster was asking me about that surveillance tape? I wasn’t there. I didn’t kill Poppy. I swear.”
“Please, Julia,” Rowan tried, using her calmest voice. “What’s going on?”
“All these years, and you still don’t know?” Julia challenged, pointing
to Danielle. She looked at Aster. “Even you? You have no idea who Danielle is to your family?”
Aster stared at the gun, then at Danielle’s face. Her old friend’s bottom lip was trembling. Danielle is my father’s mistress, she wanted to say, but suddenly she wasn’t sure if that was the right answer. You’re like a sister to me. I can’t lose you. The words looped in Aster’s brain on repeat. She looked up and met Danielle’s eyes in the mirror—bright blue eyes, so much like Aster’s. They used to love that; it was part of the sister act they would put on at bars.
She recalled the day she’d caught Mason and Danielle together. The way he’d held her . . . it had been so tender, loving. And then there’d been that earlier look, that day on the bluffs—the way he’d stared at Danielle with an almost ferocious intensity. But was it sexual? Suddenly Aster was no longer sure. Now that she thought about it, it was almost the same look that had been on his face tonight, when he’d mentioned his family in that speech about Poppy. An expression full of love, yes; but also protectiveness, and a little bit of regret.
“You were never having an affair with my dad, were you?” she said slowly. “You’re his daughter.”
“Ding, ding, ding!” Julia crowed.
Corinne’s head whipped around. “Wait. What is going on?”
Julia grabbed Danielle’s arm and pulled her close. She stared at Aster. “My daughter has known for five years.”
Aster blinked hard, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. She looked at Danielle again. “That was what happened between you and my father that summer. That was when you found out, wasn’t it?”
Danielle’s bottom lip trembled. “He told me not to say anything.”
“That’s because he didn’t want it to be true,” Julia interjected. “He was such a shit to her.”
Danielle slapped her arms to her side. “He wasn’t, Mom! He’s been good to me.”
“Really?” Julia growled, her voice taunting. “Wow, he let you live on his property, but not in his real house. He let you hang around with his real daughter, let her lend you clothes and grace you with her presence, and you’re supposed to be so grateful? You should have everything she has!” Her voice rose to a high-pitched screech.
“I’ve made peace with that,” Danielle begged. Tears ran down her face. “I understand why he didn’t want to tell his wife the truth. I thought you understood, too. Mom, I thought you were done with him. I thought it ended when you moved out.” She took a step toward her mom. “Can you please put down the gun?”
Julia sniffed. “It’s kind of difficult to make peace after all I’ve done for that family. You don’t know the risks I’ve taken for them, Danielle. I thought I could earn my place—and I did. I earned it in spades at that end-of-summer party. I got rid of someone who would have destroyed them. And they still rejected us.”
Aster felt as though a bolt of electricity had shot through her. She exchanged a glance with Corinne and Rowan; they all seemed to be thinking the same thing. End-of-summer party. Got rid of someone.
“Are you talking about Steven?” Rowan ventured.
Danielle’s jaw dropped. She took a step away from her mother. “That man who drowned?” she squeaked. “What did you—”
Julia looked over at her daughter, keeping the gun trained on Aster and the others. “It’s not how it sounds, honey. Steven Barnett was a terrible man. He was holding something over Mason. If I hadn’t killed him, it would have ruined the Saybrook family.”
“What was it?” Aster couldn’t help asking.
Julia’s gaze swiveled to her. “You don’t know? What about you, Miss Hotshot Lawyer?” She whirled on Rowan. Rowan shook her head, her eyes wide with terror, and Julia laughed bitterly. “How typically Saybrook. You don’t even share your dirty little secrets with one another.” She took a step forward, keeping the gun aimed high. “The truth is, I don’t know, but I was still willing to kill for it. Doesn’t that sound like loyalty to you? Doesn’t that sound like someone who deserves to be part of your family?”
Aster glanced at her cousins. No one said anything. She suddenly felt foolish. Naive.
“It was that night, at the end-of-summer party,” Julia said, launching into the story. She clearly loved the fact that she had a captive audience. “I was with your father, and your father too”—she jerked the gun at Corinne and Aster—“in his office, doing . . . well, you know.” Aster shuddered. “Then, when someone knocked at the door, you know what he did? He shoved me into the fucking closet.”
“Stop it, Mom!” Danielle said, twisting away.
