by Lisa Jackson
They talked for a bit more, but as McCrae was winding up the conversation, Sutton said, “Meet me at the Bengal Room, and let’s talk about a few more things.”
“When I can. I’m a bit busy now.”
“You gotta talk to Masterer, right? Come on by tonight around . . . uh . . . seven-thirty or so? There’s a chance you’ll see him, and there’re a few other things I wanna talk over.”
“You want to give me a preview on that?” McCrae asked, uncertain when he would be able to make time for a tête-à-tête with West Knoll High’s old coach.
“Okay, well, I always meant to talk to you about the senior barbecue. I got blamed a lot for it, and I guess I blamed myself.”
McCrae glanced at the time, hoping this wasn’t going to be a long jawboning session. Reminiscing was fine, but he remembered how Coach used to go on and on about things.
“I didn’t go out in the woods like so many of ya, so I don’t know what happened out there, exactly. Just heard rumors. Like . . . um . . . well, you were out there, with Ellie O’Brien.”
McCrae felt a fresh jolt of embarrassment. Well, hell. “Yeah . . . ,” he allowed cautiously.
“Okay, okay, I’ll save the rest for later. See you tonight,” the coach said, apparently waking up to the fact he was moving into uncomfortable territory for McCrae.
McCrae clicked off. He hoped his face-to-face with Coach Sutton was going to be more than a walk down memory lane from a time he would rather bury in the back of his mind.
* * *
Zora couldn’t think. Tanner was dead. Carmen, Bailey, and now Tanner were all dead. Her friends and her classmates. Two of the Five Firsts and the boy they’d all circled around.
Once again, she recalled making out with Tanner. Fast and hurried and hidden. He’d held his hand over her mouth because she’d had an attack of the giggles that wouldn’t quit, and there had been other people in her house.
Oh, if they’d only truly gotten together, made a baby. Zora had cried at Delta and Tanner’s wedding, and though she’d sworn it was tears of happiness, it felt like something important had gotten away from her.
He was supposed to be the father of your children. Owen should be yours.
Well, hell.
Brushing back her tears, she grabbed a tissue in the master bath and blew her nose, shuddered at her reflection. She looked like a hag.
Painstakingly, she applied new makeup, adding a lot of blush because she was just so pale, almost gray. Satisfied with the results, she dug through her closet and found her light gray coatdress with the tailored pockets. She slid her feet into black flats, Manolos, then grabbed up a soft, black leather bag with a thin chain strap that she slipped over her shoulder.
Her house felt empty, even though Brian was in his office. It felt cold, too. She wished she had her car, but it was still at the hospital. She shouldn’t have allowed Amanda to drive her home, but she couldn’t remember one minute of that trip, so she probably would’ve been driving blind anyway and was lucky to be alive.
But now. Now she needed to get out.
She called for an Uber and fifteen minutes later was on the road to the hospital. At the Laurelton General parking lot, she thanked the driver and then found her car, a white Mercedes sedan that matched her husband’s in everything but color. His was black.
She drove to the mall and wandered aimlessly around, buying a new thousand-dollar handbag. The purses were with the hats and scarves and near the shoes. Jewelry was on one side, and she stopped to finger a silver bracelet. She then went to the shoe department and spent ten minutes deciding between a pair of fiery red heels by an up-and-coming Italian designer or another pair of Manolos in silver.
She decided to buy them both and was waiting at the register when a woman with a boy of around five came in. The kid was bouncing in his shoes, walking behind her. She stopped and looked at the same bracelets Zora had just examined, and the little boy bounced into the shoe department. Zora paid for her shoes and then turned toward him. He was about five feet away.
“Hey, there,” she said, squatting down, putting her packages on the floor around her.
He stared at her. “You bought stuff.”
“Lots of stuff. You wanna see?”
He nodded and trotted toward her. Remembered. Started bouncing again.
She opened the bag that held the purse. It was a dark green. “I think it’s the same color as dinosaurs.”
“No.” He shook his head.
“No? There’s a toy store down the mall. I bet we could find one there the same color.”
Zora’s heart was pounding. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. He reminded her of Owen. She’d seen the Facebook posts from Delta, although she’d really fallen off posting recently.
“I know that store!” he said, delighted.
Zora slid her eyes around. No one was paying her any attention, least of all the boy’s mom. What was wrong with her?
“You wanna go?” Zora whispered.
“Yeah! Rrraaaarrr!” he yelled, clawing the air in an imitation of a T. rex.
“What’s your name?”
“Tyler.”
“Well, Tyler. Let’s go see what’s at the store.”
“I’ll tell Mom!” And he raced off to tell his mother before Zora could stop him. She quickly headed for the open doorway into the center of the mall, then made her pace drop to a stroll, heart pounding. She was just going to the toy store and he’d wanted to come along, that’s all. Nothing wrong with that.
