She frowned, her lower lip protruding to look more like a pout. “I’m sorry. Want to talk about it?”
He shrugged and turned back to his empty glass.
“Hungry?” Rose took the detective’s stool.
Brad mumbled something not even he understood.
“That settles it. We’re eating. My treat.”
He shook his head.
“Come on.” When he didn’t budge, she grabbed his hand and pulled him from the stool. Her fingers laced through his, and though he tried to pull away, her grip was like that of a professional bodybuilder.
The bartender said something about Brad’s tab.
“Add it to mine.” Rose smiled widely, and she pointed behind her. “We’ll be sitting over there.”
Brad tried to pull his hand away from hers, annoyed at her impossible strength. Or had the beers weakened his resolve? It wasn’t like he’d downed that many.
She dragged him to a table near the back with a pale pink coat draped over one of the chairs. “This is where I sat with a couple of your neighbors. Sit.”
He stared at the table with two nearly empty plates of food.
“You poor thing.” Rose finally removed her intertwined fingers from his, then she wrapped her arms around him, squishing herself against him. “I saw that detective talking to you. She still thinks you’re guilty?”
Brad struggled free from her grasp. “Pretty much.”
Her eyes filled with pity as she kissed his cheek. “You’re getting it from all sides. Sit down and tell me all about it.”
“Only for a minute.” Brad sat across from her, eager to get somewhere he could wallow in his pity alone. If only he could think straight enough to figure out where.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Faye splashed cold water on her face and stared in the mirror. It still looked like she’d been crying, but at least her makeup wasn’t smeared across her face anymore. She needed to get Luna ready for bed and didn’t want her young daughter to know she was upset. There was enough going on without distressing her more. She was the only one who didn’t really understand what was happening.
After checking on the older two — both holed up in their rooms — Faye made her way downstairs, where Luna was still watching cartoons in the living room.
Ding-dong!
Faye groaned.
“Who’s here, Mommy?”
“I’m not sure. Keep watching your show.”
“Really?” Her eyes went bright. “I don’t have to get ready for bed?”
“After I see who’s here.” Faye kissed her on the top of the head and hurried down the hall, only stopping to check her reflection. She had bags under her eyes, and her hair was limp, but she wasn’t trying to win a beauty contest.
Allison stood outside.
Faye’s stomach knotted. Her friend would know something was wrong as soon as she opened the door. She’d have to come up with a lie. Hopefully, a better one than she’d concocted for the police over the weekend.
She flung open the door, but Allison didn’t even look at Faye before rushing in.
“Come in.” She closed the door.
“Where’s Brad?” Allison looked around.
“He’s out.”
“At a bar?” She finally turned to Faye. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Why would you think he’s at a bar?”
Allison stepped closer. “Wes just called me from the one by the lake.”
“And he saw Brad there?”
“You don’t look surprised.”
Faye waved her friend toward the kitchen and poured two glasses of sparkling water. She would’ve preferred wine, but Allison was expecting. “We’ve been under stress. Brad wanted some time alone.”
“Alone, huh?” Allison lifted a brow and sipped her drink.
“That’s what he said. Did he run into someone there?”
She held Faye’s gaze for a moment. “Rose.”
Faye’s heart plummeted. “What?”
Allison frowned. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but it’s true.”
The floor disappeared beneath her. She leaned on the island for support. Tried to think of something to say. Wes had to be wrong. Or he was covering for himself. He’d definitely been flirting with Rose the other night. They’d probably met at the bar, and Brad had only stopped to say hi to his co-worker.
Yeah, that had to be it. Brad was pissed when he’d left, but not that pissed. Their problems weren’t that bad. They’d survived so much worse.
“You aren’t worried?”
“No. I trust Brad.”
Allison chewed on her lower lip and looked conflicted.
“What?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you. I mean, I probably should, but I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”
“Spill it.”
Allison drew a deep breath. “They were holding hands.”
“What?” The room took on a crimson hue.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Allison outstretched her arms and headed around the island.
“You’re wrong.”
“I wish I was.”
“No! You are.”
“Oh, Faye. I wish I was, but I have proof. Wes got a picture.”
She gasped for air, clung to the counter.
Allison showed her a picture of Brad and Rose strolling through a bar, hand in hand.
It was true.
“It gets worse.”
Faye closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know. But she needed the truth. “What?”
“Wes says she kissed him.”
“Rose kissed my husband? On the lips?”
“On the cheek.”
A fire burned in her. She stood tall, her eyes narrowed. “Show me the picture.”
“He didn’t get that on camera.”
Faye stumbled back. “I’m going to call him. You need to leave.”
“You need moral support.” Allison hesitated.
“Is there anything else?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Tell me, then leave.”
Allison opened her mouth, didn’t say anything.
“Spill it!”
“She slipped something into his pocket.” Allison backed away.
“I need you to go.”
“Don’t call him!”
