“Our relationship was the pits at the end,” she says. “You really didn’t want him back? You were just messing with him, us?”

“That’s what I said.” I stare at the bowl of cherries on the coffee table. Did she kill John with cherry pits? Is that even possible? “The coroner ruled it a heart attack. Are you saying something different?”

“I’m not saying anything. John’s autopsy didn’t find anything. The story is over,” Tish says. She pops another cherry in her mouth and smiles. “I made a batch of margaritas. Are you thirsty?”

I fight the urge to run out the front door as a chill runs down my spine. “No, I’m not. You know I shouldn’t give you a dime. I’m convinced you really did kill John, and you could have killed Ashlyn.”

“I’m not stupid. Ashlyn just needed a little warning.” Tish shrugs.

“You will never contact her again.”

She hands me a piece of paper. A deposit slip. “Works for me. Oh, and I need you to make a deposit into this account tonight, before my flight departs at 10:00 p.m.”

I take the slip of paper. “It will be done.”

Tish smiles and stands up. “Great. So, I need help with my bags. Can you do that or are you too old and feeble? I’m kidding, joking around for old times’ sake. Aren’t you glad I’ll be out of your hair soon?”

Beyond glad, a mixture of emotions but mostly joy. I don’t tell her that, of course. I follow Tish up the stairs, the stairs she and John used to climb together up to their bedroom. It’s fine. I can handle it. At least this is the end.

“I’m stronger than I look,” I assure her. “Did you enjoy the screen saver on John’s desktop today?”

She stops at the top of the stairs, and I join her on the landing. She looks momentarily surprised. “No way. That was you? And the threatening note?”

I nod.

“Good job.” She nods her head with a smile, appreciating my handiwork, I suppose.

“Thanks, I guess.” It’s surreal, standing here accepting compliments from her. But this is what my life’s become because of her. And because of John.

At the top of the stairs, Tish sticks out her hand and we shake. She says, “Thanks for coming up with a mutually beneficial deal. I’ll hold up my end. Promise.”

I follow her down the long hall to the bedroom.

She stops at the doorway. “I can’t wait for you to see our bedroom. It was so cozy. We had so many good times here.”

Her little dig won’t work. I feel nothing. I follow her into the room with a lightness I haven’t felt in years. I see two huge suitcases, almost like trunks. She is prepared to leave. This is all working out.

Tish seems almost giddy, like we’re girlfriends and this is the start of a vacation together. “Thank you so much for helping me. We can roll the suitcases down the hall, but we’ll probably need to carry them down the stairs together.”

I start rolling one of the suitcases down the hall. Tish follows with the matching trunk. It’s so heavy I have to push it from behind. I’m not sure if we can handle carrying these. We reach the top of the stairs and both stop to reassess.

“I’m not sure about this,” I tell her. “I think we could slide them down, maybe, one at a time?”

“They’ll crash into the glass table at the bottom of the stairs,” Tish says. “No, we have to carry them.”

Tish is bent down, next to the suitcase she’s rolled to the edge of the stairs. These trunks are likely worth thousands of dollars with big gold latches and the telltale Louis Vuitton monogram. Each one must weigh over one hundred pounds empty.

I look down the hall, past Tish, and blink. It’s Ashlyn. She’s running toward us.

“I’ll take this one.” Tish starts down the stairs, the heavy trunk behind her, and as I watch, Ashlyn shoves her from behind. I see Tish’s necklace wrap around the wheel. It’s all in slow motion. I hear a guttural scream. I watch in horror as Tish’s body flies over the trunk, and they fall together in a terrible tangle to the bottom of the stairs, crashing to a stop under the glass table that shatters and falls on top of the trunk.

We stand together at the top of the stairs. Tish’s body twisted and partially hidden by the trunk. I can’t process what just happened. All I can think of is protecting Ashlyn. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t be found here.

“Do you think she’s dead?” Ashlyn asks, her voice a whisper. “I want her to die.”

