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Two Widows: A totally gripping mystery and suspense novel

Page 3

by Laura Wolfe


  Beth gestured toward her bed. “It’s not much, but it’s all I need.”

  “It’s lovely. Really. Thank you for the tour.” I inched my way back down the open stairway and exhaled when both feet touched the ground floor. “You’ll have to come over to the farmhouse for tea sometime, although you’ll find it terribly cluttered compared to this.”

  “I’d like that. I’m sure it’s great.”

  I’d barely met the person in front of me, but I was becoming more and more entranced by her. Or maybe it was simply the possibility of living vicariously through a fearless young woman that intrigued me.

  “It will be lovely having you here, especially after what happened to that poor girl in town. Just terrible,” I said as the headline from yesterday’s Petoskey Times reeled through my mind. Unidentified Woman Found Murdered on Public Beach. The horrid news clung to my thoughts like a bad stain.

  Beth lowered her eyelids. “Yeah. I heard about that.”

  I shook my head, making my way outside to the miniature porch, Beth following a step behind. “I’m sure we’re safe way out here.” I motioned toward the wheels below us. “You can always make a quick getaway if you need to.”

  Beth crossed her arms, my joke failing to lighten the mood.

  I glanced in the direction of my farmhouse. “It’s been so quiet since my son left. And my husband passed away almost two years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” Her eyes flickered out toward the trees, and her mouth turned down at the corners. She flattened herself against the siding as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

  The ladies from First Lutheran had been right. I had a tendency to talk too much. That’s probably why Mary Ellen Calloway suggested I take a break from Bible study, and why she left my name off the committee list for the church’s yearly fundraiser. Now I’d done it again. I’d overshared too soon. Instead of making friends with Beth, I’d made her feel uncomfortable. I certainly hadn’t meant to dampen the mood.

  “It’s okay.” I patted her on the shoulder, hoping she wouldn’t think of me as a wet blanket. I began to step away, but before I could Beth’s hand grasped my arm, her bare nails pinching my skin.

  “Wait.” Her voice was stretched thin. Something weighed in the back of Beth’s eyes like pebbles sinking to the bottom of a murky pond. She stepped closer before she spoke again, her face just inches from mine, and her warm breath fogging my face. “I lost my husband, too.”

  Four

  Elizabeth

  Before

  The present rested in my lap, my hands clutching the box so forcefully the sides began to cave. Anticipation tightened inside me like an un-sprung trap. I leaned back into the couch and reminded myself to breathe, grateful for the fresh breeze that rushed into the living room through the open window. Outside, the buds on our maple tree were beginning to sprout—a sure sign of spring. Jason was supposed to have been home an hour ago, but he’d called and said he was running late because of a last-minute phone call with a potential investor.

  I tapped my manicured nails on the foil wrapping paper and thought of all of the things I should have been doing for the last hour: proofreading the recent article I’d written on Aspen’s newest ski resort, sorting through the last three days of mail, cooking dinner. Instead, I sat on the couch squeezing the life out of the wrapped box I could hardly wait to give to Jason, imagining the look on his face.

  At last, the familiar rumble of a motor sounded through the window. I peeked out and spotted Jason’s SUV in the driveway, the door of our detached garage opening in the distance. He’d had his own surprise for me a month ago when he’d arrived home driving his shiny new toy. A Mercedes.

  “Do you like it?” he’d said when he saw my jaw drop as he pulled into the driveway. The driver’s window had been open despite the cold day; the March sun reflected off his black sunglasses.

  “Is this… yours?”

  “Yeah.” He removed his glasses and flashed his irresistible smile at me, dimples forming behind the stubble on his face. “My fund is going to take off, Liz. We’re living the good life now.”

  “What happened to the Hyundai?” The one we just finished paying off three months ago, I wanted to add, but I bit my tongue.

  “I traded it in.” He gave no further explanation, just pointed to the passenger seat. “Hop in. Let’s take it for a ride.”

