“You need to stay away from her,” Seth says, handing me a glass of water. “Drink this.” He hovers over me, tucks my hair behind my ear. I begin to breathe a little like normal.

“Thing is, I watched Dad and Tish at work this summer. They didn’t flirt anymore, no gross PDA like before. Dad told me they had a fight and he was leaving her, as soon as he got back from Telluride. My parents were flirting. This is all so weird.”

“Did you know he was leaving Tish, before he told you? I mean, so what if they weren’t lovey-dovey? That goes away, I hear. And they had a fight, you said. Maybe it was the heat of the moment talking and they made up later, before he died.” He takes a seat at the table, too. I look out at the perfect backyard, much like my own. Nothing bad is supposed to happen here, to us.

But it does. I’m still shaking. And I know I’m right. “No, they didn’t make up. There’s no way he was staying with her, and she knew it. She killed him.”

Seth tilts his head. “We’ve been over this. Your dad had a heart attack. The coroner did an autopsy.” He gives me a quick hug, like I’m losing my mind.

“She cremated the body, doesn’t that say something?” I wish I could convince him to see what I see.

“It says she’s not a fan of caskets. Taking up all that space. I think it’s sort of green of her,” he says.

I shoot him dagger eyes.

“I know you miss your dad and you’re trying to find answers, but if Tish did something to him, the experts would have found something. That’s what an autopsy is for,” he says. “You should stay away from her.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re probably right. But I also know she’s hiding something.” I drop my head in my hand. No one is going to believe me.

I feel his strong arm around my shoulder. “You know what you need? A little gaming in your life. Call of Duty. Come on. To my room. You need to calm down a little. You aren’t thinking straight. Let’s go kill some twelve-year-olds online,” he says. “It will make you feel better.”

I can’t even get Seth to believe me. I need something more. I will figure out something more. “OK, fine. Let’s go kill some twelve-year-olds.”

And after that, I’ll figure out if my stepmonster killed my dad.

CHAPTER 40

KATE

I push open the door to a rather dingy mail supply store and walk to the counter. Dust covers the shelves where gift wrap and boxes should be.

“Hi. I need something notarized. Do you have someone available?” I ask the woman at the counter. She wears thick glasses and doesn’t meet my eye. I almost repeat myself, but she flops a big ledger on the counter.

“I’m the notary,” she says, flipping through pages without further comment.

“Angie?” I ask.

“Yes, that’s my name. What do you have to notarize?” she asks, hand out.

The store is empty, and I’m glad for that. I pull out the copy of the fake will and slap it on the counter. “I don’t need anything from you, but I need you to know you notarized a fake document. You could be in very big trouble.”

She glances at the document and sees her notary seal. She leans toward me across the counter, finger stabbing at her signature. “I simply acknowledge the document here, this last will and testament, was signed by this guy and these two witnesses in front of me. That’s all. Don’t you dare threaten me, honey.”

“Do you remember these people?” I point to John’s name, and then to Mary and Sarah, the witnesses. “What about him? This guy? John Nelson?” A shiver runs through me as I realize someone had to impersonate my former husband. I wonder who that was? How did he have an ID that worked? And then I realize it was likely George Price. “Did this John have a southern accent and a potbelly? Was he wearing a fedora?”

She finally meets my eye, and I see a twitch of acknowledgment. “You know, it’s not my job to remember every person. I just take the ID and fingerprints. And the money, of course.”

“Fine. Can I see the ID records for the two witnesses and John?” I ask, but already know the answer.

“A fancy lady like you already knows that’s not legal without a court order. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She grabs her ledger, slides it under the counter, turns, and walks away.

“This isn’t the last you’ll hear about John Nelson’s fake will. Count on it,” I say to her retreating back.

But she’s right. There’s no way to prove she did anything wrong. As for George Price and the witnesses, well, that’s a different story. One I will be happy to pursue myself.