She heard his loud voice urging his mom to let him go. She didn’t look back.
“She said she’d take me!” he cried.
Oh, shit.
“Who did?” the mom asked suspiciously.
“She did!”
And then Zora heard running footsteps behind her. The boy’s. He caught up to her with a determined look on his face. “You didn’t wait!”
“Excuse me,” his mother said. Zora glanced back at her, heart pounding. “Don’t talk to my son anymore. If I want him to go to the toy store, I’ll take him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zora said staunchly.
They were standing in the center of the mall by now. Tyler was gazing at her with an angry expression. “You said you’d take me,” he insisted.
“I don’t know what’s going on. Just stay away from me.” The woman grabbed her son by the shoulders.
Zora was so shaken she nearly peed herself.
“Ma’am . . .” They both turned to see a woman in a navy-blue suit approach from the store. She had a tiny badge on her breast.
“Oh, fuck!” Tyler’s mother exploded, then said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it.”
She handed over the silver bracelet she apparently still had clutched in her hand as she’d chased Zora out of the store.
Zora turned away from the whole scene and walked stiffly down the mall and out a side door. She found her way back to her car and sank behind the wheel. Tears filled her eyes.
After a few moments, she turned the ignition and drove herself home. Brian was still in his office, and she almost banged on his door but didn’t.
Instead, she went into their master bedroom and changed her clothes, putting on some comfy Lululemon pants and a top. She wandered into the kitchen and found some chips and a dish of pico de gallo and took them both into the TV room, where she’d seen the news about Tanner yesterday.
She watched HGTV blankly and ate her chips. It was 5:00, and the news would be on again soon. The whole world would learn of Tanner Stahd’s death.
Feeling really low, she took her empty bowls back to the kitchen and went to her bedroom, where she’d thrown her coatdress across her silk duvet. Digging in one of the pockets, she drew out the silver bracelet, identical to the one the woman had accidentally run out of the store with.
Opening the bottom drawer of the bank of drawers designated as hers in the walk-in closet, she added to the small pile of keepsakes she’d been “
given” by the major retailers in the mall. She’d been very careful about not being caught, but today had been a close one.
She heard the door to the office squeak open, and she hurriedly tucked everything away and walked back into the bedroom. She was hanging up her dress when Brian stood in the open doorway.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, and only then did she realize how shaken she was.
“I was at the hospital when it happened,” she said tearily.
“What?”
“When he died. I was there.”
Brian’s face slackened. “Tanner?”
“Yes. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”
He was gobsmacked. “No.”
“What is it?”
“God, this is bad timing, but when is it ever good timing?” He ran his hands through his hair and said, “I want a divorce.”
* * *
Delta’s parents had decided to close the grocery store early for a family emergency, so they were at her parents’ house, where Mom fixed spaghetti and meatballs, Owen’s favorite. They were all still trying to figure out how to tell him about his father when the local news came on . . . and Tanner’s death was one of the lead stories.
“. . . prominent West Knoll physician Dr. Tanner Stahd died as a result of his injuries from a vicious attack earlier this week . . .”
Owen, who’d been playing with Legos, looked up at the screen, frowning. “What did they say?”
Mom swept in, “Come in the kitchen, Owen. I need help serving up.”
“But . . .”
Delta was already searching for the remote, which seemed nowhere in sight. She gave up and headed for the television, but couldn’t immediately find the OFF button. Her father said a shade too heartily, “I want the biggest meatball. You’re going to have to fight me for it.”
“Were they talking about Dad?” Owen asked.
“They were saying some things.” Delta nodded. “I told you there was an accident. A terrible accident.”
“Is he dead?” Owen asked, his voice rising in horror.
“I’m afraid . . . so.” She reached for him, but he ran into the kitchen and grabbed his grandmother, who held him close.
Delta was turning to follow after them both, when Lester Stahd’s voice boomed across the airwaves. She swiveled back to the television to see him in an interview with Ellie on the patch of ground just outside the hospital that separated the parking lot from the main building.
“. . . killed my son. I have proof,” he was saying.
“What kind of proof?” Ellie asked him.
“She was always after the money. Everybody knew it, even my boy . . . my boy knew it, too.” His voice cracked. “But I don’t count on the police helping to put her away. I have to sue her myself and hope the D.A. brings charges.”
“Lord,” Dad said, wiping his hands over his face.
Delta stared, glassy-eyed. Tanner’s father was shredding her reputation. He truly believed she was guilty. That she’d married his son for the financial support and prestige.
“Do you know a good lawyer?” her father asked, his voice quavering a bit.
Delta stared at the television, unable to completely turn it off. It was fascinating, like watching a deadly snake devour a live animal. It was horrible, and impossible to unsee.
“Amanda,” she said, heading for Owen, who had lifted his tear-streaked face from the comfort of her mother to reach an arm out to her.
