Her Husband's Murder, page 13
Well, here goes nothing, she thought. He deserved the truth. She took a deep breath.
“He came to my office a couple of days before we all had brunch five months ago. Right before he proposed to Fiona.” She took a sip of water. “He had pictures, Vee. Of me, in various stages of my pregnancy—when I withdrew from everyone, and no one saw me. It was easy not to see Ethan since we were broken up, and Dutch and Roger mostly hung out with him. Allie was wrapped up in her marriage. Fiona was in Westchester. And you—it was easy to make an excuse to be weird with you and avoid you. Now you know why I did it. I’m sorry,” she said, as if that could make anything better.
Vee just stared at her, as his silence urged her to continue.
“I don’t know where he got the pictures,” she continued. “Some of them looked like they came from traffic cameras, or CCTV in a supermarket. I didn’t even know him then. I don’t know how he found out anything. Probably that high-tech facial recognition software that Fiona said he works with.” She gulped the water until it ran down her chin, and she wiped it with the back of her hand. “He threatened to tell Ethan. He told me he’d been having some problems with Fiona but planned to propose. I knew a bit about the problems from Fiona, but he told me to talk him up and make her see how great he is, and he’d let it go. I don’t even think he loves her. I think this all has something to do with getting into her family and getting involved with politics and Uncle John. Who knows, he’s probably blackmailing him too.” The tears flowed, and her fists clenched. “But I did it. I sold Fiona out to save myself. I fucking hate him, but I told her he was awesome. Looking at it now, I’m so mad at her after last night, finding out she was in a relationship with Ethan, and I think she and Trevor deserve each other. But I didn’t know that then, and I did it anyway. I’m a horrible person.”
“Jesus.” He never looked up. “But why did you fake a pregnancy? To everyone? Even your husband?”
“Because I needed something on Trevor, too.” Her lower lip trembled, and her voice vibrated as she choked out the next sentence. “So, I slept with him.”
27
ALLIE
The Wedding Day, 9:30 a.m.
Allie woke up early, which was a miracle considering the energy she’d expended the night before. Sex with Dutch was everything she’d always thought it would be. Rough, in that they tore at each other’s clothes and pushed each other against walls, but gentle in the way they stroked each other. Experimental in the sense that one time was on the bathroom sink, but traditional in that once was romantic and in bed. Either way—hot.
The alarm clock said it was nine-thirty a.m. Shit. She had to be in hair and makeup by eleven, which meant they probably didn’t have time to order room service. If he even wanted to stay. Without turning over, she knew Dutch was still beside her—she’d forgotten how the heaviness of a man in your bed tilted the mattress, and how her sheets wouldn’t kick up easily because they were wrapped around someone else’s legs.
Despite her drunkenness, she remembered everything. He didn’t pause before he took her hand and led her out of the lobby bar right after she’d propositioned him. In the elevator, he smiled at her and then pulled her toward him and kissed her. His lips were soft and hungry, and his tongue’s presence in her mouth reminded her how badly she’d wanted him. Her legs were wrapped around him before the door opened. She fumbled for her keycard as he unzipped her dress in the hallway in front of her door. They’d barely made it inside fully clothed.
He lazily flung his arm around her and made a sleeping noise. A purr. She smiled to herself and then slithered out from underneath him and snuck out of bed to check herself in the mirror before he woke up. Her hair was still in one piece, but her face had a flush—either from the kissing or the orgasms. After swirling mouthwash, she grabbed her toothbrush and went to town, then splashed warm water on her face to wash away any sleep grease that had accumulated. She’d considered applying her lip gloss, but that was too much. Even for her.
Dutch was awake and staring at her as she exited the bathroom.
“Good morning,” he said, then smirked sexily.
“Hi,” she said, and sat on the bed next to him.
