The Last Time I Saw You

by Liv Constantine

Blaire felt her back go up at Simon’s choice of words. He was making it sound like Kate was crazy. Her friend hadn’t had a breakdown; she’d just gone through a difficult time.

  “Is your ego really that big? Like you were the sainted hero who brought her back to life? She was already on the mend that fall. Anyone would have had a hard time coping with what happened. And now––Lily’s death, the threats––anyone would feel the pressure. Kate’s a strong woman. A surgeon. She’s not going to lose herself. And you can bet your ass that I’m not going anywhere as long as Kate wants me here. I don’t give a damn if you like it or not.” And she didn’t. He wanted Blaire gone because she was getting close to the truth.

  After seeing her reaction to Finding Nemo two nights ago, she wasn’t sure how strong Kate actually was now, but she wasn’t going to let Simon know that.

  She thought back to that Fourth of July weekend after their junior year in college when it had all come crashing down. A somberness had hung over the beach house as they grieved. Kate had been withdrawn and quiet, like a hurt animal. Blaire would hear her in the middle of the night, wandering around the house. She awakened early one morning and seen that once again Kate’s bed hadn’t been slept in. When she went downstairs, she found Kate in one of the rocking chairs on the screened porch, staring straight ahead as the chair moved furiously back and forth.

  “Kate.” Blaire had knelt beside the chair, resting a hand on its arm. “Are you all right? Have you slept at all?”

  Suddenly the chair had stopped, and Kate glared at her. “Leave me alone,” she shouted, jumping up from the rocker. “All of you. Leave me alone. Why are you bothering me?” She ran into the house in tears.

  Blaire had been frozen for a moment, not understanding what had just happened, but as the days progressed, they all began to see it. Kate hadn’t been sleeping or eating; she was tense and on edge all of the time, having angry outbursts over nothing. She stayed in the house, refusing to step foot on the beach or go anywhere, especially if it involved getting in the car. Late one night, when Kate seemed a trifle calmer than she had in the last weeks, Blaire saw an opportunity to try and talk to her. They were on the porch again, where Kate was spending practically all her waking hours. “I know how sad you are, Kate, how hard this is. But I’m really worried about you. It feels like you’re sinking, like you’re coming apart before my eyes. I don’t know how to help you.”

  Kate was silent.

  “Kate,” she’d pressed. “Talk to me.”

  Kate had turned her head slowly and looked at Blaire. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.” The rocker swung crazily as she jumped up from it and began to pace. “There’s this pressure around my lungs, and it’s going to suffocate me, like a bubbling in my chest that’s going to explode. I can’t think straight, I can’t sleep—if I try, the nightmares come. I can’t stop crying. I can’t keep doing this.”

  “You need to talk to someone, Kate. Now.”

  But Lily and Harrison were one step ahead of Blaire. Harrison had already made arrangements for Kate to meet with her old therapist. She’d told them that Kate was suffering from acute stress disorder. She adjusted Kate’s medicine and saw her three times a week the rest of that summer. When September came, and Kate returned to Yale, she was coping better, and was referred to a therapist in Connecticut who she saw as needed. And then she’d met Simon.

  Blaire looked at Simon now. “Are you going to let Kate know I’m here, or shall I text her and tell her you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  He gave her a sour look, turned away without a word, and climbed the stairs.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen,” she called after him, shrugging off her coat as she walked away.

  She felt at home in Kate’s kitchen now, and she pulled out some plates and napkins. There were three candles burning, filling the room with the smell of vanilla. The scent made her hungry. She was tempted to grab a cookie, but she had only used the fitness center at the Four Seasons a few times since she’d come to town, and her clothes already felt uncomfortably snug. Pulling a bottle of Fiji water from the refrigerator, she took a long swallow. She looked up when she heard footsteps and had to stop herself from showing how shocked she was at Kate’s appearance. Her yoga pants were hanging off of her, and the circles under her eyes were practically black.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kate said. “I took a nap after lunch. Or at least I tried to.” She spotted the box of cookies, and her lips curled into a half smile, the first one Blaire had seen in a while. “Bergers!” She lifted the box and peeked inside. “Bless you!” She took one out and bit into it. “Mmmm. Just what the doctor ordered.”