  I’d been pissed he hadn’t consulted with me on the purchase, but it had been the first time I’d seen him genuinely happy since his mother died, so I didn’t make an issue of it. Really, though, I thought we should have been keeping our expenses down, saving all that extra money for a rainy day. Or a day like today, when we’d start our own family.

  The back door clicked open. I started to get up but stopped when I heard him talking.

  “I know. That’s why my fund is different. It’s a mix of stocks and real estate.” A shuffle of footsteps echoed from the kitchen, as Jason fumbled with something on the counter. “Right. Well, I learned from the best. I worked for Goldman Sachs straight out of business school.”

  I cringed, my blood prickling at his lie. Jason was embellishing his résumé again. He hadn’t worked for Goldman Sachs. Ever. He hadn’t gone to business school either. From the stories he told me, he’d barely made it through undergrad at Eastern Michigan. I’d challenged him on misleading his investors once before when I overheard him claiming he’d graduated from the Ross School of Business. He’d brushed me off, believing the lie was no big deal. “No one’s ever going to check it out, Liz,” he’d said, rolling his eyes at me. “These people only want to invest with people like themselves. They want the best.”

  I didn’t agree with the lying. He’d promised me he wouldn’t stretch the truth anymore.

  Squeezing the box even tighter, I sank my weight deeper into the couch. It was a mystery to me why he couldn’t be honest with them. Jason was great at his job. He’d been a commodities trader in Chicago after college and had started his own business as a financial adviser when we’d gotten married a couple of years ago. He had a knack for trading, his investments often returning fifteen or twenty percent. He’d developed his own proprietary formula for analyzing the markets, and unlike most other investors, his funds combined stocks and real estate. He had the personality and looks to make people trust him, and the returns to prove them right.

  No worthwhile investor would pass over Jason’s fund just because his competitors outshone him with fancy degrees and work experience at New York institutions. I wished he had more confidence in his abilities.

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Jason cleared his throat. “They made me earn my keep, that’s for sure. Anyway, I’ve already raised over four million, so that fund is closed now. I might be able to get you in on the next one though.” Laughter, although I knew Jason well enough to recognize it as a fake laugh. “Alright. Go talk to Ken and ask him about his return. Mm-hmm. Fifteen to twenty percent. I think you’ll be impressed.” Jason stepped into the living room and noticed me sitting on the couch, the present in my lap. He raised an eyebrow.

  I drank in the sight of him. His tall stature and boyish grin commanded whatever room he stepped into. Tonight, he looked especially handsome in his charcoal suit and a blue pinstriped shirt that accentuated his eyes. He ran his hand through his thick brown hair, leaving it messy and spiked in front.

  “Sure. Sure, Bill. You too. Bye.” He placed his phone in his pocket and sighed. “Hi, babe. Sorry I’m so late.”

  I stood up and he met me by the couch, encircling me with his arms and kissing me on the forehead.

  “Goldman Sachs?” I asked, tilting my head.

  He shrugged, a sheepish expression overtaking his face. “I know. It’s just that… that’s what they want to hear. Besides, I’m going to make these people so much money. They won’t care that I never worked at Goldman, even if they do find out someday.”

  I looked away, hoping he was right. “You said you weren’t going to lie anymore.”


  “I know. I’m sorry. It just slipped out. I promise to stick to the facts from now on.” Jason gave my arm a playful squeeze and winked. He pointed at the box which I still clutched in my hands. “What’s with the present?”

  I held my breath, the excitement returning. I wouldn’t let Jason’s white lie ruin the night I had planned. “It’s for you. You might want to sit down first.” I lowered myself onto the couch and patted the cushion next to me, the smile stuck to my face.

  Jason hesitated but recovered quickly, “I love presents.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together, ready to dig in.