As I walk back to the office, I feel good about my newly strengthened position in the company. I’ll have the voting rights as the majority shareholder despite Tish’s power play. And soon we’ll prove the will has been forged, whipped up to try to steal my company. What a joke. I decide not to go back into the office and instead to head home.

The sun is setting as I drive. I’m ready for Bob to tell me the will is a clear forgery and that they’ve figured out how to prove it. And I’ll tell him what I’ve learned. Because it is. We all know it. I pull into the garage. My heart thumps in my chest. Ashlyn’s car isn’t here.

I text her: Where are you? You’re supposed to be home.

She answers right away, thank god. I’m at Seth’s. Home in a bit. All fine.

I’m glad she has such a good friend. I need that in my life. I fill a glass of water from the tap and chug it. I’m tempted to open a bottle of wine and invite Christine over. But first I need to speak to Bob. He will tell me the will is fake. We’ll celebrate good riddance to the second Mrs. Nelson. My mind flashes to a powerful memory, the night John announced his plans at our favorite restaurant.

In retrospect, I realized he’d picked a public place so I wouldn’t challenge him. So I couldn’t make a scene. So it would be easy for him to deliver the news and exit the stage, leaving me to find emotional support from the waitstaff.

When you work as hard as we do, you come to discover that you only have each other and the people you pay to be your friends. The dry cleaner is a great guy; Jody, our favorite server at Lindey’s; my yoga teacher; my housekeeper, Sonja. You have that tribe, and then of course, you have your family, and one or two loyal friends like Christine. That’s enough.

John waited until our dinner was served; then he dropped the bomb on our lives. “Kate, it’s settled. I’m moving out. I need some time.”

“What?” I’d rested my fork at four o’clock on the white china plate. I remember the sautéed spinach and the halibut resting on couscous. “What did you just say?” The restaurant was loud. I must have heard the wrong thing, the wrong words. We’d been agitated with each other, short and unloving. And I knew about his flirty behavior with Tish at the office, their illicit romance, but I was ready to forgive him. It was a phase. All couples go through them—it’s normal, typical. I would be the bigger person and welcome him back to us. That’s what I’d decided.

John leaned forward and said, “It’s over between us. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying,” I said. My mouth had grown dry. Everyone and everything in the restaurant moved in slow motion.

John’s face came into sharp focus. I’ll never forget the look in his blue eyes. It was a look of pity for me mixed with confidence. A decisive, final heartbreaking smile that burst across his face before he caught himself. I watched as he covered his mouth, brushed imaginary lint from the shoulder of his black T-shirt, and signaled for Jody, making the signing-the-check motion in the air.

“You can’t just walk away from us. Everything we’ve created. What about Ashlyn? The company?”

“Ashlyn will be fine. I’ve already talked to her.”

What? “You’ve spoken to our daughter about leaving me?” My god, he told our daughter first. How long did Ashlyn know the truth? How foolish I’d been. What a joke I was to my daughter. To everyone. What the hell did John think he was doing?

Jody arrived, handed John the check, and turned to me. “You can’t be finished, Kate. You’ve barely touched your meal. Was something wrong with the fish?” It was then she must have noticed the tension. She grabbed the credit card from John and fled.

“Ashlyn will be fine. She’s focused on her own life at college. We’ll work out all the details. I want you to know this will have no reflection on EventCo, nor will it affect what we’ve built together there. We’ll have the attorneys protect everything. EventCo is on a huge upward trajectory, with lots of investor interest. Soon we’ll both be rich beyond our wildest dreams.” John stood, reached out to touch my shoulder, but I pushed his hand away. A bolt of electricity shot through me. A jolt of realization.

My husband is leaving me.

For her.

I stood up. “Why?”

“The truth? I’ve found my soul mate, as corny as that sounds.” John shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets. And then the diabolical grin reappeared. “I’m in love.”

How can you compete with that?

“You’re in lust,” I retorted as he turned and walked out of the restaurant. I knew about their affair. But I never would have imagined it would come to this.