“Why the hell not?”
Allison took a few steps closer. “Go down there. Confront him in person. Confront them both. Let it be known you’re a force to reckoned with.”
Faye sucked in a few ragged breaths. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am. Now what you need is—”
“I can handle this.” She darted past Allison and into the living room. “Luna, honey, I have to run out somewhere real quick. I need you to get yourself ready for bed after this show is over.”
Luna’s eyes widened.
“If you need something, ask Hadley or Zeke for help. I won’t be gone long.”
“Mommy?” Fear shone in her eyes.
“Everything is going to be okay.” Faye squeezed her, hoping that was the truth. Then she hurried upstairs to tell the older kids she was leaving.
On the way to the bar, her stomach did somersaults, and she had to turn on the AC to cool her body. The image of Rose and Brad holding hands was burned into her mind. Constantly flashing into her thoughts.
How could things have spiraled so quickly? Everything had been fine before the murder. Okay, maybe not everything, but good enough. Better than most marriages of their vintage.
She raced into the building. Before opening the door, she paused. She didn’t even know what she would say to them.
What would she do if Brad admitted to betraying her? Or worse, if he wanted to end things? To destroy their family?
Hot, angry tears threatened, but she blinked them all back. She wouldn’t let either of them see her crying.
Faye was anything but weak. She was a woman scorned.
Nothing would take her down. No one.
> She took a few deep breaths and determined to stay classy. If anyone was going to fly off the handle, it wasn’t going to be her.
Inside, she squinted in the bright lights. Nearly had to cover her ears to dampen the loud music, the pool balls crashing into each other, and the rowdy conversations all around.
Brad wasn’t anywhere in sight. Maybe it had all been a mistake. Even the picture Allison showed her could’ve been faked.
Her husband had been right about one thing — Allison clearly didn’t like him. What if this was all a joke to ruin their marriage? She hardly ever came around before Duke’s murder.
Faye was ready to turn around and leave when she saw them. Brad and his busty co-worker sitting together at a booth near the back, tucked away from everything else.
The perfect place for a couple to sit if they didn’t want to be noticed.
But they’d been noticed. First by Wes, and now by her.
Rage tore through her with enough force that Faye could pull that woman out of the seat and hurl her across the room.
She stormed over, her mind racing.
Her husband and that home-wrecker were too deep in conversation to even notice her approach.
They both looked at her as she leaned on the table.
Brad’s eyes widened, and his face paled. “Faye.”
“Yes, it’s me. Surprise, surprise.”
He scrambled out of the booth. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“No?” Her voice rose several octaves. “You aren’t sitting here with Rose, enjoying a nice dinner after we had a serious argument?”
Rose covered her mouth.
“Oh, give it up.” Faye shot her daggers with her eyes before turning back to her husband. “And sushi? Really? Is the real reason you never would eat that with me because it’s your thing with her?”
“It’s not mine!”
“Sure it isn’t. The plate is just sitting in front of you for decoration.”
Brad put his hand on her arm, but she jerked away from him. He pleaded with his eyes. “I’m telling the truth. She was here with someone else and invited me over to talk.”
Faye snorted. “To talk. I’m sure.”
He started to say something, but that was when she noticed the lipstick just above his beard. Same color as the hooker-red on Rose’s lips.
She slapped him across the face.
Brad covered the spot. “Faye!”
“Whose lipstick is on your face? Funny how it matches hers!” Faye glared at Rose, barely holding herself back from throttling the woman.
He only shook his head.
“Sushi, lipstick. Don’t worry — you don’t have to say anything. It’s all crystal clear. Let me check one more thing.”
“Faye, you don’t understand.”
“Sure I don’t. How long have I misunderstood our vows?”
“That isn’t fair!”
“No?” She reached for his jacket and dug into his pockets. The first one only had his cell phone and keys. The second one had a lighter, with a rose etched into both sides. “What’s this?”
“It isn’t mine. I’ve never seen it before!” He turned to Rose.
She shrugged.
Brad grabbed it and threw it across the floor. “See? It means nothing to me.”
Faye glowered at Rose. “I hope you’re happy.”
“I’m so sorry about the confusion.” Rose stood, frowning. “It’s like Brad said, I was here talking to Tristan about where he was the night of the murder — he has a really shaky alibi, by the way — when I saw Brad. Neither of us knew the other was here. He was upset about the detective questioning him, so I invited him here to talk about Tristan. That’s all. Brad didn’t eat any sushi or anything.”
Faye held back the urge to punch her. Hitting her husband was one thing, but it would be assault if she pummeled this woman like she wanted to. “What about the lipstick?”
“It’s nothing. Growing up in Spain, everyone kisses everyone on the cheek. I didn’t think anything of it. I apologize that it upset you.”
“And the picture of you two holding hands?”
Brad’s mouth dropped open.
“Wes was looking out for me. Sent Allison a picture.”
