Pretty Guilty Women

by Gina LaManna

  “I don’t know that there’s a thing you can do for me. I am already lost.”

  “No, you’re not,” Ginger said firmly. “You’re my best friend, Emily. And I need you back. Elsie needs you. And Julia…she’d want you back too.”

  * * *

  Mindy King: Good evening, everyone. This is Mindy King with Channel 11, bringing you the most up-to-date breaking news as it’s happening. Today, we have Detective Ramone here with us to answer a few questions about the case that has stumped the nation. Baby Lydia, barely five months old, has seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth after her father was tragically killed last week. The story came to light after a man’s death disrupted a wedding at the highly esteemed Serenity Spa & Resort. Detective, can you help us to understand what truly happened behind the wedding veil?

  Detective Ramone: Thank you for having me, Mindy. We are currently asking anyone with information on Sydney Banks, thought to be traveling with the young infant named Lydia, to call the police. We suspect she has kidnapped the child.

  Mindy King: The man who was found dead—Henry—was a widower and the father to the baby our country has come to know and love as Lydia, correct?

  Detective Ramone: Yes, that’s correct.

  Mindy King: If the rumors are to be believed, Lydia’s mother, Carolyn, passed away just a few weeks before Henry in a surprising accident at home. She sadly left behind a husband and child.

  Detective Ramone: That’s correct.

  Mindy King: Did Henry murder his wife, Detective?

  Detective Ramone: Carolyn’s case has been reopened due to the discovery of new information. We are exploring the possibility that Carolyn’s death was not accidental, and we will continue to do everything in our power to leave no stone unturned. We will uncover the trail of events leading to Lydia’s disappearance.

  Mindy King: You mentioned that Lydia has likely been kidnapped by her nanny, Sydney Banks. Is it true that Sydney killed the baby’s father in order to steal his child?

  Detective Ramone: We suspect the child is with Sydney Banks, as I said, and we encourage anyone who thinks they’ve seen Sydney or Lydia to phone their local police. It’s possible Sydney could be armed, so we urge everyone to take caution in the instance of a sighting.

  Mindy King: Let me get this straight, Detective. We have a husband who kills his wife, only to find his daughter kidnapped by the nanny. When Henry tracks down his daughter, he’s killed by…who, Detective? Who killed Henry Stone?

  Detective Ramone: We’re not releasing that information to the public at this point. The investigation is still under way. That’s all for today.

  Mindy King: So we’ve got a dead mother, a dead father, a kidnapping nanny, and zero leads from the police. Detective, what are the chances of finding Lydia Stone alive?

  Detective Ramone: I’ve no further comment.

  Thirty-Three

  One Year Later

  “Are you ready to see them?” Kate bounced Emma up and down on her lap, chatting to the giggling little girl. “Because I know they’re dying to see you, sweet cheeks! Are you going to show them how big you are?”

  Emma laughed, but Kate didn’t have time to coo a response before a knock on the door had her springing from her seat. “Here they are!”

  Kate bounced across the condo that would be home base for a girls’ weekend in New York City. After the incident a year ago, the women had all gone their separate ways, keeping in touch mostly thanks to Kate’s bossy texts asking how everyone was doing once a month.

  Kate hadn’t broken the news to them about her adoption plans until the papers had been finalized. Within weeks of returning from the spa, Kate had submitted all the necessary documentation to all the finest agencies. She spared no expense and, after some thought, decided that she could do without an astronaut as a father or a doctor as a mother. All Kate wanted was a child.

  While Kate had expected conflicting emotions to hit her as the adoption process went underway, they never came. It’d been a shock for her to realize there simply were none. Instead, she wondered if maybe she wasn’t broken at all. Maybe she just hadn’t met her son or daughter yet. In fact, Kate had never been more sure of anything.

  The call had come nearly eight months later. Kate knew that was exceptionally fast—miraculously fast, even—but for the first time in her life, she found herself believing in miracles. The moment she laid eyes on Emma’s face, she knew. They would be a family.