  “You look like you need to eat the whole box. Your pants are practically falling off.”

  Kate shrugged. “Well, having a killer after you does wonders for your figure.”

  At least Kate hadn’t lost her sense of humor, Blaire thought. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Simon wasn’t around and addressed her friend in a low voice. “Listen, I found some interesting photos on Sabrina’s Facebook page. Is there somewhere more private we can talk?”

  A flash of anger crossed Kate’s face at the mention of Sabrina’s name. “Sure, we can go to the study.” When they entered the homey room with the dark green walls. Kate flipped the switch to the gas fireplace. Blaire stared a moment at the soothing flames. All the curtains were drawn, clearly in response to the text about the sweatshirt two days ago. Kate picked up her laptop, and they sat next to each other on the small love seat.

  Kate opened her browser and turned to face Blaire. “How did you see her Facebook page? Did you friend her?”

  “No,” Blaire said, rolling her eyes. “The loony bird has no privacy settings. I’m thinking she wants the whole world to watch her live her amazing life. We should introduce her to Gordon.”

  “Not amusing,” Kate said. “He won’t stop calling me. I had to block his number from my cell phone. He even showed up here, and they told him they’d call the cops if he didn’t leave.”

  “What a nut job. This was after you fired him?”

  “Yes. Anderson gave us the okay after they searched his place. Simon is having everything moved to another firm. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “Did you tell his partners about the photos?”

  Kate shook her head. “No. As angry as I am about what he did, I’m not out to ruin his life.”

  Blaire didn’t know whether she agreed with that decision. Those stalker types took any kindness as an encouragement. “Maybe you should get a restraining order.”

  “Simon wanted to, but I said no. But he did tell Gordon that if he comes anywhere near me ever again, he would. It’s not a priority right now, seeing as how I’m practically a prisoner in my own home.”

  Blaire pulled up Sabrina’s Facebook page. “Here, look.” She pointed to the photos. “Half of them are her with Simon. You haven’t ever looked at this?”

  “No. I guess I’m the only person under forty who doesn’t do Facebook. Selby set up an account for me a few years ago, but I just don’t have the time or inclination. It all seems so pointless.” She turned her attention to Sabrina’s photos. As she flipped through picture after picture, she seemed mesmerized, her face growing paler and paler as she studied each one. She came to one of Simon and Sabrina standing against the railing of a boat, the sky dark behind them. There were party lights strung up and other people near them milling about with drinks in their hands. Sabina’s smile was megawatt, and next to the photo was the caption “AIA Conference on Architecture: Emerging Professionals Party Cruise.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Kate blurted.

  Blaire was taken aback. Kate never cursed.

  Kate looked through the photos once again. “Look at these,” she said in disgust. “You would think they were a couple.”

  “Were you there when any of these were taken?”

  “Some. Not many, though. Definitely not the conferences. He’s very conveniently ma
de no mention of Sabrina attending any work-related functions.” She slammed the computer shut and looked at Blaire. “What else is he lying about? I can’t trust anything he tells me. He was so angry with Gordon. Probably all an act to make it look like he’s worried about me.”

  “Do you think something is going on between them?”

  “I don’t know. Before Sabrina came around, I would never have believed he’d cheat. But things are different now. I’m starting to doubt everything. All those years ago, when Mother and I fought about making him sign a prenup . . . I wonder if she saw something in him that I didn’t. He’s never in all the years we’ve been together given me any reason to believe he married me for money. But lately . . . I don’t know. . . . Some of the things he’s said . . .” She looked at the floor.

  “Like what?” Blaire asked, thinking back to what Gordon had told her about Simon’s firm’s financial problems.

  Kate sighed. “Something at the reading of the will. It struck me at the time, but I dismissed it.” She was staring at the floor again, miles away, it seemed. Blaire decided not to push her further today, sensing that Kate had said all she wanted on the topic.