“But I heard them talking,” Julia went on. “Steven knew something—something big. He said he was going to expose it because he hadn’t been named president. I didn’t hear what it was, but from Mason’s reaction, it had to be terrible.” She turned to Aster and Corinne, a wicked glint in her eye. “I’d never heard your father worried like that, girls. He nearly lost his mind. Begged Steven not to do it. Tried to bribe him. ‘This will ruin us,’ he kept saying, ‘the family, the company, all of us.’ ‘Good,’ Steven said. ‘I want to ruin you.’” Julia paused. “The Saybrooks screwed him over just like they screwed me and my daughter.”
Aster shivered, trying to understand what Julia was saying. Next to her, Rowan was covering her mouth. Aster glanced at Danielle again, to see if Danielle had known about any of this. Her old friend was just standing there, sobbing quietly.
“I had to shut Steven up,” Julia said in an even, rational tone. “I did it for you, Danielle, for your inheritance. It wasn’t hard. I followed that drunk asshole later that night and pushed him in the water and held him there. Clean and simple.” Her face hardened. “I thought Mason would be grateful—I had just solved a huge problem for him. And how did he react? He broke up with me! He threatened me.”
“Mom, I—,” Danielle started to say, but Julia just talked over her, her voice getting shriller.
“He promised to take care of you, of course. But he told me we were through, for real this time. That I had crossed a line. Well, I had, and I swore I would cross it again. I was going to make Danielle a Saybrook if it killed me—or if I had to kill again.”
“You think I wanted in the family that way?” Danielle screamed.
Corinne stepped forward a little. “W-what did you mean when you said ‘kill again’?”
Julia smiled sinisterly. “What do you think I meant?”
Danielle’s mouth dropped open. Ice sluiced through Aster’s veins. She glanced at her cousins, who were pale and still.
Danielle touched her throat. “It wasn’t me in the surveillance video,” she whispered. “It was you.”
“It was necessary, honey,” Julia explained. She kept the gun held up, reaching for her daughter with her other hand. “Don’t you see? You deserve to be an heiress just as much as they do.”
“But why Poppy?” Rowan asked hoarsely.
Julia turned back to them. “I wanted Mason to pay for dropping me, and refusing to acknowledge Danielle. At first I planned on killing him. That’s how Poppy’s parents died—Mason was supposed to be on that flight to Meriweather, but he backed out at the last minute because he had business to attend to. It was too late then. That plane was already going down.” She shrugged. “Once I saw how sad he was about the accident, I realized this would be better revenge—killing his family, one by one.” Julia’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “I tried to hurt sweet little Penelope, the bitch who’d never move out of the way, but I didn’t manage to kill her. So I moved on to Poppy instead.”
“Why wait so long?” Corinne whispered.
Julia laughed. “Why not? It was so much fun being your curse. I submitted items to that site about you for years. I should write a thank-you note to whoever runs it. I sent Will that letter about your daughter, Corinne—I thought he deserved to know. And I sent angry letters from Will to the Griers, demanding to spend more time with her.”
Corinne’s mouth dropped open. “How did you figure tha
t out?”
“It’s not rocket science,” Julia snapped. “None of you hide things very well. And technology makes it so easy these days. Right, Aster?” she asked, glancing over. “Just ask your little tech boyfriend.” She smiled, aiming the gun straight at Aster’s head. “I hated you the most, for the way you just dropped Danielle cold. But I never really had to do anything to you—you just crashed and burned on your own. And Natasha protected herself the day she disinherited herself.” Julia shook her head. “Now I’m going to finish what I started.” She waved Danielle over. “Stand by me, honey. We can take them down, one by one.”
Danielle didn’t move. Her chin was still wobbling. “You pretended to be me,” she said slowly. “You wore my dress. You used my pass.” Her eyes grew round. “The police could have linked it to me. You had no idea you wouldn’t get caught, did you? But that was okay, because if you did, the cops would just pin it on me.”
Julia scoffed. “You’re being dramatic. Has anything happened to you? No. I made sure of it. I even called the FBI from your cell phone, pretending to be you. I knew they were interviewing everyone who was there that morning.”
Danielle’s hands shook. “I can’t believe you. You don’t know what the FBI is thinking. They could be looking into me right now.”
But Julia just smiled. “The FBI, huh. Now that you girls have seen the surveillance video, your little agent friend has some explaining to do, doesn’t she?” Her grin grew wider. “She was in Poppy’s office before I was. They were talking, their heads bent together, all hush-hush. Strange Foley never mentioned it, hmm?”
She turned to Danielle. “Everything I did, I did for you, so you could have a better life.”
Danielle’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I have a good life,” she finally said. “And if you had ever listened to me, you would have understood that.”
Swallowing a sob, she turned away from her mother and walked over to where Aster, Corinne, and Rowan were huddled against the guardrail, and stood in front of them. Then she turned and faced Julia, tears streaming down her face.
