by Alice Ward
“Sorry, Ben,” I said with an amused shrug. “I guess you didn’t make an impression.”
He blushed and looked at the ground, awkwardly shuffling his feet. “I suppose it would have been pretty weird, anyway.”
“Yeah. We can be friends, but I think me setting you up on dates crosses the line. I’m glad we talked things out, but I need to get back to my room. Linda will be bringing the kids in from recess soon.”
“Of course. Thanks, Emily. I’ll talk to you soon.”
He ducked back into the gym and I carried on toward my classroom, a thousand questions and scenarios going through my mind.
Ethan’s never mentioned anyone named Heather. And I’ve certainly never met any of his cousins. There’s only one explanation for this. The intruder had an accomplice. She came in to pinpoint my classroom, and he came back a few days later to tamper with the snacks. But why? Who were they trying to hurt, and which of us were just innocent bystanders?
I had tons of questions, but nowhere to go for answers. I was tempted to send Ethan a quick text and ask if he had a cousin named Heather, but I knew I had to wait until after school. Getting caught on my phone my first day back was the last thing I needed. I pushed the new information from Ben to the back of my head and met Linda and the kids as they filed in from outside.
“Can we have one more story time, Miss Kinkaid?” Stella Benton asked.
“Absolutely,” I agreed with an indulgent smile.
***
“Calm down, baby. Just take a deep breath. This will be over soon. And it won’t be as terrible as you think.”
I rumpled my face into a frown and gave Ethan my best “you’ve got to be kidding me” stare.
“Okay, that was a lie,” he agreed with an amused laugh. “It’s going to be God awful. But we’ll survive. And as soon as it’s over, I’m going to take you home and show you just how much I appreciate you sitting through this with me.”
A week had passed since Ethan stood up to his parents about our relationship. They’d reacted exactly how Ethan expected: they were pissed, but Victor hadn’t mentioned sabotaging Ethan’s spot on the team. Martha called Ethan that morning and insisted that we join them for dinner, so they’d have a chance to get to know me. Ethan and I both knew their motives weren’t as innocent as they’d have us believe.
“Are you sure I look okay?” I asked, smoothing the skirt of my emerald satin cocktail dress. We were eating at the Montez’s home, but I still felt underdressed.
“You look fantastic,” he assured me again. He turned the steering wheel to the left and the truck glided up a majestic cobblestone driveway. The house at the end of it looked more like a centuries-old resort than a single family home. The stone walls and thick glass windows looked as formidable as their owners.
“This is where you grew up?” I asked as Ethan slid the truck into park.
“Not really. Victor owned the place long before we met him. But we spent most of our time in Nevada so he could keep an eye on some of his bigger investments. Mom and Victor didn’t move in full time until after he started the team.”
“This place looks like it needs a drawbridge and moat.”
“I know. It’s Medieval and I hate it. But we don’t have to stay long. I promise we’ll make our escape the first chance we get. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I agreed with a sigh.
Ethan got out of the car and walked around to open my door. I took his arm and we walked up the stone steps together. When we reached the door, Ethan knocked once.
“You knock at your parents’ house?” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth.
“They like to keep things formal,” he explained.
The door swung open and a woman in an honest to God maid’s uniform greeted us with a warm smile.
“Mr. Ethan, it’s so good to see you. It’s been too long.”
“Thank you, Carlotta. It’s nice to see you too. This is my fiancé, Emily Kinkaid. Emily, this is Carlotta Moore. She’s taken care of me as long as I can remember.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Carlotta.”
“You too, Miss Emily.” She looked me up and down, smiling her approval before turning back to Ethan.
“Your mother and Victor are in the dining room enjoying a cocktail. Dinner will be ready shortly.”
“Looking forward to it. I guess we’d better go join them.”
Carlotta disappeared through a swinging oak door and Ethan led me through the expansive marble entryway. Oil paintings in antique gold frames adorned the walls and it seemed like everything I laid eyes on was made of glass or stone. I wondered if all of Ethan’s childhood homes had been that cold and unwelcoming.
We passed through a doorway into a formal dining room with the largest crystal chandelier I’d ever seen. A long, narrow table ran the center of the room, and Mr. and Mrs. Montez were already seated at the far end. They didn’t stand to greet us.
“Ethan, it’s about time you got here,” Victor greeted in a booming voice. “We were just about to pour our second round. Sit down.”
“Good evening Victor, Mother. It’s so nice to see you,” Ethan replied, ignoring the hostility in Victor’s voice. “I don’t believe you’ve met my fiancé. This is Emily. Emily, my stepfather, Victor.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Montez,” I offered.
“Yeah, you too,” he replied, staring at the table.
“Mother, you remember Emily?”
“Of course. It’s very nice to see you again, dear. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you,” I replied as Ethan pulled out two chairs opposite his parents. “I have to work tomorrow, so I’ll just stick with water.”
Marsha studied me for a moment, her nose turned up as if I smelled bad. “Very well, then. More for the rest of us. Ethan?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you, Mother.”
We sat in awkward silence for a few moments before I cleared my throat. “Thank you so much for having us over to dinner. It’ll be nice to have a chance to get to know each other.”