  Anderson was right about one thing: Kate had good reason to be suspicious of everyone around her. And Blaire was not going to stop until she had eliminated each one of them.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  ....................................

  17

  When Kate and Simon picked the lot on which they were going to build their dream house, she’d been happy about the seclusion and the expanse of woods that the house backed up to. Now it seemed like the perfect place for a killer to hide. The next morning, she strode with purpose around the house, peering out each window to see if anyone had snuck onto the property and was lurking somewhere in the dense brush. Satisfying herself that all was secure, she began her rounds again, opening every closet door in every room, searching for anyone or anything that might be hiding. She knew the house was surrounded by security, but it made her feel better to actually do something.

  Christmas was in two days, and she was dreading it. The loss of her mother was too close to the holidays for Kate to believe she could ever forget the horror now attached to it. The threatening words of the nursery rhymes played over and over in her head, as if on a loop, and the image of those poor brutalized animals was seared into her brain.

  She’d declined all the invitations they’d received, even low-key lunch dates with friends, needing to be at home. But when Selby had called to invite them to dinner, she’d caught Kate in a moment of lonesomeness, and she had relented.

  Kate was quiet on the drive to Selby and Carter’s. She sat with Simon and Annabelle in the back seat of the black Suburban supplied by the security company and driven by their bodyguard. The doors of the vehicle were apparently reinforced steel, the windows bulletproof. After yesterday, though, she was convinced that all the security in the world wasn’t enough to save her. This person wasn’t coming after her with a gun. Whoever it was would get in close and personal, just like they had with her mother.

  Simon and Annabelle chatted the entire way, but Kate only half listened. She was beginning to feel the familiar signs: her pulse quickening, her breathing becoming shallow. This hadn’t been a good idea.

  “Simon, we should go home. This was a mistake.”

  “Kate, please. Try to relax.” He put a reassuring hand on her arm. “It will do you good to get out a little, to be with good friends.”

  “Maybe.” She supposed he could be right.

  A little less than an hour later, Kate looked around the table as the white-gloved waitstaff served a first course of salmon rillettes. Selby had gone to a lot of trouble. The dazzling candlelight of the crystal chandelier made the damask-covered table even more luminous. Lily and Georgina had both been particular about how their tables were laid, but Selby was positively obsessive. There was hardly an inch of space on the surface of the table, it was so filled with china, crystal, silverware, and Christmas greens. Kate fingered the four sterling repoussé forks next to her plate, over a century old, the same pattern as her mother’s own silverware. They were made by a Baltimore company, S. Kirk & Son, America’s oldest silversmiths. She thought of sitting around her mother’s dining room table at Christmas and felt her eyes fill just as Carter, at the head of the table, gently clinked his wineglass and lifted it in a toast.

  “To our wonderful friends and family,” he said. “Thank you for coming tonight. It’s good that we can be together to help each other through this sad time.”

  Kate felt warmed by his words. It was comforting to be surrounded by old friends, and she was glad Simon hadn’t listened when she suggested they turn around.

  “Lovely sentiment, Carter,” Georgina said.

  Silence settled heavily as they raised their glasses. Selby’s sons—Bishop, Tristan, and Carter IV—were holding wineglasses filled with soda, while Annabelle twirled a colorful cartoon cup in her hands, and of course Selby had made sure Kate’s wine goblet was filled with her usual soda water. Kate smiled at Selby’s brother, Palmer, who sat across from her. She had always liked him. Although he was two years older than his sister, he’d always been kind to Selby’s friends, never making them feel like annoying little pests, like a lot of older brothers did. He’d lived in London the last sixteen years, working as a senior lecturer at the London School of Economics. She’d met his partner, a stage actor with the Royal Shakespeare Company, on two occasions when she and Simon were in England. Unlike Selby, he had escaped the rigidity of his mother’s ordered and hierarchical world, where appearances mattered above all else. He had seemed content, happy and unguarded, very much at home in his adopted country.