  While Kate suffered an occasional ache that Emma would grow up without a father, nothing could diminish her joy at finally having a child. Not the sleepless nights, the hectic work schedule, the exhaustion, the destroyed social schedule, or even the fact that she hadn’t made it to the gym in five whole days. Kate was head over heels in love, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Plus, Kate thought as she pulled open the door, she wasn’t really alone. She had plenty of strong women on her flanks who would be wonderful role models for Emma. Like the two standing on her doorstep now.

  “Ladies!” Kate did an awkward one-armed hug to encompass both women. “I’m so glad you could make it. I hope you’re ready for some massages—joking. But seriously, I have some fun things planned for us, so long as we can work around nap time.”

  “Can I hold her?” Elsie was barely through the door. “Emma is gorgeous, Kate.”

  “I know. Takes after her namesake.” Kate winked. “Emma Elsie Cross.”

  Elsie blinked. “What?”

  “After one very brave woman,” Kate said with a broad smile. “Come on in already.”

  Kate knew, from her texts with Elsie, that the teenager and her mother had grown close over the last year, in no small part due to the horrors Elsie had witnessed at the resort. However, real life had caught up to them all, and Kate had been pleased to hear that Elsie had made the cheerleading team. (And that Ginger was very proud of her daughter’s accomplishment.) The condoms had long been tossed in the trash, but the dialogue about such things remained open. And Elsie had made friends her age who had similar interests reading ragged little books and writing angsty songs and going to the movies. Kate knew Ginger was relieved.

  “Where’s Lulu?” Elsie asked, smiling at Emma as she reached for her. “And Emily?”

  Like always, Kate felt a twinge of worry handing her daughter over to anyone, but she needn’t have worried at all. Elsie was a pro. “Lulu’s flying in shortly. She didn’t want to crowd us, so she’ll be staying at the same hotel as Emily. They’ll meet us for dinner.”

  “And Pierce?” Ginger asked with a certain, unspoken curiosity.

  “He’s not able to make it,” Kate said easily. “He can’t get away at the moment, as he’s needed in court. They’re expecting a decision sometime in the next few months.”

  Ginger eyed her daughter who, despite her interest in the baby, was clearly listening attentively. “Is Emily in yet?”

  “She’s flying back from France, actually,” Kate said with a sophisticated eyebrow wiggle. “With a man. A good one, from the sounds of it.”

  “I can’t believe it’s been a year since we’ve seen each other,” Ginger said. “It almost feels like no time has passed.”

  Kate agreed. “It’s been a year too long.”

  “Have you heard from…” Ginger hesitated, waiting until Elsie had taken Emma deeper into the living room. She bit her lip and dropped her voice. “Have you heard anything at all from Sydney?”

  “Ginger, it’s been a year since she took off.” Kate reached for Ginger, squeezed her shoulder. “She’s gone. You have to let this go. It’s not our fault. We did the best we could with the information we had. How were we to know Lydia wasn’t Sydney’s child?”

  “D’you still think…” Ginger hesitated. “Is Lydia better off with Sydney?”

  “My opinion hasn’t changed since the news story broke,” Ka
te said. “I think Lydia would have been best off with her mother.”

  “I still can’t believe it.” Ginger’s eyes widened. “That whole time, we were getting to know Sydney in person, and she was living someone else’s life. All those stories she told us… They must have belonged to Carolyn. But I can’t shake the feeling that we had it all wrong from the start. I have nightmares that maybe this was Sydney’s plan all along, and we aided her in murdering an innocent man.”

  “Henry wasn’t innocent,” Kate said. “But like I’ve told you before, we are going to have to live with some unanswered questions. I saw the photographs. But we have to accept we might never know the truth.”

  Ginger gave a shrug. “I suppose someone killed Carolyn, and it probably wasn’t Sydney. Right?”

  Kate could barely meet Ginger’s eyes.