He looked at the alarm clock. “I’m going to go—”
Her heart sank, but she didn’t want to give away her disappointment. “I know, it’s okay,” she interrupted in lieu of having him finish the sentence. “Look, we were drunk and—”
She was stopped by Dutch’s finger on her lips. “Shhhh. I’m going to go and get us some coffee from downstairs. Maybe stop and brush my teeth in my room. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He pecked her on the head, found his clothes from three different piles on the floor, then dressed and left.
Allie plopped herself down on the bed on her back and stretched out her arms, staring at the ceiling. Was this going to change everything? Their dynamic had always been on the flirty side, but he was Dutch, and she was Allie. They were friends, and friends couldn’t be… could they?
When he returned, he was holding two coffees and a plate of pastries. Allie wanted to say something to him, something to blanket the sea of questions she was sure they both had. But look at him, so adorable—his wavy hair was tucked behind his ears, and he’d changed into a T-shirt and gym shorts. She eyed the pastries, but they were immediately placed on the table as he lifted her up and brought her back to the bed. Questions answered.
A half hour later, Allie complained from beside him on the mattress. “Shit. I have to go soon. Hair and makeup.” She shook her head back and forth and raised her eyebrows. “I wonder if Emma is going to show up. I wonder what happened with her and Ethan last night.”
“Oh, before I forget to tell you, I ran into Ethan downstairs. He saw me with two coffees.”
“Oh, shit.”
“I didn’t really say anything, just that I went out last night and—and I let him think what he wanted. We don’t have to tell anyone. Or we can tell everyone. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
What a doll. “Honestly, I’d rather just keep this a secret if that’s okay?” Because more secrets. Why not?
“Sure.” He pecked her on the head again. “So, is this you throwing me out?”
She nodded her head. “Raincheck.”
He smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
After Dutch left, Allie turned on her meditation app. First, she put on “Soothing Rainforest,” and did a few yoga poses and stretches. She didn’t realize how long it’d been since she’d enjoyed sex. Sure, there were one or two here and there after Wharton, but nothing like Dutch. After she spent twenty minutes in downward dog and warrior’s pose and child’s pose, she turned on her positivity meditation. Think of what you’re grateful for, the woman’s buttery voice said. Expel negativity at every turn.
Easier said than done, lady.
She showered, and as she dressed in clean yoga pants and a tank, she felt apprehensive about what was to come. The wedding, sure, but more important, the getting ready part. Her friends facing each other.
When Allie got to the salon, Fiona was there already with some family members. The flower girls (her cousin’s five-year-old twins) were having the finishing touches put on their updos, with fresh flowers tucked behind their ears. Aunts and grandmothers and cousins were there. That was it.
Allie sat and waited, wondering what Emma was doing, and if she would even show.
28
VEEJAY AND EMMA
The Wedding Day, 10:00 a.m.
“You what?” Vee’s face was contorted like he’d just sucked on a lemon.
Emma thought she’d finally broken Vee. This was too much information for anyone to absorb in twenty minutes, much less him of all people. The quintessential nice guy, and she was dumping all over him, telling him everything that would ruin his life. And hers in the process.
“I did it for a reason,” she said, rather unconvincingly. She took the scrunchie out of her hair and ruffled up her long, dark waves with her fingers. “Listen to me, Vee. I need you to understand everything.”
He sighed and crossed his arms. “Go ahead.”
“Trevor texted me a couple months ago. He was in the city and said he wanted to talk to me because he had something he wanted me to see. Of course, I freaked out because of what he already had on me, so I went without question. I met him in his hotel room.”
“Bad idea, Emma.”
“I know,” she said and put her hand up in defiance. “Anyway, Trevor had a picture with him. Ethan and Fiona in—let’s just say—a compromising position. I had no idea about them when he showed it to me, and I snapped, then I raided the minibar. When I was good and sauced, he started to comfort me, which I’m sure is what he planned all along.”
Vee jumped up and took both Emma’s hands in his. “That’s rape, Emma. I’ll flippin’ murder him.”