  He slid his finger under a piece of tape and ripped the shiny, striped paper off the box in a frenzy of pulling and tearing that reminded me of a child on Christmas morning. I clenched my hands together and leaned toward him as he lifted the lid from the box. The stuffed rabbit lay in front of him. He stared at it before picking it up, confused. Then he lifted the Goodnight Moon board book up with his other hand.

  He cocked his head to the side and looked at me. “These are mine.”

  “Yes.”

  He studied the items in front of him, a vertical crease forming on his forehead. “I don’t get it.”

  “Well, I wrapped them up because… because we might get to reuse them soon.” I smiled at him, willing him to understand.

  “What do you mean?”

  He wasn’t making this easy. I drew in a breath and held his arm. “We’re going to have a baby.” Saying the words made it real, and my voice cracked. “I’m pregnant.” Emotion swelled from within me, and my eyes watered. I gazed into Jason’s eyes, a shield of blue that gave nothing away.

  “What?” He set the book down. Sweat glistened on his forehead. “Really?”

  “Yes.” It was taking him longer to celebrate than I’d hoped, but I remembered how I’d felt in the hotel room in Aspen when the two lines appeared—shocked at first, too.

  He flopped backward on the couch, covering his face with his hands.

  I froze, trying to contain the anger that bubbled inside me. Was he upset? Was he crying? This wasn’t the reaction I’d envisioned. “I know we didn’t plan it to happen so soon,” I said, “but I was hoping you’d be…”

  Jason sprung up off the couch and screamed, almost knocking me to the floor. He pumped his fist in the air. “Woohoo! Yes! I’m going to be a dad!” He grabbed me and pulled me close. “I love you,” he whispered. Then he kissed me. A long, slow kiss, the kind we used to share when we first started dating. “We’re going to be parents. You’re going to be the best mom. I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m so happy you’re happy.” I couldn’t stop staring at my husband, at his movie star smile, and wondering how I’d gotten so lucky. “It’s surreal, isn’t it?”

  “When did you know? How are you feeling?” He brushed the pieces of wrapping paper off the couch. “You should sit down.”

  I laughed. “I feel fine. Just nauseous in the morning, usually. That’s why I took the test two days ago when I was in Aspen.”

  “Two days! You’ve known for two days and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I wanted to tell you in person. In a meaningful way.” I nodded toward the stuffed bunny and the book.

  “That was really cool.” Jason laced his fingers through mine, still smiling and shaking his head. “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Not yet. I’ll make an appointment.”

  “When are you due? What’s nine months from now?” He began counting on his fingers. “May, June, July—”

  “January,” I interrupted. “I already counted. Although I’m probably already a couple of months along, so it would be more like November.”

  “November. November. That’s great. This is so amazing.” He clapped his hands together and paced back and forth. “We should celebrate. What do you want to eat? What do pregnant women eat?” Jason was talking so fast, like someone who’d downed five too many cups of coffee.

  I laughed again. “I don’t care, but I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to eat sushi. And no alcohol.”

  “Okay. No raw fish or booze. How about Chinese? I can pick up something.”

  “Chinese sounds great.” My stomach rumbled and I realized how hungry I was. “Double veggie egg rolls for me.”

  “I guess you’re eating for two now.” Jason winked at me as he pulled out his phone.

  He ordered our usual favorites from Lucky Kitchen. I lounged across the couch now, almost in a dreamlike state. I couldn’t believe that this was my life, that Jason and I were in this together and so many good things were happening.

  “We’re going to have to finish remodeling the house, ASAP,” Jason said, as soon as he ended the call with the restaurant. “No expenses spared! I want the best for my little one.”

  “I can’t wait to set up the nursery.” I edged closer to him. “I was thinking of painting the walls a light gray. That way, it could work for either a boy or a girl.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is gray a normal color for a baby’s room?”

  “I was searching on Pinterest yesterday. It looks really cool and elegant. Trust me.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Whatever you want, babe. You’re the one doing the heavy lifting.” He massaged my shoulders. “Or maybe I’ll buy us a new house. Maybe that castle in Bloomfield Hills. Remember the one with the moat?”