“I understand. She is a bad person,” I say. I can’t believe this is happening. Did Ashlyn kill Tish? Was this purposeful? And why? I had no idea my daughter felt this type of rage against Tish. I should have realized how much pain she was in, too.

She’s looking at me, her eyes shining and wide. “I’m on your side, Mom.”

My heart feels the love, but my brain knows we must get in front of this situation. There’s no more time to talk. “Ashlyn, go. Now! Leave the way you came. Make sure no one sees you!” I scream.

Adrenaline zips through me as I rush down the stairs to where Tish has landed. Her body is under the trunk, her head at an awkward angle.

Ashlyn disappears down the hall, back the way she came. I run to the living room to get away from the horror and to give Ashlyn time to escape. I’m shaking all over, but I try to breathe. I pace back and forth in the living room, gathering Tish’s copy of the contract from the coffee table. I catch a glimpse of myself in the living room mirror: I’m pale, and dark circles shroud my eyes. I turn away and sit down on the couch. The bowl of red cherries glisten in the light of the crystal chandelier overhead.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here on Tish’s couch in shock, but suddenly a man walks through the front door.

We stare at each other.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Who are you?” I ask.

He ignores the question and yells, “Tish? Oh my god!”

He’s kneeling on the ground next to the trunk. I rush to his side. “There’s been an accident. She just fell down the stairs. I don’t know what to do.” Tears stream down my face.

“Call 911!” the man yells.

I find my phone in my purse and dial 911.

“What’s your emergency?” the operator asks.

“It looks like a woman has fallen down the stairs. It’s a terrible accident. Send help, please,” I manage in a choking voice. What if she’s dead? What if she’s not?

“Is she breathing?” the operator asks.

“I don’t know.”

“The squad is on the way. Stay on the phone. I need you to check for a pulse,” the operator demands.

I run to where Tish landed. Sparkling shards of glass decorate the floor. The man who came in the door is kneeling next to her. In my imagination, I watch as she lifts the trunk and stands up, yelling for Ashlyn, trying to blame my daughter and me for her accident. Because, it was, it must be, an accident. But as I reach her side, she’s still pinned underneath the trunk.

“Can you feel a pulse?” the operator asks.

“Is there a pulse?” I ask the stranger, but he’s shaking his head.

I don’t want to touch her. Her neck is at such a terrible angle. I find her right hand and see the excessively large wedding ring from my husband, twice the size of mine. I touch her wrist, but I can’t feel a pulse as my own blood rushes through my body at warp speed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Her head, it’s twisted,” I say, walking away from Tish’s body. “She’s not moving. I don’t know.”

“The squad is there, ma’am,” the operator says.

And that’s when the professionals arrive with calm determination on their faces and I step out of the way. When they lift the trunk off Tish’s body, my knees collapse, and I drop to the floor.

I close my eyes, and everything is black.

CHAPTER 64

KATE

When I open my eyes, I’m on a bed, white curtains drawn around me. A nurse leans over me.

“Do you know where you are, Mrs. Nelson?” she asks.

A hospital would be my guess.

“You’re at Riverside Hospital. In the emergency room. How are you feeling?”

It’s all so shockingly clear in my mind. Tish’s fall, the angle of her neck. “I need to see my daughter.”

“We’ve called your daughter. Her flight turned around midair somehow. Looks like she’s here now.”

“Mom.” Ashlyn sobs as she runs to my side.

“Honey.” I pull her toward me.

She whispers, “I shouldn’t have left you there.”

“It was a great idea to take your flight as scheduled. I’m so proud of you.” I sit up in the bed, almost like nothing was wrong with me. “Has anyone told you anything about Tish’s condition?”

Ashlyn shakes her head. “No.”

All the time Tish has been in our lives, I’ve been waiting for the next terrible thing to happen. That’s all she has wrought. Horrible things. Sure, John and I had let our marriage take second place to the business. That made it easy for someone like her to sneak into the gap. But at first, I thought that was all she’d take. John. The love of my life. That was enough.

But once she had John, she moved on to taking EventCo. She tried to take my whole life.

The nurse pops her head in. “Do you need anything in here? The doctor should be by shortly.”