  “I think we should worry about ourselves,” Kate said finally. “A year later and the police are still stumped as to the poor baby’s whereabouts. What on earth could we possibly find out that they couldn’t?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Now, shall we get your things inside?” Kate said briskly. “Or would you like to sleep in the hall?”

  Epilogue

  Kate pushed oversized sunglasses higher onto her face as she made her way carefully up the weathered front steps of a modest brick building in Southern California. Her black-and-white-striped dress had cost a mere two hundred dollars, and her shoes were six months old and had scuff marks on the sides. She didn’t even care.

  Ever since Emma had arrived on the scene, Kate found herself morphing slowly into the type of mom she’d always been terrified of becoming. She wore hoodies when there was a chill in the air instead of fur coats for playdates to the park. Her skin-care routine was much less important than making sure Emma was lathered in sunscreen during summer strolls in Central Park. She’d even eaten a box of sushi from a grocery store.

  Right about now, Emma would be tucked away at the hotel with her nanny, a lovely young college grad with far more energy than Kate. Rebecca was her name, and Emma loved her. But not as much as she loved Kate, and that, Kate suspected, was what motherhood was all about.

  Kate had agreed to fly to the West Coast on business—one of the few trips she’d taken since Emma’s birth. Then again, this wasn’t any old trip. Kate had tacked on a few personal days at the end that would, with any hope, answer the questions that burned and lingered in her mind.

  Kate climbed to the second floor of an apartment building that looked dingy and worn, but well loved. Little cacti bloomed on balcony number nine, and a sheet of paper with a baby’s handprint on it sat drying outside, tamped down by a misshapen rock.

  Raising her hand, Kate expelled a breath, hoping the hours and hours of work, not to mention the thousands of dollars she’d spent, had paid off. She knocked twice.

  When the door opened, Kate smiled. “Well, hello there, Hannah.”

  Sydney Banks’s face went pale—the sort of pale that meant the floor was dropping out from under her and the ceiling was caving in above her. The sort of pale that froze her blood. Kate knew she’d look the exact same way if Emma’s birth parents ever tried to claim custody of her daughter.

  “I trust you got the money I sent?” Kate asked lightly. “I didn’t bother to sign the card, what with the police investigation and all. I have a daughter of my own now, you know, so I couldn’t risk associating myself with you. But I believe you owe me some answers.”

  “Kate,” Sydney stuttered, her eyes flashing with concern, then horror, then anger. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  “If I’d come to turn you in, don’t you think I would’ve spared myself the trip out here and simply contacted Detective Ramone?” Kate smoothed her dress. “I think the least you can do is invite me inside.”

  Without waiting for a response, Kate slid easily into the apartment, removing her sunglasses as she glanced around at the bright, colorful room decorated with pictures of a smiling mother-and-daughter combination.

  Sydney stood stock-still in the doorway, her fingers twisting into knots before her body. She still looked thin, but less sickly than she had at the resort. She’d put on a few pounds, and her hip bones had disappeared, covered by a thin sundress patterned with pink flowers. Despite the breezy choice of clothing, the year that had passed since Kate last laid eyes on Sydney had aged her tremendously.

  Instead of those bright, innocent eyes, Sydney now watched Kate carefully, cautiously.

  Kate cleared her throat. “Where’s Lydia?”

  “Carolyn is sleeping,” Sydney said, her chin tilted upward.

  “Interesting choice in name.” Kate gave Sydney a thin smile. “I’ve heard it a few times since you escaped.”

  “I didn’t escape from anywhere,” Sydney said. “I did what I had to do. The police wouldn’t have understood.”

  “No? What about me?”

  “There wasn’t time to explain!” Sydney glanced over her shoulder as her voice raised. She shut the door, then pressed her back to it. “After that night, when Henry died and they were questioning you all, I wanted to say something. I really did.”

  “But you didn’t,” Kate said. “In fact, you lied to me. We all confessed to killing Henry. Then days later, the news breaks that you don’t have any legal claim to Lydia, and in fact, both of her parents are dead. Henry was telling the truth on that patio.”

