For Better and Worse

by Margot Hunt

  On their first date back in law school, Natalie and Will Clarke bonded over drinks, dinner and whether they could get away with murder. Now married, they’ll put the latter to the test when an unchecked danger in their community places their son in jeopardy. Working as a criminal defense attorney, Nat refuses to rely on the broken legal system to keep her family safe. She knows that if you want justice...you have to get it yourself.

  Shocked to discover Nat’s taken matters into her own hands, Will has no choice but to dirty his, also. His family is in way too deep to back down now. He’s just not sure he recognizes the woman he married. Nat’s always been fiercely protective, but never this ruthless or calculating. With the police poking holes in their airtight plan, what will be the first to fall apart: their scandalous secret—or their marriage?

  Praise for Best Friends Forever by Margot Hunt

  “The action builds to a huge reveal that leaves the reader wondering which of the two women is more twisted. Fans of psychological thrillers will be well satisfied.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Margot Hunt’s debut psychological thriller opens with an attention-grabbing opening sentence and doesn’t let go until the final secret has been revealed.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Margot Hunt’s richly drawn women wrap their hands around your throat and don’t let go. A suspenseful page-turner that kept me puzzling over who did it until the last few pages. Fantastic!”

  —Cate Holahan, author of The Widower’s Wife

  “Best Friends Forever is a page turner of a read, delving into the often fraught world of female friendships and the wreckage left behind when they implode. The women at the heart of this novel are full of secrets kept from loved ones, each other, and most of all, themselves. You may think you know how this story is going to end. But trust me, you don’t.”

  —Amy Engel, author of The Roanoke Girls

  “Margot Hunt’s cleverly constructed thriller kept me guessing till the very end.”

  —Peter Swanson, author of The Kind Worth Killing and Her Every Fear

  “[Best Friends Forever] constantly pushes forward, asking readers to question every conclusion and warning them to never completely trust anyone.... The characters are well-drawn, speaking easily for themselves and standing out as unique people who feel real.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Friends or husbands? Who do women tell more truth? Give more allegiance? Margot Hunt shocks and astounds as she explores these tugs of loyalty in Best Friends Forever, a psychological thriller that kept me off balance even after turning the last page.”

  —Randy Susan Meyers, bestselling author of The Widow of Wall Street

  “Best Friends Forever is a clever thriller that asks how far we’ll go to protect our friends. Margot Hunt will keep you guessing until the final satisfying twist.”

  —Alafair Burke, New York Times bestselling author of The Ex

  “Fans of psychological thrillers will be well satisfied.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Best Friends Forever

  Also by Margot Hunt

  Best Friends Forever

  FOR BETTER AND WORSE

  Margot Hunt

  In loving memory of Valerie Jean Wright,

  who was funny as hell, told the best stories

  and had the most fabulous taste in shoes.

  Margot Hunt, is a bestselling writer whose work has been praised by Publishers Weekly, Booklist and Kirkus Reviews.

  For all the latest updates on her forthcoming books, follow Margot on social media, @HuntAuthor.

  MargotHunt.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Part Two

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Part Three

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Seventeen Years Earlier

  On their first date, Will took Natalie to a cozy French bistro in uptown New Orleans. The restaurant was painted a dark, moody red and had gilt-framed mirrors on the walls that reflected the candles that flickered on every table. It was a popular eatery and every table was full, even on a Thursday night. It was also nearby the Tulane University campus, where Will and Nat were both law students. They’d each ordered the steak-frites—which had given them reason to exchange a brief smile. We’re so compatible we ordered the same thing! And shared a bottle of the house red, which was better than expected. While they sipped their wine, and waited for their salads to arrive, they chatted about the Contracts class they had together.

  “Word on the street is that Professor Harley met his wife when she was his student,” Will said.

  “Seriously? Isn’t there a rule against professors dating students?”

  “I’m sure there is. Maybe they kept it quiet until after she’d graduated,” Will said, thinking that Natalie had especially nice eyebrows, and wondering if it was odd that he found them erotic. Was it weird to be attracted to a woman’s eyebrows?

  “Still, he was taking a pretty big risk.”

  Will shrugged. “They must have thought it was worth it. Maybe it was true love.”

  Nat felt her cheeks flush at his mention of love. She looked down at the wineglass in her hand and rotated the stem slowly. Nat had been surprised when Will asked her out, and she still wasn’t entirely sure she was interested in him. Yes, he was funny and handsome, but he certainly wasn’t her type. Most of her past boyfriends had been thin and pale, with esoteric taste in music and movies, and who went too long between haircuts. Whatever it was they were interested in—computers, postmodern literature, political activism—they were always very serious about it.

