Emily and I were so engrossed in Ruby’s calculations that we failed to see Josh step out on the deck. But he didn’t fail to see us.
“Hey, neighbors,” he called with a friendly wave.
“Duck,” said Ruby.
It was a little late for ducking, so I grabbed the clippers out of Emily’s hand and waved “hi” with them. “Doing a little clipping. Woo! This morning glory is out of control.” I grabbed a hunk and whacked it off, revealing a snail family living on the fence railing. They immediately raced toward shade and Emily’s hands.
“Oh, my God!” she shrieked. “Snails. Yuck. I hate snails. They’re so slimy.”
“You better get down then,” I said, “or in a few minutes, they might get near you.” I picked one up and waved it in her face. “Ooo. Emily, I’m going to slime you.”
“How old are you two?” laughed Ruby, climbing down.
“When you guys are done playing,” called Josh, “come over and meet my mother.”
Chapter Forty
BETTER DEAD THAN WED
SATURDAY • AUGUST 10
Posted by Katy McKenna
Private
The Jane Austen Book Club was scheduled to meet at Debra’s, but one look at her when she opened the door to Justin, Chloe, and me made me think she should have canceled. Her normally vibrant golden-brown complexion looked dull, accented by dark hollows under her big red-rimmed eyes.
“You don’t look so good,” I said. “And I’m saying that with nothing but love.”
Debra offered a weak smile. “Normally I would say I look worse than I feel, but today it would be a lie.”
“You sure you want all of us here?” asked Chloe. “Maybe you should be in bed.”
“I don’t have anything you can catch, although most of you will come down with it sometime in the future. It’s got a long incubation period.” She chuckled and then broke into a coughing spasm.
Justin did a dramatic shudder. “Like a tropical disease?”
“More like menopause, or I should say perimenopause. Once I get to menopause, I’ll be feeling a whole lot better than this. And the coughing is just really bad allergies. Blame it on the drought.”
“TMI.” Justin fluttered his hands. “But I feel for you in spirit, girl.” He leaned in for a hug. “Good thing I brought chocolate.”
“Is it dark?”
“Is there any other kind?” He uncovered a glass dish. “Homemade truffles.” He put the plate in her hands. “Do not share with anyone.”
I eyed the truffle-laden plate, then looked at Justin thinking, He’s perfect. I bet he vacuums too.
We sat outside under a pergola, enjoying a gentle breeze from the overhead fan. After complimenting everyone on the delightful delicacies, Debra said, “I don’t suppose anyone is actually reading a Jane Austen book?”
We all glanced at each other, looking guilty for not doing our homework.
“Shame on us,” she snorted. “We are the worst book club, ever. Next question. Anyone got any good gossip?”
“Now we’re talking. What’s the latest on your charming ex, Katy?” said Justin. “I saw him at the hospital visiting Heather, so has he finally got his act together?”
“Oh, brother,” Samantha snickered, fluffing her blond pixie cut. “Has he ever.”
Justin shimmied forward in his seat. “Now you have to share.”
“You’re all over eighteen, so…” I turned my phone’s screen toward the group and everyone leaned in. “Get ready to be scandalized.”
“Oh, Lisa, baby. Unh-huh. Yeah. That’s it, baby. God, I love your big hooters.”
When my movie ended, Chris said, “I have to admit, Katy. Did not see that coming. I am impressed with you. You got balls, girl.”
“Thank you.” And thought, I’m a bold, brassy broad with balls.
Justin, overjoyed with the video, had done his happy-clappy-thingy throughout the movie. “This is priceless. Are you really going to post it on YouTube?”
“No. I can’t do that to Heather, although I threatened to if he didn’t shape up, and he swore he would. But he’s already at it again. I shot this video over a week ago, and as of yesterday, he left on a trip to New York City with Lisa.”
“You mean,” Debra cracked a smile, “Big Hooters?”
I nodded, sipping my cabernet and thinking how good one of Justin’s chocolate truffles would pair with it.
“Maybe he’ll get hit by a subway train. Problem solved,” said Chloe, dusting her palms.
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” said Sam. “Heather could grieve for him and never know what a complete—”
“Turd he is,” finished Chris.
“There’s one more person I’d like to add to the hit list,” I said. “My great-Uncle Ted.”
I shared Mom’s story, finishing with the outrageous community service punishment.
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” Debra stifled a cough. “He’s a child molester and he’ll do it again. Somewhere out there are more innocent children he’s going to hurt.”
“Where’s this perv live?” said Chris with eyes so cold it chilled me to the bone, making me wonder if she suffered from PTSD after all her tours in the Middle East. Would not want to get on her bad side.
Chapter Forty-One
BETTER DEAD THAN WED
MONDAY • AUGUST 12
Posted by Katy McKenna
Heather’s mother flew in this morning. Since Chad is still out of town, Heather asked if I would pick her up. I couldn’t say no but sure wish she’d called someone else. When exactly did I become her bestie?
I knew Judy the moment she walked through the glass doors at the airport. Shoulder-length strawberry blond with freckles, late forties, with a bohemian vibe. Like a “Heather senior.”