  “It’s so good to see you again,” Kate said, smiling at him. “How is James? It’s a shame he couldn’t come.”

  “He’s busy. In rehearsal right now for The Tempest. Prospero. Opens in three weeks. He’s either reciting lines or making illegible notes in the three annotated volumes he’s studying.”

  “Sounds intense.”

  “Extremely. He hardly has time for anything else.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to miss him this time. When do you head back?”

  “I’m leaving on the twenty-fifth. He and I will do Christmas on Boxing Day.” His face became serious. “James only met your mother once, but he was enchanted. I’m so sorry. She was a lovely woman, Kate.”

  “Thank you.” Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “How is the investigation going?”

  She felt the fear rise up in her as everything that had happened in the past few days ran through her mind. The police still didn’t want her to tell anyone else about the messages and texts. She focused on keeping her voice even. “There’s not much progress, I’m afraid. Everything seems to lead to a dead end.”

  Palmer shook his head in sympathy as the first course was being cleared.

  Georgina’s voice rang out. “Delicious salmon rillettes, Selby. Your cook has done a nice job.” She looked her stiffly impeccable self in her cream-colored silk suit, not a blond hair out of place. She wore her customary three-strand pearl necklace, the same one she’d worn forever. She’d moved her engagement and wedding rings to her right hand; her left, the veins on it slightly raised, a few age spots beginning to appear, was bare.

  “But dear,” Georgina said, fingering the holly on the centerpiece in front of her, “your greens look a bit tired. How long ago did you have them cut?”

  Kate watched Selby deflate, the same way she had as a little girl when Georgina shamed her. She watched as Georgina took a delicate sip of wine, replaced her glass, and turned to face Harrison, who was sitting next to her. She leaned closer, until her lips were practically touching his ear, and whispered something. Harrison nodded as she spoke, his eyes cast down at the table.

  Kate stared at them, frowning, and then leaned back in her chair as a server placed a steaming dish bef
ore her.

  “All right,” Selby said. “This is in homage to my brother and his unaccountable love of British cuisine. Roast lamb, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, roasted potatoes, and cheese cauliflower. Bon appetit, everyone.”

  A few moments of silence passed as everyone ate. “Perfect, Sis,” Palmer said between bites. “James will be devastated he missed it.”

  “You know,” Georgina said, putting her fork down and turning to Harrison, “this reminds me of the time the four of us went to England and France together. You and Lily and Bishop and I. Remember?”

  “I do,” Harrison said. “That was a great trip.”

  Georgina beamed, her blue eyes shining. “We stayed in that beautiful B&B in Kensington, near Hyde Park. You both worked so hard in those days, so many nights and weekends that Lily and I were practically single moms. Sometimes we even had to leave you behind for vacation. Remember that time she and I took the children to the Isle of Palms?” She leaned forward, warming to her subject. “We booked the most marvelous house, with a screened-in porch that looked right at the ocean. It had those wonderful ceiling fans that just kept turning lazily all day, keeping things just cool enough so that you didn’t faint from the heat and humidity. Then it would cool down at night, and we’d enjoy the sound of crashing waves. In the morning, everything was damp and fresh. It was just divine.” She took a sip of wine, her food untouched. “Anyway, the husbands never made it, of course, so there we were, all on our own with Palmer, Selby, and Kate scrambling around like wild little Indians.”

  “We don’t use characterizations like that anymore, Mother,” Palmer scolded good-naturedly. “Besides, you were hardly on your own, with two nannies and a cook.”

  At this there was laughter around the table.

  Georgina gave her son a bright smile. He had always been her favorite, the child she doted on—the one who could get away with “teasing” his mother, and whose coming out of the closet she’d surprisingly not just accepted but embraced. “Don’t laugh,” she said, winking at Palmer. “It wasn’t the same as being at our own beach houses. We were in a new and unfamiliar place where we didn’t really know anyone. Lily convinced me that it would do us good to do some exploring, and we left the kiddies with the nannies and drove into Charleston, walked around, shopped, and then . . . we went to a drag queen show.” She paused, letting the silence hover for effect.