“No, wait. Listen. I knew what I was doing. I made up a plan right then and there.”
“Please don’t tell me you had sex with flippin’ Trevor for revenge.”
“Only one percent. A half percent really. I know it’s impossible to believe after everything I’ve just told you, but I truly did it to save my marriage. To save my friendship with you.” She took a deep breath. “I planned on faking the pregnancy, and I was going to blackmail him. Tell him the baby was his, and I’d ‘take care of it’ once he swore that our secret was dead and buried. The only way to do that was to actually sleep with him. I had to. The timing was perfect for me to scare the shit out of him this weekend. I had to commit to it one hundred percent. I stopped drinking. I downloaded a sonogram off the internet. You know Ethan, he’s a typical guy and doesn’t know to look in the top corner for my name. I was going to tell him I had a miscarriage next week.”
“You’re lying to your husband? That’s sick, Emma. You’re sick. How could you do that to Ethan?”
“I did it for Ethan.” She swallowed hard, only half believing her own lies as she heard them out loud, even if it was the truth. “And for you. But it’s all out the window now anyway. When I threatened Trevor on Thursday night, he alluded that he was going to tell Ethan everything after the wedding. So, I did it all for nothing.” The couch pillows were crumpled in her fists, her knuckles white with rage. “I think that’s why he sent out those extra pictures to everyone last night. To punish me for threatening him. It’s one thing for me to see a picture of them halfway to sex two months ago, which was bad enough. I could forgive that as a one-time mistake. But it was another to see—to see them—like that. At the Rangers game. And with his family.” She shook her head, trying to rid it of the memory, and pointed to her head. “It’s burned there, you know. I can never unsee that. It’s all I see whether my eyes are opened or closed.”
“But why would he do that to Ethan? Or even Fiona?”
“Casualties of war. He wanted everyone to know, to embarrass me.” Her expression clouded over as the memory returned. “I knew he was the type to cheat—girls just know. He practically hit on me every time we’ve been together since day one.”
“Ick.” Veejay clamped his hands over his ears.
“I know. At least it was fast. Then I left and went home to Ethan. When I cried the second I stepped through the door, I told him it was because I lost an author that I was coveting to another publisher, and that I was PMSing so I was overreacting.”
“Oh God.” Vee’s hand was on his head. “Poor Ethan.”
“I did it for Ethan first, but for you too, Vee. I didn’t want to have to explain this if it came out. You’d figure it out. You’d figure out she was yours—that was the one thing Trevor didn’t know. He didn’t know you were the father. If it came out, and you figured it out, would you lie to Ethan? Would you have lied to him then if you knew? Think about it.”
Vee couldn’t sit still so he stood and went from one side of the room to the other, back and forth, back and forth. Finally, he opened the balcony door and let the Southern winter air flow into the room. The sound of the light wind entering the room and the smell of the salt seemed to take him down a notch and he took deep breaths with his eyes closed.
“My life with you will never be the same,” Emma said from behind him. “I know this, and it kills me. But everything is going to be over. Ethan is going to know about the real pregnancy and the fact that I slept with Trevor. He’s going to know you and I slept together.” She shook her head softly. “There’s only one way out of this whole situation.”
Vee thought his Fitbit might blow out firecrackers before noon from all the pacing he’d been doing. But still, it was Trevor versus Emma, and that was a competition easily won. Whatever she had to do to get out of this nightmare, he would support her.
“No matter what it is, I’ll help you, Emma.”
“First, do you think there’s any other way to blackmail him?” she asked.
“Please, I barely know the guy. None of us really do, I guess. I’m sure he’s got his own secrets. But we have to face it Emma—we’ll never get one over on him in the next few hours. I’m a science fiction nerd and you’re an editor. We don’t have the connections he does.”
She paused, because she knew what she was about to say. She wanted Vee to understand the impact of her statement, because why stop now?
“Then I have to kill him.”