I stepped forward from the small crowd. “You must be Judy.”
“And you are Katy. Isn’t life strange?”
“You can say that again. Never saw myself becoming friends with Heather, but here I am.”
Luggage bounced onto the carousel and she stepped close, ready to grab. I moved next to her. “Tell me which one is yours and let me grab it. You just had surgery and shouldn’t be lifting.”
“Shouldn’t be traveling either, but I need to take care of my girl.” We both let the reason hang in the air. “There’s my suitcase. The one with the flowers on it.”
While I stowed her luggage in the back of my car, Judy said, “I’ve only met Chad once. At the wedding in Vegas if you can call that a wedding. But so far, I am not impressed. You seem like a sweet girl, so how he could have cheated on you is beyond my comprehension. I’m just sorry it was with my daughter.”
I was determined to take the high road and not say anything negative. “In her defense, she didn’t know.”
“But how could he go off on a trip at a time like this? Heather says it’s business, but I don’t get it. What can be more important than your wife and newborn baby? Especially after everything that’s happened.”
I bit my lips to keep my mouth shut and stay on that high road.
“And he hasn’t been picking up her calls.”
My lips cracked open a smidge. “He hasn’t?”
“No. Heather thinks it’s because the cell reception must be bad. In New York City? Right.”
This high road thing was killing me, but I stayed the course. “Heather told me where the door key is hidden at the house. We’ll go by there first so you can drop off your things. Then you can follow me over to the hospital in her car.”
“How can they afford this?” Judy gaped at Heather’s boxy contemporary concrete house when we pulled up in front. “Sure doesn’t look like a house Heather would choose.”
It looks like a house Chad would choose. Like the one we lived in, I thought, but didn’t share. High road.
We found the key and let ourselves in.
“It’s so cold and sterile.” Judy glanced around the cavernous open-concept home. “All this glass an
d cement.” She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “Listen to how my voice bounces off the hard surfaces. Just think what it’ll be like with a baby crying at two a.m.”
“Let’s find the guest room so you can freshen up before we go.”
Our footsteps echoed as we roamed around the house. We peeked in one bedroom and it was the nursery. “At least there are curtains and a rug.” She went in and touched the top rail of one of the three white cribs. “Thank God one of my grandbabies survived.”
We continued to the next room. “This must be the master,” said Judy. “Look at the size of that bed. It’s huge. It must have been custom made.”
I glanced at the neatly made bed, flashing on the mess it was the last time I saw it.
Judy went into the master bathroom that was as big as my master bedroom, and I tagged along. “Sure is clean.” She ran a finger across the bare concrete counter. “I always have stuff strewn all over the counter, and Heather has never been known for her tidiness, so it must be Chad.”
“He didn’t used to be.”
She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m being inconsiderate. This has got to be terribly uncomfortable for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m all right.” Not.
She left the bathroom and crossed through the bedroom, out to the hall. “I’ll hurry this up, so you can get out of here.”
I hung back. Something felt wrong. I opened the closet door and snapped on the light. Chad was a clotheshorse and we always fought for closet space, but this colossal walk-in was three-quarters empty. Because Chad’s clothes weren’t in it.
Was he using another closet? I quietly searched the closets in the other rooms off the expansive hallway until I wound up in the guest room with Judy. Her bag was open on the bed and she was placing her clothes in a bureau. The wall-length open closet held nothing but empty hangers.
“You look disturbed, Katy. What’s wrong, besides the obvious?”
“Chad’s clothes aren’t in the master closet, and I’ve checked the other rooms. I haven’t looked in the drawers yet.”
“Well, I will.” She rushed to the master bath and slammed through the drawers, then the dresser in the bedroom. Everything male-oriented was gone.
“What kind of person does something like this?” She leaned against the dresser, looking at a framed Vegas wedding chapel photo of Chad and Heather. “Don’t answer that. The kind who cheats on the good wife who nursed him through cancer.” She set the photo facedown and collapsed on the gray love seat at the foot of the bed. “What am I going to tell Heather? She’s been through so much already.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God. What if she has another stroke?”
I sat next to her. “Strokes aren’t caused by stress. And she’s on medication.”
“Well, it’s going to break her heart. There’s no medication for that.” Judy stood, smoothing her embroidered tunic top. “I need to get to the hospital.”
“Are you going to tell her now?”
She shook her head. “No. Not until we have some answers.”
The obvious answer was: Chad had not gone on a business trip. He’d moved in with his inamorata.
I had no idea where Lisa lived, so after I led Judy to the hospital, I drove to the country club. In the parking lot, I found Chad’s Lexus SUV with its BADBOY vanity plates sitting under a tree. I parked Veronica out of sight, pulled on the wrinkled red baseball cap I keep in the car for dog-park visits, and feeling like a sleuth, settled in for my first-ever stakeout.
Halfway into the second hour I was getting drowsy and decided to sample the day-old leftover coffee in the flimsy, plastic cup holder hanging from the window channel. It wasn’t bad. Not good but not bad.
Finally he sauntered through the parking lot like he didn’t have a care in the world and tossed his clubs in the back of his SUV. I hunkered down, peeping over the windowsill, and saw Lisa rolling her pink bedazzled golf bag to the car.