Brad glanced around, his gaze stopping at their neighbor.
Wes gave a friendly wave.
Brad returned the gesture by flipping him the bird.
Their neighbor’s mouth curved up.
Faye turned back to Rose. “You can leave. You’ve caused enough trouble.”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to help.”
“You need a lesson in the meaning of the word help.” She turned back to her husband. “You still haven’t explained your hand-holding escapade.”
“She was just leading me over to the table. It was nothing.”
“Really?” Faye countered. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I went over to Wes there and held his hand? Because it would be nothing. Maybe I could kiss his cheek and slip something into his pocket, too. All nothing, right? Wouldn’t bother you at all?”
Brad glanced back and forth between her and Rose.
“Don’t look at her!” Faye dug her heels into the floor.
“I’m going to leave.” Rose gathered her coat and purse. “Sorry for everything. See you tomorrow, Brad.”
Faye’s blood was lava bubbling over the lip of a boiling volcano.
Brad turned to her. “Let’s discuss this at home.”
“You’ll talk with Rose publicly, but not me? Classy, Brad.”
His brows furrowed. “Everything I said was the truth. Are you really surprised that Wes and Allison are behind this?”
“Don’t bring them into this. You’re the one at a bar with Rose.”
“I know this looks terrible, but I’m telling you the truth. I’d never do anything to risk losing what we have together. I swear it.”
She glared at him. “I’ll talk to you privately, but not at home. Not where the kids could overhear.”
“My car?” he offered.
Faye could feel the patrons staring. “Fine.”
He took his coat from her, and they headed outside for what might be their last conversation outside of a courtroom.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hadley closed Luna’s bedroom door and brushed some hair from her eyes. How dare her parents treat her like that, then have the gall to make her get Luna ready for bed.
It was barbaric. Selfish. They acted like they were so perfect, but they weren’t.
The way they whispered together like they were hiding something.
Maybe they were.
She went to the front and looked outside. Both cars were still gone.
This was her chance to do some snooping of her own. They’d gone through her things, now it was time for her to do the same. Figure out what they were trying to hide.
Hadley almost stopped in Zeke’s room to find out if he wanted to help, but she didn’t feel like trying to get his attention while he was playing his video game. That was all he cared about, so why interrupt him?
She tiptoed past Luna’s room. If she heard a floorboard creak, she’d cry out for another glass of water or a story or something. It took so long to get that girl into bed.
It made her never want to have children. She definitely didn’t want to raise kids like her parents raised her. Both Zeke and Luna had gotten the better end of everything. Her brother barely remembered the days when all her parents did was fight, when Dad used to throw things and scream. When Mom would scream right back.
That was no environment for a child, for anyone. But they’d subjected her to that when she was Luna’s age and even younger.
Would she and Duke have had kids? It was a thought that’d passed through her mind so many times when they dreamed out loud about their future together, but she didn’t want to scare him off. He liked talking about getting engaged when she was old enough, but for some reason, it felt like
bringing up kids could freak him out.
She never knew what was going to set a guy off. Even though she’d never seen Duke lose his cool, she didn’t want to risk it.
She would never make the same mistakes as Mom.
Hadley pushed her parents’ bedroom door.
Creak!
Her breath hitched. She waited for Luna to call out.
But she didn’t.
Heart hammering, Hadley crept into the room. Reached for the light switch but stopped. Didn’t want the light on now. Not when someone could see it. A neighbor could mention it to them later — unlikely but possible. More likely, her brother or sister might see it and say something.
Then what? Hadley just wanted to stay off her parents’ radar, if possible.
Unless she had something she could confront them with. And they were in no position to complain since they had made such a big deal about Duke’s sweatshirt. Not to mention the love letter that had fallen out of it.
Her face burned at the thought. At least she’d managed to keep them from reading it or asking about the others. She would never be able to look at them again if they knew the things she’d written to him.
If they were cool like some of her friends’ parents, they’d get it. They wouldn’t even care. But her parents had probably never even been in love. Had no idea the amazing euphoria of having someone who thought the world revolved around you.
Hadley pushed those thoughts aside and shined her phone’s flashlight around. Nothing looked out of place. The room was tidy — just the way Mom liked things. She was not a fan of clutter or mess. Not like when Hadley was little. But as much as Dad had yelled all the time, Mom had been too busy placating Dad’s temper to care about that stuff.
She shoved the thoughts aside again, hating when those memories pushed their way to the surface. Those years were the worst. Having a temper like that should be a misdemeanor or something. Did the police not think screaming at people was damaging?
There was a time she’d wished someone would just hit her. Then she would have proof of her abuse. She knew that was what it felt like. But she’d been too young to know for sure, to trust her own feelings. Even the stupid therapist never gave it that label. But she’d found it online — verbal abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse. There were all kinds of abuses that left no visible marks but had scarred her soul nonetheless.
Dead For Good Book 1 Page 13
