I text: Yup. But I’ll keep quiet from now on, for a price.

Kate texts: You killed John. You sabotaged Ashlyn’s car. You tried to take my company with that fake will. You tried to take everything.

Interesting. I wonder what she thinks she knows. She’s bluffing. She has no proof. Just Ashlyn’s stupid speculations.

Still my hand shakes as I reply, His heart stopped. His fault. Ashlyn is a brat who should go back to school. I don’t want the company anymore. I know what you want. You can have it.

I yank up the shade and stare outside at the backyard and the golf course beyond. Those guys out there on the golf course are John’s people. They were never mine. These neighbors aren’t my type. The whole scene in the suburbs never suited me. This is a place people come to die, the last stop before a retirement home. I’m so glad I’m getting out of here. I’m about to be super rich. I search for flights on my phone and discover several to New York this evening. I book a seat, first class of course, and when the travel site screen prompts me, I decide yes, I would like to add a luxury hotel suite. So I do. From New York, I can go anywhere in the world.

My phone lights up with a notice that there’s motion at the front door. Likely it’s a golfer coming to complain about the late afternoon noise. Or worse. It’s probably the neighborhood security guard writing me another citation for not understanding how to control my house. It’s like if you have a dog that keeps running away and digging up your neighbor’s yard. Sure, it’s not you doing the digging, but still, you’re responsible. Until you put some ground-up cherry pits in the dog’s food, then you’re not. That was a lesson dear old Momma taught me when she killed my puppy.

Kate texts: This is your last chance. I’ll be over at 7. You better be telling the truth.

I text: I am.

“Coming,” I yell, even though I know the person at the front door can’t hear me.

I pull open the door. It’s the stupid rent-a-security-guard cop again.

“Mrs. Nelson. Good evening.” He’s yelling and points to my noise-canceling headphones.

I yank them off. “Good evening, Officer.”

“Ma’am, your music. We’ve had several complaints.” He’s opening his little citation pad and begins to write.

Who cares? “As I told you, I can’t control the house. It’s haunted. I’m moving. Tell them all I’m moving. Gone tonight for good. That’s going to make all of us really happy.”

“You know what, ma’am. You’re right. I’ll let them know. Have a great evening.” He is laughing as he walks down my front path.

I hate them all. I walk back inside and just like that, the music stops. I know something else will happen soon, but for now, I enjoy the silence.

I walk out to the garage, and I find a picnic basket. We only used it once, but it’s so cute, I should have used it more. The basket is woven, with a red-checkered lining and a small wooden cheese board. The board has a message stamped on it: BRIE HAPPY.

The message warms my heart as I carry everything inside. I’ll make a proper cocktail party for me and Kate. We deserve it after all we’ve been through. I start whistling and preparing for Kate’s arrival. This is the sophisticated way to handle our disagreements. We will come to an understanding. We had better. I make two different batches of margaritas. One in a glass pitcher I’ll leave in the kitchen. This one is to celebrate if we strike a deal. I tuck the thermos with the special batch inside the picnic basket and take it to the garage.

This is the batch to serve if we don’t. I pile freshly rinsed cherries in a crystal bowl and carry them to the living room. I fluff the couch pillows, and as I do, I dream about Paris. I’ve always wanted to visit. I thought it would be with John, he promised me we would go see the City of Light.

But like a lot of his promises, it was just another illusion.

CHAPTER 58

KATE

In the dressing room, my pulse is racing as I slip off the formal gown they had me wear for the photo shoot.

I’m not sure if it’s brilliant, or stupid, or both, but I am going to see Tish tonight. I know Bob wouldn’t approve, but someone has to get control of the situation. Despite the fact she knows we can prove the will is fake, and we will reinstate his real one, the problem remains: she is still around. I realize for my life to get back to some semblance of normal, she can’t be here.

I need to be the one to deal with this once and for all.

I walk out of the dressing room with a smile and hand the gown to Nathan, the shoot director.

“I wish I could keep this,” I say.

“Don’t they all.”