And then they were off, with me in hot pursuit. In my orange 1976 Volvo wagon. Could I have been any more conspicuous? Realizing that, I hung back and let a few cars slip in between.
I must be a natural at this PI stuff because Chad never saw me, but I saw them turn into her plastic-flamingo-lined driveway. I jotted down the address, as if I was going to forget it, and then left the neighborhood because I didn’t have a plan beyond locating Chad.
Samantha was on duty, so a few blocks away I pulled over and called to see if she could take a break. I needed her input and a text wouldn’t suffice.
“I can break in about twenty minutes,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”
I found her sitting with Justin and Nora. Sam already had a cream-and-sugared coffee waiting for me.
“How much time do you two have?” I blew on my scalding beverage.
“We all just got here,” said Sam. “So what’s going on?”
I told them what was up with Chad and finished with, “What should I do?”
“I say it’s time to pull out the big guns and go viral with that video,” said Nora.
“I already threatened him with that, and it only kept him in line for a couple of days.”
“He must have thought you wouldn’t go through with it,” said Sam. “You know, because he figured you don’t want to hurt Heather.”
Justin fluttered his hands. “Before you do anything too drastic that you can’t take back, I think you should talk to him one more time,” he said, earning a round of groans.
I squirmed in my seat, whining like a five-year-old being ordered to eat her lima beans. “I don’t wanna talk to him again.”
Justin held up a hand, shushing me. “Trust me on this. You will feel better knowing you tried.”
“Oh, all right.”
“Promise?”
“Justin. Leave the poor girl alone,” said my bestie.
“No, Sam. He’s right. One more time won’t kill me.” Although I might kill Chad.
Nora’s eyes lifted from our little group. “Debra! Over here. Come sit. You have to hear Katy’s story.”
“Let me get a water first,” she answered. “Anyone need anything?”
“No, we’re good.” Nora lowered her voice, leaning in. “Debra looks dreadful, and I’m very worried. The constant cough, her weight loss. Look at the way her clothes are just hanging on her. If you ask me, this is a lot more than allergies and perimenopause.” She looked past me and leaned back. “She’s coming.”
Debra joined us and immediately launched into a coughing fit. “Good grief,” she sputtered. “You’d think I was a smoker, huh? My mother used to cough like this and she was a two-pack-a-dayer, and the main reason I never started. Damned allergies.” She sipped her water. “Before you tell me your story, Katy, I have an announcement to make. I’m taking a leave of absence, effective as-of-now.” She saw Nora’s astonished face. “Don’t look at me like that. I only just came to that decision this morning. I feel like crud and I need to get my act together.”
“Is this a prelude to retirement?” asked Nora. “You’re only fifty-three, you know.”
“No. Not ready to throw in the towel yet. Maybe when I’m eighty-three, although some days I feel like I’m there already.” She patted Nora’s hand. “I just need to take a break and get well, that’s all.” Debra shifted to me. “That’s enough about me. I’m guessing you have more revelations about your charming ex?”
Chapter Forty-Two
BETTER DEAD THAN WED
SATURDAY • AUGUST 17
Posted by Katy McKenna
Tuesday, August 13
Part One
Last Tuesday I should have stayed in bed. Should have bolted the doors, shuttered the windows and binge-watched The Good Wife and Scandal all day long. But no. I’d promised Justin I would talk to my was-band one more time. And I always keep my promises.
Around eleven thirty, I cruised past Lisa’s house. Chad’s spotless black SUV looked out of place next to the tacky pink flamingos
lining the driveway.
I parked down the block and sat a while, building up my courage, thinking, I really need to stay out of this. I have enough problems of my own without sticking my nose into everyone else’s business. Then I heard Justin nagging me, “Trust me on this. You will feel better knowing you tried.”
Finally climbing out of the car, I muttered, “I sure hope Heather appreciates me.” At the pink-and-purple front door, I tapped ever-so-gently and waited a few seconds. “Oh, darn. Guess no one’s home.”
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” A yippy little canine pawed frantically on the other side of the door.
Was this déjà vu? The last time a dog was barking in a house I shouldn’t be visiting, it didn’t turn out well.
I bent, whispering through the doorjamb. “Shhh. Quiet, doggie. Shhh.”
The dog snuffled the bottom of the door, whimpering miserably. I started to leave, and then from somewhere deep inside the house, I heard Chad whimpering. “Help me. Please. Somebody help me.”
Maybe he’d fallen and couldn’t get up. Maybe I didn’t care. Let Lisa deal with him.
“Help me, pleeeaaase.”
“Oh for God’s sake.” I sighed, shaking my head. “So do not want to do this.” I held my breath and tried the doorknob. It was locked.
“Okay, you tried the door. Now call the police and leave.” Then my annoying good conscience said, Go around back and try another door.
I trudged through the front yard fairyland, sidestepping gnomes and creepy concrete forest creatures to the side of the house. And just my luck, the door next to the driveway was unlocked. Sometimes I really hate my good conscience.
I poked my head through the open door, keeping my feet planted outside. “Chad? You okay?”
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