He finally stopped moving. “What are you talking about, kill him? Are you fucking crazy?”
It was the first time since they’d met that he’d broken the swear word rule. The bad f-word, too. She started to think that yes, maybe she was crazy.
“I know a way,” she said with conviction.
No way. Vee had had lived through enough death to last a lifetime. “Are you listening to yourself?”
She lifted her eyes to his and changed the subject. “Hey, what did you do? You said you were going to tell me. Why was he blackmailing you?”
And the pacing was reignited along with the train whistle in his head.
Emma had started the conversation by telling him that he was going to hate her. He felt the same at that moment. While her secret involved him and Ethan, Vee’s secret involved another as well.
“I—I—I don’t even know what to say. I did something bad in India.”
Her face scrunched. “India? When you were a teenager?”
“Yes. Look, first it’s necessary to tell you that I lied to you about my past.” This was going to be harder than he thought. He’d never prepared a speech to divulge the information because he never thought he’d have to. “I didn’t grow up how I said I did, in a poor village. We had money. A lot of it. My dad is an engineer. My mother is a doctor. I went to prep school.”
Emma’s face was blank as she shrugged. “Why is that such a big deal? Dutch is a damn federal reserve and we all still like him. Allie has her huge settlement and she’s still our best friend. So, why did you lie?”
Her words stung.
“Because of why I got sent here. I didn’t win a school lottery. I attended a boarding school in Vermont for two years before Columbia. I was shipped here because I shamed my family.” He sat back down and covered his face with his hands, like what came out of his mouth would cease to be true if he didn’t look at her as he said it. “I got drunk. A friend and I took his brother’s car out joyriding. We—I—killed someone.”
“Oh my God.” Emma’s hand was over her open mouth.
“That wasn’t even the worst part.” He paused, the pain on his face apparent. “The Rahna family influence ran deep where I was from. So, basically, it was swept under the rug—my name was never even involved, and it was pinned on someone else, a poor chap who decided to take the heat and the jail time to set up his wife and four kids for the rest of his life. I was a kid myself—I didn’t know what was going on, what they were doing behind the scenes. My family knew a few Dons, which was the equivalent of the mafia, and paid off the officials, the judge, everyone involved. Then they put me in a box and slapped on an address label to the USA and shipped me off like a FedEx package. The poor victim’s family never got real justice.” His head shook in disgust. “My parents paid off everyone but the family.”
“Oh no. What happened to them?”
“That’s the worst part. The woman I killed—” He couldn’t believe he was about to say it out loud. It would be the first time and saying it out loud made it real. “She was an American, there on business. Her name was Whitney Tanner.”
Emma searched her brain for the name recognition, and when it came to her, she placed her hand over her open mouth. “It was Allie’s mother.”
She said it as a statement, a truth, a fact. Whitney Tanner was Allie’s mother who died in a car accident while on business overseas. Of all the people in all the world—literally—Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and her tears returned. It wasn’t just her that would break up the group. It was him too. He must’ve been tortured. If any of this came out—any part of it—no one would ever talk to anyone again. Poor Dutch would lose all his friends, and he didn’t even do anything wrong. He was the only one not involved.
Vee finally let go and the pressure of the last half hour finally became a powder keg and exploded. He sobbed with such a gut-wrenching noise that even Emma didn’t know what to do. He collapsed on her lap and cried, and she stroked his head.
“I found out everything about her, Em,” he said. “I made trips down to Connecticut from Vermont on weekends just to follow Allie around. I made a fake Instagram account and followed her and all her friends. I visited the ice cream shop where she worked. I needed to make sure she was okay. When I found out she was going to Columbia through her social media, I called in a favor back home.”
“A favor?”
He nodded. “They might as well use their money for good some of the time.”
It came to Emma at once. “The Rahna-Patel Court Project.” Emma recognized it immediately and wondered why she’d never made the connection to the garden and statues on campus. “Same Rahna?”