  Will couldn’t have been more different. As far as she could tell, he didn’t take anything seriously. He was also blond and broad-shouldered and square-jawed. He even had dimples, for Christ’s sake. She knew without asking that he was athletic. A former lacrosse player, she guessed, or maybe he’d rowed on his school’s crew team. He had lightly tanned skin and blue-gray eyes, that changed a bit depending on what color he was wearing, and he was undeniably cocky—a trait Nat had never found attractive. And yet... Will made her laugh. They sat next to one another in Contracts class—Professor Harley had passed around a seating chart on the first day, so everyone was stuck in the seats they’d randomly chosen for the rest of the semester—and Will would pass her notes with funny comments or sketches he’d drawn on his notepad. Then Nat had bumped into Will at a mixer the law school had sponsored at a local bar. They’d spent the evening talking and laughing together, and at the end of the night, Will had asked her out. Natalie had to admit—to herself, at least—that she was intrigued.

  Will lifted the
bottle and poured more wine into Natalie’s glass. “What are you planning to do after law school?”

  “I’m going to move back to Florida and hopefully get a job with a public defender’s office to learn the ropes,” Nat said promptly. “Then, once I have some experience, I’m going to open my own criminal law practice.”

  “Are you always so indecisive?” Will grinned at her.

  Natalie was slightly put off by Will’s grin. Yes, it was sexy and charming, but she had the feeling that Will trotted it out whenever he wanted people to think he was sexy and charming. She had never liked players.

  “You don’t know what you want to do yet?”

  Will shrugged. “I guess wherever I can get a job. If I can get a job. The market for new lawyers isn’t exactly hopping at the moment.”

  The waitress appeared with two salads, lightly dressed, and set them down on the table.

  “This looks very tasty,” Will said once the waitress had left. “And by eating it, I’m taking care of my monthly vegetable serving.”

  “You’re not a veggie person?”

  “I like vegetables that look and taste like meat. Or tacos.”

  Natalie wrinkled her nose. “Ick.”

  “Just what every guy hopes he hears on his first date.”

  Will grinned at Nat again, and this time she couldn’t help but return the smile.

  “But you must have some idea of what kind of law you want to practice,” she said, returning to their pre-salad conversation.

  “I know I don’t ever want to be inside a courtroom, if I can help it,” Will said, spearing lettuce on his fork. “But beyond that, I have no idea.”

  “Really? I think being in court would be much more interesting than spending all day in an office. It’s partly why I want to go into criminal law.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “You know.” Nat waved a hand. “Standing up for the wrongly accused. Truth, justice, the American way. All of that high-minded stuff.”

  “You might be missing a fairly big downside,” Will suggested. He pushed his plate away and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the white tablecloth.

  “Like what?”

  “All of your clients will be criminals.”

  Natalie lifted one finger. “Accused criminals.”

  “Okay, but if you only defend the wrongly accused, you’ll starve slowly. Or, maybe starve quickly. Odds are pretty good that you’ll be spending a large portion of your time with some pretty despicable people.” Will was enjoying the back-and-forth. He’d had a crush on Nat since they’d met on that first day of Contracts class. For one thing, she was hot, with her compact athletic body and long, wavy brown hair, and Will very much approved of her fondness for short skirts. But he also liked Nat’s dry wit and the way her blue eyes lit up when she was engaged in a conversation. He kept finding himself wanting to impress her. “You might want to think your plan through.”

  “Not a chance. Besides, people who’ve been accused of committing a crime—” Nat began.

  “You mean criminals?” Will interrupted.

  “Innocent until proven guilty,” Nat corrected him, although her smile softened the reprimand. “How different are they from you and me? They’re just people, some of whom made bad choices, yes, but some of whom just ended up in bad situations, or had a run of bad luck. Couldn’t that happen to anyone?”

  The waiter appeared. He poured the rest of the wine into their glasses, then cleared the salad plates. “Your entrées will be right out.”

  “Thank you,” Nat said, smiling at him.

  Once the waiter left, Will said, “It might not be politically correct to say so, but for starters, most criminals—excuse me, people accused of committing a crime—aren’t as smart as you and I are.”

  “That is arrogant!” Nat stared at him in disbelief. She should have known that anyone who had an endless supply of striped oxford shirts, and who wore loafers without socks, would not be her type.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s cocky. And superior. And smug.”

  “Cocky, superior and smug, huh? Don’t hold back, let me know how you really feel.”

  “You can’t go around saying that you’re smarter than other people.”

  “Even if it’s true?”

  “Especially if it’s true!”