  Before Jason had started working such brutal hours, we used to take long drives after dinner, using Realtor.com as our guide. It was fun to locate the most expensive houses on the market and cruise past them, voyeurs into the lives of others. The castle house had provided us with a particularly entertaining date night, as we envisioned what our lives would be like if we lived there. How we’d have to start dressing in medieval clothes and eating gigantic turkey drumsticks for dinner. We’d discussed which of our co-workers and relatives we’d raise and lower the drawbridge for. I’d doubled over in pain, my stomach aching from so much laughter.

  “I don’t want a new house. I like this one,” I said, smiling at the memory of the castle house. “But we need to declutter. That storage room is a complete disaster. I almost killed myself getting your mom’s box down.”

  “I wish you would have asked me to help.”

  “That would have ruined the surprise.”

  Jason ignored me. “Have you called your parents yet?” he asked.

  “No. Of course not.” I sat up, my hand resting on my abdomen. “I wanted to tell you first. Besides, we should wait a little longer before we start telling other people about it. You know, just to make sure.”

  Even if I’d been close with my parents, I wouldn’t have told them first. They lived a few hours away, in Kalamazoo, where I’d grown up and where I’d left as soon as I’d turned eighteen. My younger sister, Caroline, had stayed, foregoing college in favor of heroin. Now she was an addict, in and out of rehab, my parents completely consumed with her “recovery,” but mostly dealing with her relapses and what was quickly becoming a long criminal record. She’d stolen my favorite necklace with the emerald pendant last time she’d stayed with us. It had been my only good piece of jewelry, other than my wedding band and engagement ring, which I was certain she’d cut off my finger if given the chance. That was two years ago, when Caroline was supposedly clean. Still, my parents defended her, refusing to hold her responsible. The drugs were to blame.

  I was hard on her. I knew that. Maybe too hard. But I’d given her so many chances, been burned too many times. My time with my parents usually turned toxic in one way or another. I’d call them tomorrow and share the news, but I hoped to keep our baby at arm’s length.

  “I’m glad I was the first to know.” Jason dipped his chin at me, but the vacant look in his eyes I’d been seeing so much of in the last few months since his mom died had returned. I knew he was thinking about her, and how she’d missed the opportunity to meet her grandchild. Her death had stolen so much. I reached into my pocket, the metal clasp of the earring I’d found on the carp
et pricking my fingertip. I grasped it and held it in my palm, offering it to him.

  “I found this today. When I emptied the storage bin from your mom’s house.”

  He stopped pacing and stared at it. “Is it yours?”

  I shook my head. “No. Do you recognize it?”

  “No.”

  I batted him on the arm. “Look at it. It belonged to your mom. You should keep it.” My palm hovered inches from his face. He took the earring between his fingers, inspecting it.

  “You’re right. This was my mom’s earring.” His hand quivered as he placed the earring in his pocket, his mouth drawn downward. I stood up to comfort him, to let him know it was going to be okay, that I was sure Mary was watching us from heaven, but he turned away from me.

  “I’ll go get the food.” His voice was flat as if our conversation about the earring hadn’t just taken place. In a few steps, he was out the door.

  Five

  Gloria

  Now

  Beth’s hands fidgeted in her lap. She hunched forward in a wicker chair on my front porch, shaken by the mention of her husband’s death. After her initial revelation, she’d had difficulty sharing any details, so I’d ushered her over to the farmhouse and dug out a bottle of wine from the back of my refrigerator. The bottle now sat between us, the label turned toward me to hide the orange clearance sticker. Beth’s glass was nearly drained, but the words were trapped in her throat.

  I remembered how devastated I’d been after Charlie passed away. The only thing that eased my pain was telling stories about him. Anything to keep his memory alive. Ethan and I had each other to lean on for the week of the funeral, but then he’d gone back to his life in California, refusing to answer my calls.

 

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