  “I didn’t…” Sydney sucked in a fortifying breath and gained confidence as she went along. “You can’t think I’d hurt anyone, or else you wouldn’t have sent me money.”

  “Did you know who it was from?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure.” Sydney glanced toward her feet, which were bare against the carpet. “But I wasn’t exactly in a position to ask questions, nor could I afford to give it back. So I accepted it. I’m not sure why you helped, but the money was a godsend. I’m sorry I couldn’t thank you sooner.”

  “I did it for Lydia, not for you.”

  “How did you find me?” Sydney whispered.

  “I’m a cutthroat lawyer with big-time resources and people who owed me some major favors.” Kate glanced down at her nails, waited a beat. “But more importantly, I’m a stubborn bitch. I get what I want, Sydney. And when the police let up on the investigation, I figured I’d step in to see what I could do.”

  “The police let the case slide because they know my daughter belongs with me.”

  “No, they let up because it seems Henry killed his wife, and with nobody fighting for Lydia, more ‘pressing’ cases pushed hers to the back. Now, I’d like some answers.”

  Sydney’s hands shook as she smoothed her dress. “Can I get you some lemonade? Congratulations on your daughter, by the way. Is she Max’s?”

  “No, she’s mine. I adopted her on my own.”

  Sydney stilled, her eyes softening. “I see. Well, the same congratulations are still in order.”

  “Thank you,” Kate said stiffly. “And yes, I’ll take some of that lemonade.”

  Kate didn’t care about the lemonade, but she did want more time in Sydney’s apartment. She was genuinely curious about everything. About the past and the present, about Sydney’s life and Lydia’s too. As Sydney bustled about in the cramped kitchen with the cupboards that didn’t quite close, and the sink that didn’t quite drain, Kate found herself feeling like she didn’t belong in the homey little apartment. Everything felt staged, just a little off.

  “It’s not much,” Sydney said, handing over the glass of fresh lemonade and then gesturing for Kate to take the nicest spot on the couch. Sydney took the battered armchair that looked like it had been confiscated from a street corner and doctored back to life. “But we’re happy here.”

  “I can see that,” Kate said and found she meant it. “So you’ve set up a life for yourself. You’re working, taking care of Lydia. Have yo
u run into anyone else you know?”

  Sydney’s hands shook as she raised a glass of ice water to her lips. “No. I wished—I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I wish I’d been able to speak with Elsie, but…”

  “I recently saw Elsie,” Kate said easily. “She’s doing well.”

  “I wrote her a letter, ages ago,” Sydney said. “Would you give it to her for me?”

  “I think Elsie’s been through enough without having to carry this burden too.”

  Sydney hung her head. “I was afraid to contact any of you. I didn’t know if they were still watching.”

  “The police have been mystified,” Kate said. “It was quite the news story for some time, though I suspect you know that. Don’t you, Sydney?”

  “I know what the media said—how they tried to make me out to be this evil woman.” Sydney shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her old name. “But I swear I’m not the bad guy here.”

  “Then who is?”

  “I was best friends with Lydia’s mother,” Sydney said finally. “I mean, I didn’t know Carolyn all that well at the start, but I started as her housekeeper when she got pregnant and had to be on bed rest. We spent hours talking and talking and talking. Things started to come out.”

  “Things about Henry?”

  Sydney nodded. “Carolyn wasn’t well during the pregnancy, but that didn’t stop him. You saw the book—it wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t my life, but it was Carolyn’s. He did that to her.”

  Kate remained silent.

  “He killed Carolyn,” Sydney insisted. “I watched Henry push Carolyn down a flight of steps when he was stone-cold sober. I watched as she didn’t get up. I watched as he tried to play it off like it was a mistake…and the police bought it. They ate up his lies. They did nothing.”

  “So you kidnapped Lydia.”

  “I’d been raising her since she was born, and even before—I loved her,” Sydney said emphatically. “You must understand. You have a little girl who isn’t biologically yours either—”