I sighed. “It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. Henry always took care of things for the firm. ‘Trust me, I’ll handle it.’ He even said that to me, but I was so wrapped up in nailing Barclay I didn’t see it. Barclay was beside himself afterward because he knew that if Henry didn’t have anything to hide, he would have told the police he was at Eleanor’s house that day, but instead he kept quiet. That’s when Barclay realized that he might not have to leave the firm after all, because if Henry tried to ruin him, he could always take Henry down with him. Tricia told me at lunch that Barclay wasn’t sure if he was going to become a judge or not. All the pieces were there, and I just didn’t put them together till the end.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look how much more you found out than anybody else. Do you think Henry went over there intending to kill her?”
“Probably not, at least not consciously. I don’t know what happened before Manuel got there, but I do know she’d bought that wine to celebrate her victory over the ‘bastards,’ so most likely he just intended to pay her off. Eleanor had a way of infuriating people. Who knows? Maybe it was the sight of her in that hot tub, such an easy target. Maybe the Bâtard-Montrachet was the last straw. Manuel saw him reach for the bottle and then stop. He must have decided at that very moment.” I frowned. “The only thing that bothers me is that Henry wouldn’t tell me anything, even though I think that in a way he wanted me to know he did it. He said that killers only confess in Columbo, and that wasn’t going to happen.”
“You mean you wanted him to grovel and weep, and he didn’t.”
I laughed. “Maybe. But my Clytemnestra days are over for good. I don’t want to make a career as the avenger,” I said. “Look where it got Eleanor.”
He took my hand. “Now that it’s over, why don’t you come on a trip with me? I have a beach house in Puerto Vallarta. It’s beautiful this time of year. You can practice your Spanish.”
“I thought that was what I’ve been doing,” I told him.
He laughed. “Well, then, you can meet my parents on the way back.”
“I’d like that,” I told him. “Susan wants me to visit her in New York, too, when she gets settled. But as soon as I can, I have to get down to work.”
“On what?” he asked me.
“On a book. About all this, somehow. I want to write a book about how to move on after your divorce. Eleanor wanted me to write her story, but I think she might have been pleased if I could help other women avoid her fate.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m still working on the title. Something like ‘reinventing your life,’ but I can’t quite get it right.”
“You’ll think of something,” he said and reached for me under the covers.
How easy change is, but how final.
More from Catherine Todd
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With the help of an unlikely group of friends (including a weight-obsessed cardiologist with a penchant for Beach Bimbos, a high school frenemy, and a decorator with an uncanny resemblance to Vlad the Impaler), Ellen begins her investigation into the chic world of California matchmaking, where she enrolls as a love-starved client. What she discovers is enough to make anyone scared single, but when she is matched with a not-so-unattractive lawyer, life starts to get a lot more interesting. Just as it seems things are looking up, though, the real killer catches on and Ellen has to stay cool—to stay alive.
Secret Lives of Second Wives
After more than a decade alone, attorney Lynn Bartlett was ready to shake up her reliably comfortable life. So when successful, kind-hearted Jack Hughes—with his home in Silicon Valley, his safely remarried ex-wife, and his two grown children—proposed, it seemed like a dream come true. After all, how hard could it be? All you had to do was be nice to everybody and you’d all get along.
Welcome to the perilous world of the second wife, where nothing turns out quite as expected. With an unemployed, unmotivated stepson who declares he’s moving in “temporarily,” a stepdaughter who oozes scorn, and a husband who’s hiding something, Lynn’s imagined domestic bliss begins to crack. Add in an ex-wife who shows up at inopportune times, a law partner who may be involved in illegal dealings, and a client whose attractions prove far too tempting, and Lynn finds both her marriage and her career could be in trouble.
Not even the Anne Boleyn Society—an informal support group for second wives—has all the answers. Sure, they can commiserate when Lynn says, “I never thought it would be so hard,” but they don’t know the half of it…
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