  “Have you heard those guys on the radio who do that weekly Stupid Crimes spot? Just yesterday they were talking about a man who chained an ATM to the bumper of his truck, tried to drive off with it and ended up leaving the bumper—complete with the attached license plate—at the scene of the crime.” Will began to laugh. “And then when the police went to arrest him, he tried to claim that he hadn’t been trying to steal the ATM, but that—get this—the bank had hired him to test how secure it was. I’m smarter than that guy, for sure.”

  “You have to give him credit for a really creative excuse.”

  “No, I don’t. And if your crime is highlighted on a radio spot called Stupid Crimes, you’re probably not a criminal mastermind.”

  “Okay, yes, some criminals do really dumb things,” Nat agreed. “But not all of them. Some of them are dealing with drug or psychiatric issues, or have other extenuating reasons for why they’re committing crimes.”

  “Maybe, but still—the smart ones don’t get caught.”

  “Do you really think that’s true?”

  “I do.” Will took a sip of his wine. “I bet if we wanted to, you and I could plan the perfect crime. Maybe even the perfect murder.”

  “But why would we want to?” Natalie could feel herself drawn toward him again. At least Will wasn’t boring. Most of the law students she met were such grinders, and talked incessantly about their class notes and outlines and class standings.

  “I don’t know. Don’t you have anyone you’d like to knock off?”

  “I have to admit, I really can’t stand Professor Carlson,” Nat said. Carlson was their Civil Procedure professor, and he took great and obvious pleasure in using the Socratic method to humiliate his first-year law students. “In fact, I hate him with every fiber of my being. Everyone does. I’m pretty sure even his dog hates him.”

  “Perfect. Let’s say we decided we want to kill Professor Carlson. I bet we could do it and never get caught. I mean, that guy has to have a lot of enemies, right? Several decades of law school graduates who he ritually humiliated.”

  “How would we go about doing that?” Nat asked.

  “That’s an excellent question. Obviously, nothing as tacky as buying a gun and shooting him.”

  “Of course not. We wouldn’t want to be vulgar while committing a homicide.”

  “Exactly. Poison, maybe?” Will suggested. Outside, a boom of thunder sounded. Rain began to patter rhythmically against the tall glass windows of the restaurant. The hum of conversation around them, mixed with the clinks of cutlery on plateware, somehow made their conversation seem even more intimate. Will wondered if he should order another bottle of wine.

  “Isn’t poison supposed to be the favored murder weapon for women? Although, now that I think about it, I might have read that in an Agatha Christie novel.”

  “The only problem with poison is that someone, somewhere, has to buy the poison,” Will mused. “That can be traced. And then you’d have to find a way to administer the poison without your victim noticing.”

  “You’re not giving up already?”

  “Of course not. I just want to make sure we get it right, and don’t end up in jail for the rest of our lives. What about bludgeoning him to death, then finding a foolproof way to discard the murder weapon? Like a log that could be burned. Or, there’s the garrote, always popular among assassins. All you need is a length of piano wire and nerves of steel.”

  “Yikes, that’s even more brutal than a gun.”

  �
�If you’re not willing to get your hands dirty, you may not make the best accomplice,” Will pointed out.

  “I would be an excellent accomplice.” Nat tossed her hair back over her shoulders. “What about DNA or fingerprints or witnesses?”

  “First of all, there wouldn’t be any witnesses. We’re too smart for that. And whatever our murder weapon of choice would be, obviously we’d take precautions not to leave behind any physical evidence. We’d be too careful to take any unnecessary risks,” Will asserted. “And most important, we’d never confess. You’d be amazed how many people break down under police questioning. If you refuse to say anything, refuse even to be interviewed, it forces the police to build a case against you. And if they don’t have any slam-dunk evidence, how are they going to do that?”

  “You make it all sound so easy,” Nat said.

  “Easy, no. I doubt it would be easy to take a life. But I think if you had to—I mean, if we had to—” Will amended, “we could absolutely get away with it.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or frightened,” Nat mused.

  “Definitely flattered,” Will said, flashing another cocky grin.

  “Well, then.” Nat raised her wineglass in a mock toast, as another boom of thunder sounded outside. “To our future as criminal masterminds.”

  Will clinked his glass against hers. “To getting away with it.”

  Part One

  Natalie

  Chapter 1

  I hadn’t known it at the time, but it was the last normal weekend of my life.

  If I had known what was coming, I might have chosen to spend those days differently. I wouldn’t have wasted time cleaning out the refrigerator, for example, or spent that hour running to nowhere on the treadmill at the gym. But no matter what was looming, I still wouldn’t have missed our family’s weekly trip to the beach on that beautiful Sunday in late February.

  It was one of the best parts about living in our small seaside Florida town of Shoreham. Most of the rest of the country was digging out from under the most recent snowstorm and shivering through frigid temperatures. We, though, were enjoying perfect beach weather. Not too hot, not too cold.