She sneered at me again and drained her glass. “So Ethan tells me you’re engaged, but I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
“We’re having Emily’s ring made,” Ethan replied. “I felt it was only right for a one of a kind woman to have a one of a kind ring. If all goes as planned, it will be ready early next week.”
“I’m sure it’ll be stunning,” Marsha said, her voice flat.
A few more moments of silence passed, and then Victor and Ethan launched into a lengthy strategy discussion about the team’s next playoff game. I zoned out of the conversation, very aware of Marsha’s piercing eyes on me.
It was tough to sit there and be polite when I had so many suspicions swimming around in my head. After my conversation with Ben, I casually asked Ethan if he had any cousins. He listed several, including a woman named Heather. When he questioned my curiosity, I told him I was working on the guest list for the wedding. I didn’t want to make any accusations about his family until I’d worked things out in my mind.
I was almost certain that Heather had been at the school under Marsha’s orders. Ethan’s mom had orchestrated the entire incident as a way to push me out of her son’s life. If it hadn’t been for the school’s security cameras, and my ex-boyfriend, she probably would have succeeded.
Marsha and I ate our roasted duck and vegetables in relative silence while the men continued talking about the upcoming game. When Carlotta finally cleared our plates, my heart danced at the thought that the evening was finally over. It had been boring, but relatively painless, and I wanted to escape while our luck held out. Victor and Marsha had other ideas.
Victor pushed his chair away from the table and motioned for Ethan to join him. “Let’s have a glass of brandy in the library. I ordered a box of Cubans the moment the embargo was lifted and they just arrived this morning.”
Ethan stood and threw a questioning glance my dire
ction. I gave him a slight nod, letting him know I could hold my own with his mother.
“Men will be men,” Marsha sang as they left the room. She moved to the nearby buffet and poured herself another cocktail.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something a little stronger?”
“I’m sure,” I replied. “I prefer not to drink on school nights.”
She nodded and returned to her chair. “But that will all change soon, right? I can’t imagine you’d keep teaching once you’re married to my son.”
“I love what I do, Mrs. Montez. I don’t plan to give up my career after I’m married.”
“With all due respect dear, I’m not sure corralling snot-nosed children for twenty-two thousand dollars a year quite counts as a career. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t give that up to stay at home and dote on Ethan.”
“First of all, my children aren’t snot-nosed,” I countered, trying and failing to keep calm. “And I’d never give up teaching, just like Ethan won’t give up football. You know better than anyone that he could afford not to work. He does it because he feels driven to.”
“And you’re the same way?” she pressed, her voice thick with doubt.
“Yes, I am. Mrs. Montez, I’m not a gold digger, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. I don’t need extravagant things. If I did, I’d have chosen a different profession and earned the extravagant things myself. I understand why you have your doubts. Ethan and I haven’t known each other that long, and our relationship has gotten very serious, very quickly. But I’m with him because I love him, no other reason.”
She looked at me, thoroughly amused. “That was a beautiful speech, darling. Tell me, was it your passion for the children that made you turn your back on that poor little boy until he was nearly dead?”
Her stabbing words cut through my last remaining ounce of self-control and I let my mouth fly without thinking. “Don’t you ever mention that child to me again,” I snarled. “How dare you? I’ve been sitting here all night biting my tongue because you’re Ethan’s mother and this is your house. But you just crossed the line. I know what you did, Marsha. And I’m going to prove it if it’s the last thing I do.”
Exaggerated shock washed over Marsha’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yes, you do. I know that you sent your niece to the school to figure out where my classroom was.”
“My niece?” she asked, still pretending to be confused. Her refusal to admit what she’d done fanned the flames of my rage.
“I know why you did it too,” I continued. “Ethan gave me the whole sick explanation. You have the gall to sit there and insinuate that I’m with Ethan for money. And the whole time you’re the one pulling strings and threatening children, all to make sure you inherit the bulk of Victor’s estate. Does your husband understand the lengths you’ve gone to to keep your hands on his cash? Or does he just do whatever you ask to keep you out of his face?”
“I knew you weren’t as sweet and innocent as Ethan wanted us to believe,” Marsha hissed. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Emily. I haven’t threatened anyone. I’m simply trying to ensure my son’s future happiness. And I’m quite certain he could never be happy with you. After the way you’ve spoken to me tonight, I’m even more determined to keep you away from my son.” She stood and pointed to the door. “Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll let Ethan know you’re waiting outside.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Geez, kiddo. That woman sounds like a real piece of work. Do you really think she was behind Alfie’s incident?” Uncle Walt asked.
I stabbed a bite of salad from my bowl and nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Walt. I haven’t figured out how Marsha knew about Alfie and his allergies. But I’m convinced she’s the one who sent those people to the school. I just don’t know how to prove it.”
I shoveled the ranch soaked lettuce into my mouth while Walt chased a mouthful of his BLT with iced tea.
“Is there any chance that PI of yours did any digging into the family’s past?” I asked after I swallowed.