Ashlyn rolls her eyes. “It’s a little fairy tale for you, Mom.”

“I can still believe in happily ever after,” I say. My phone rings as we walk out into the late afternoon sunshine.

“Mrs. Nelson. It’s Chief Briggs. Do you have a minute?”

I stop walking and put the phone on speaker so Ashlyn can hear.

“Do you have the report?”

“We do, someone poured water in Ashlyn’s gas tank,” he says.

“Like a water bottle?” I ask.

“No, much more than that. Like someone turned on a garden hose full blast,” he says. “So much water. Whoever did it wanted to fry the electrical circuit, and they succeeded. She could have been killed if she was on a highway.”

Ashlyn gasps. “I can’t believe her. She’s out of control.”

“Who?” Briggs asks.

I raise my finger to my lips and mute my phone. “I think we should handle Tish ourselves, Ashlyn. It’s the only way. I’m meeting her tonight.”

“Mom, that’s too dangerous,” Ashlyn says.

“I’ll be fine,” I say and unmute the phone.

“Oh, Chief, Ashlyn thinks a boy she broke up with might have done it. We’re not going to press any charges. He feels terrible I’m sure,” I say.

Ashlyn shrugs but goes along with me. “That’s right, Mom.”

“Well, you all let me know if you change your mind. You’ve had a lot to handle, Mrs. Nelson. Call me if you need me,” he says and hangs up.

Ashlyn stares at me.

“I’ve got this. Don’t worry.” I give her a hug. “I’m going to go visit your dad’s grave, if you want to join me. I haven’t been there yet, and I need closure.” I don’t even know where Tish put him. I still cannot believe he isn’t in the family plot as we planned. I clench my fists. It can wait, but it needs to be done, if for optics only.

Ashlyn shakes her head. “I’m not ready to do that. It’s weird. I’m mad at Dad right now. Really mad at him for falling for Tish. And what he did to you.”

“I understand. I do. Feeling angry is completely normal, honey,” I say. “I’ll be home by eight. And I’ll drive you to the airport. I love you.”

“Come home after the cemetery, OK? We’ll go to Tish’s house together tonight.”

I lean forward against my car. “There’s nothing to worry about. Everything is under control. And I’ll handle her myself. Do you need a ride home?”

“No, thanks, Seth’s on his way. Don’t go there without me. Promise?”

I shrug and smile. “Sure.”

But I’m lying. I will visit Tish alone.

As I slip into my car, I remember the last time I saw John. He needed me, again. He was growing tired of Tish’s lack of depth, her attachment to material things, her refusal to read. Anything. John and I, at our last secret rendezvous before the IPO, before she yanked him to Colorado, were both making fun of his wife. We sat at our favorite restaurant downtown, joking about our clandestine get-together.

I’d spotted him in his favorite back booth and waved as I made my way to him. “Hey. Is the coast clear?”

He stood up and touched my shoulder. “Good to see you, Kate, or should I say, Mabel? And yes, the coast is clear. Although I do feel a little terrible about it, the sneaking around.”

I slid into the booth. I said, “She made us do it. She’s the one who insists I call her to speak to you. It’s crazy. That’s no way to do business.”

“Or anything else. I know. She’s over-the-top jealous of you. Of your career, your success. Everything. She comes from a very different place than you and I did. She had a really tough childhood. I don’t have many specifics. I only know that she was poor and her mom was neglectful, but I’m starting to believe it was even worse than she lets on. Tish has a really violent temper just beneath the surface. I’m not used to that. You were always so calm, so understanding.”

I remember thinking, How nice. I was so considerate you decided to leave me. I said, “We built everything we have. It wasn’t easy for us, either. She has it really good now, but she’s acting like a toddler having daily temper tantrums,” I said, grabbing the menu before I said any more. I wanted to keep our line of communication open, the relationship growing again. “I’m starving. You?”

“Yes. Lately, my blood pressure medicine makes me famished. I’m just feeling off. It’ll be good to get this IPO out of the way and deal with other things. I want to be happy again, Katie.” John kept his eyes on the menu.