The Last Mrs. Parrish
Page 33
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve come from Jackson’s office. The FBI just took him out of his office in handcuffs. Seems they got access to his offshore accounts. Pity. He never paid taxes on that money. I’m pretty sure when all is said and done, you’ll be lucky if the two of you can afford to live in your old apartment. That is, if they don’t give him jail time, but knowing Jackson, he’ll figure a way out of that. He’ll have to deplete all his resources, of course. Maybe you can help him start a new business.”
“You’re lying.” Her voice was shrill.
Daphne shook her head. “You know that male assistant you made sure he hired so there’d be no funny business at the office? Douglas? Well, he’s an old friend of mine. See, his sister does have CF. Julie’s Smile has been a tremendous help to his family. He’s been spying on Jackson, and he finally got the account numbers he needed to go to the feds. Take a good look around. You may not have all this for long.” She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “But at least you still have Jackson.”
Daphne walked out of the house for the last time. As the driver pulled away, she watched as the house receded from sight. How different it looked to her now from when she’d first seen it. Settling back against the seat, she took in, for the last time, the magnificence of each house they passed, and wondered what secrets each of them held. She grew lighter with each passing mile, and when they drove out of the pristine borders of Bishops Harbor, she left the pain and shame she’d lived with while she was still its prisoner behind her. A new life awaited—one where no one terrorized her in the middle of the night or made her pretend to be something she was not. A life where her children would grow up secure and loved, free to be whomever and whatever they desired to be.
She looked up at the sky and imagined her beloved Julie watching from above. She pulled out a pen and the small notepad she kept in her purse and began to write.
My darling Julie,
I often wonder if I’d have made different choices if you were still here. A sister can keep you from making those big mistakes. You wouldn’t have allowed my need to save everyone blur my vision. If only I could have saved you, maybe I would have tried harder to save myself.
How I miss confiding in you, in having that one person that I always knew was in my corner no matter what, sharing my life. And how foolish I was to think that I could ever find that same solace from anyone else.
I suppose I have been looking for you everywhere since I lost you. But I know now, I didn’t lose you. You’re still here. In the twinkle in Bella’s eyes and the kindness in Tallulah’s heart. You live on in them and in me, and I’ll hold tight to the precious memories of the time we had together until, one day, we are reunited. I feel you watching over me: you are the warmth of the sun as I romp with your nieces on the beach, the cool breeze that caresses my cheek in the evenings, the feeling of peace that now resides in the place of turmoil. And despite my desperate wish to have you back, I must believe that you, too, are finally at peace, forever free from the disease that bound you.
Remember when we saw our first Shakespeare play? You were just fourteen and I was sixteen, and we both thought Helena was a fool for wanting a man who didn’t want her. It occurs to me that I’ve become Helena in reverse.
And so, my dear Julie, a chapter has closed and a new one begun.
I love you
Daphne put the notebook in her purse and leaned back. Smiling and looking up, she whispered the Bard’s famous words from that play she and Julie had seen so long ago:
“The king’s a beggar, now the play is done:
All is well ended . . .”
Acknowledgments
Long before a book is born, there is a group comprised of friends, family, and professionals that make its eventual existence possible. We are deeply grateful to them for their indispensable roles in that process.
To our wonderful agent, Bernadette Baker-Baughman of Victoria Sanders & Associates, thank you for being our biggest champion and advocate and for making the journey so enjoyable with your graciousness, wit, and dedication. You are an answer to a prayer, and it is a joy to work with you.
To our fabulous editor, Emily Griffin, your infectious excitement and dedication to excellence took the story to the next level and made it so much better than we ever could have done without you.
To the stellar team at Harper, thank you for your excitement about the book and all you did to make it happen. Jonathan Burnham, thank you for your electrifying enthusiasm and most inspiring note, making us certain we’d found the right publishing home. Jimmy Iacobelli, who designed our brilliant cover, and the creative team who designed the interior pages – we fell in love with your vision the minute we laid eyes on it. Thanks to Nikki Baldauf for her expert steering through copyediting and production. Heather Drucker and the PR team, thank you for your incredible passion and talent. Katie O’Callaghan and the marketing team, we know we are in the very best of hands. Huge thanks to Virginia Stanley and the amazing Library Sales team for a fantastic job getting the early word out. Deepest appreciation to Carolyn Bodkin, who worked so diligently in managing the foreign rights. To Amber Oliver (aka the Other Amber), and to all the incredibly hard working people at HarperCollins, our deepest gratitude for all you do.
Appreciation and love to our sisters-in-law and sisters in heart, Honey Constantine and Lynn Constantine for reading, rereading, reading again, and cheering and encouraging us every step of the way.
To Christopher Ackers, wonderful son and nephew, for listening in and offering advice on our numerous plot conversations and always infusing them with your customary humor.
Thank you to our beta readers: Amy Bike, Dee Campbell, Carmen Marcano-Davis, Tricia Farnworth, Lia Gordon, and Teresa Loverde, your enthusiasm was a great motivator.
To the wonderful authors and friends who make up the Thrillerfest community, an incredible well of camaraderie, understanding, and mutual support, many thanks.
To David Morrell for your thoughtful advice. Thank you for always being available to talk.
To Jaime Levine for your continual support and encouragement and being there from the beginning.
To Gretchen Stelter, our first editor. You brought clarity and insights that ratcheted up the tension and made the manuscript more compelling.
Thanks to Carmen Marcano-Davis for your psychological expertise that helped us to shape Jackson, and to Chris Munger for authenticating the FBI scenes in the book.
To Patrick McCord and Tish Fried of Write Yourself Free for sharing your talent and skill. Your workshops made us better writers.
Lynne thanks her husband, Rick, and her children, Nick and Theo, for their unwavering support and forbearance while she spent hours locked in her office skyping with Valerie on plot lines or working late into the night to meet deadlines. And to Tucker, for always being by her side while she works. All my love to all of you always.
Valerie thanks her husband, Colin, for his constant encouragement and support, and her children, her greatest cheerleaders. I love you all.
About the Author
Liv Constantine is the pen name of sisters Lynne Constantine and Valerie Constantine. Separated by three states, they spend hours plotting via FaceTime and burning up each other’s e-mails. They attribute their ability to concoct dark story lines to the hours they spent listening to tales handed down by their Greek grandmother. You can find more about them at: livconstantine.com.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
the last mrs. parrish. Copyright © 2017 by Lynne Constantine and Valerie Constantine. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions
. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
first edition
Cover design by James Iacobelli
Cover type © Pashabo / Shutterstock
Digital Edition October 2017 ISBN: 978-0-06-266759-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-266757-1
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