He shook his head. “No. But I’ll have him get started on it asap. Honey, does Ethan know that you think his mother did this?”
“No,” I confessed. “I told him that Marsha and I had gotten into an argument over the wedding, and that’s why she kicked me out. I know he claims not to feel anything for her, but she’s still his mother. I don’t want to make any accusations until I have hard evidence to back them up. Anything less could just put too much stress on our relationship.”
“More stress than keeping the secret?” he pressed.
“Believe me, I’ve weighed all of my options. I want to be wrong, Walt. I love Ethan and in an ideal world, his family would eventually accept me. My gut tells me Marsha is guilty. But if I’m wrong, it would make for unnecessary drama for the rest of my life.”
“I agree with you. I’ll call the investigator as soon as we leave here. Aside from your horrendous night at Montez Manor, how’s life been going?”
“Fantastic. Being back at school feels so good. And everyone there has been so supportive. But everyone’s still a little on edge. We’ll all breathe a lot easier when we’re sure the school is safe again.”
“Have the police kept you up to date with their investigation?”
“Nope. I talked to Frank this morning. He said he’d call Nelson and ask if they’ve made any progress.”
My phone chimed and we both looked down at it expectantly. “Is that him?” Walt asked.
I read the number and shook my head. “I don’t recognize the number. It’s probably another reporter. Since Ethan and I announced our engagement, the phone’s been ringing off the hook.” I silenced the ringer and took another bite of my lunch.
“Speaking of engagements, have you and Ethan set a date?”
“Not yet. I’d like to have the wedding over the summer so I won’t have to juggle planning and work. Ethan’s talking about staying with the Stallions for another season, now that Victor’s stopped throwing threats around.”
“Do you have to invite them to the wedding?” Walt asked with exaggerated horror. “I’m not sure I can stomach them after everything you’d told me.”
“If I’m right about Marsha, that won’t be an issue,” I reminded him.
My phone rang again; this time, it was Frank.
“Maybe he learned something.” I answered the call and activated the speakerphone.
“Hi, Frank. Did you talk to Mr. Nelson?”
“Emily… no, I didn’t. Where are you right now?” he asked, his voice tense and pinched.
“We’re having lunch at Darla’s Café,” Walt answered for me. “What’s going on, Frank. Have the police found something else connecting Emily to the Hollis case?”
“Walt, thank God you’re there. No, this is unrelated to the Hollis case. I don’t want either of you to panic. I’m still not exactly sure what’s going on, but I think you should get down to the North Portland Police Station. I was just there on a pro bono case… Ethan was brought in.”
“Ethan was arrested?” I gasped.
“Yes. I’m not sure why. I’ve put in calls to everyone I know, but no one’s gotten back to me. I’ve thought about it, and I’m turning around and going back to the station. I’ll tell the cops I’m Ethan’s counsel. If his family’s lawyers aren’t there yet, I’ll have some time alone with him before they show up and boot me out.”
“We’re heading there right now,” Walt told him. He laid two twenties on the table, more than enough to cover our salads and teas. We raced out of the café, still on the line with Frank.
“Wait for me on the benches in the south atrium,” Frank instructed. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I’ve learned something.”
“Will do, Frank. Thank you for letting us know,” Walt replied.
I ended the call and Uncle Walt opened the passenger door of his black Charger. “Don’t panic, ki
ddo. I’m sure this is all some sort of misunderstanding.”
He slid behind the steering wheel and navigated the car into traffic.
“I missed eight calls while we were talking to Frank,” I told him, lifting my phone. “Four numbers I don’t recognize and four unknowns. What do you want to bet there are reporters all over the city who know more about what’s happening right now than I do? I’m going to google Ethan and see what the hell’s going on.”
“Don’t do it, Emily,” Walt insisted. “I mean it. I’ll pull this car over and take your phone away. You just had a firsthand lesson in the way the media bends the truth. Anything you find online will be sensationalized versions of the facts. Reading them will just make you feel worse.”
I knew he was right, but I was desperate to know why Ethan had been arrested.
“It feels like the nightmare is starting all over again. Only this time, Ethan and I have reversed roles.”
“Why don’t you call Melissa?” Walt suggested. “She may be able to shed light on things and she won’t add a bunch of hearsay and suppositions.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”
I hit Melissa’s speed dial and she answered halfway through the first ring.
“Emily,” she exhaled my name and I knew she’d been expecting and dreading my call.
“Frank just called and told me Ethan’s been arrested. Walt and I are on the way to the precinct.”
“How much do you know?” she asked, her voice hesitant with caution.
“That’s it. I’ve ignored a bunch of calls that I can only assume were from reporters and I haven’t looked online. How much do you know?”
“Late last week, someone called the league’s commissioner with an anonymous tip that several players on the Stallions have been doping. The league’s medical team showed up at the stadium this morning and surprise tested all of the players. Ethan didn’t pass.”
“He was arrested for doping?” The words felt strange in my mouth.
Uncle Walt was so caught off guard he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic.
“Not exactly. Victor was in the locker room when they confronted Ethan with the results. Ethan got a few punches in and Victor had him arrested for assault.”