“Is she . . . will she do a good job for you?” her father asked.
She swept up her boy and held him close, his little arms wrapped tightly around her neck. Burying her face into him, she said, her voice muffled, “She’s one of the best criminal defense attorneys around.”
And once upon a time we were friends.
Chapter 19
Amanda finally listened to Delta’s message.
The call had come in at about 6:30, but Amanda had let it go to voice mail and then purposely hadn’t checked it till nearly 9:00. She’d known it was from Delta; she’d had her number in her call list since high school. She’d purposely ignored today’s call. Years had passed, but Amanda still felt raw and competitive about her onetime BFF. If Delta was reaching out to her, it had to be about Tanner, and Amanda just didn’t feel like going over it with the wife.
But . . . she was also eaten up with curiosity. That fact alone made her force herself not to listen to the call before it was time. Discipline. Amanda lived by it, an aspect of her character she’d sorely lacked when she was younger. Purposely, she’d switched her phone to SILENT, then gone to visit her brother at Woodview Village, the retirement community where he’d lived for the past five years. Her parents had abdicated responsibility for him almost from the moment they all learned that the automobile accident that had nearly taken his life had stolen his ability to mature into an adult. His brain had suffered irreparable harm and left him at about a fifth-grade level of understanding. Amanda’s parents had left her the house and grounds with the understanding that she was to take care of Thom. She’d done so with resentment for five years.
Her parents had magically disappeared from her life and Thom’s. After Mom realized Amanda wasn’t going to be the darling of stage and screen, she’d lost interest in her. She’d had even less interest in Thom, so she’d talked their father into moving to Palm Desert, where he worked as an estate lawyer for all the retirees in the community and she got to be the queen of the desert, apparently. They’d basically severed their relationship with their children, and so Amanda and Thom were on their own, and Amanda was the parent.
Fine. She didn’t like them any more than they liked her.
At Woodview Village tonight, Thom had been exactly the same, remarking about the dinner that they shared, refusing all vegetables, and talking about the characters in video games as if they were his friends. As ever, Amanda told him he should watch his diet, while she barely listened to his chatter. She’d made all the arrangements for his care long ago and now just needed to show up every once in a while and pretend to be attentive. She didn’t know how she felt about Thom these days. His regression to his current state had alarmed her and sent her parents flying out of their lives completely. But he’d stabilized, and this is what was left, so Amanda made sure he was safe and comfortable and left it at that. Though her parents had given her their estate to sell, she’d chosen to keep the asset and pay for Thom’s care out of her own earnings. She hadn’t made partner yet, thanks to her loathsome ex, whose jealousy of her success compared to his own weaker abilities—he’d made partner only because he’d had family money that he’d invested in the firm—had kept her from that coveted position. Every time she threatened to leave, however, the other partners scrambled around and found her more money. Hal’s thin-lipped acceptance was worth staying for, too. Cheater. Bastard. All-around fuckhead. But in a sense, she’d married him for his money and connections also, so c’est la vie.
Now Amanda plucked her phone from her purse as she headed down the concrete outdoor steps of the retirement community. She’d stayed late with Thom tonight, a test to see how long she could keep from checking on Delta’s phone message, and she’d made it till the sun was going down. It was amazing how late that could still be at the end of July. When Delta’s name had popped onto Amanda’s cell screen, she’d been extremely curious. She knew Delta hated her, whereas she didn’t really feel the same way about her. She just wanted to always beat her at her game. Delta had always been the pretty one, although she’d put on a few extra pounds around the time of the reunion, which had tickled Amanda pink. But then Hal had been determined to antagonize Amanda that night, making friends with all her classmates as if he were the best buddy of all, putting on that oh-so-agreeable personality that he dropped at the door to their house, never bringing it inside. Amanda had figured that out early in the relationship and recognized she had to get what she could from the marriage before it was over. She’d told Delta at the reunion to divorce Tanner l
ike she was divorcing Hal, but Delta had been taken aback and somewhat horrified—it was soooo her.
And extra pounds or no, Delta had looked good that night. It was just a shitty fact. She’d been attractive in high school, but at the reunion she’d been . . . delicious. That was the word Hal had used to describe her that night, knowing it would piss Amanda off, which it did, even though it was true. Hal had smiled evilly at Amanda over his drink, sliding long, lingering glances over Delta’s voluptuous figure whenever he caught Amanda looking. In answer, Amanda had used Tanner to bait both Delta and Hal, and Tanner was so easily attained. Once upon a time, she’d thought she was pregnant with his child and had been thrilled about the sensation she’d made, but she’d never wanted Tanner. Not really. He was too . . . available, in every way. She could read him like a children’s book. And he could be lured into bed with barely a “Hello.” Sure, he was good-looking, and his family was fairly well-off, and Tanner had managed somehow to get through med school—who knew? All Amanda could think was that money must’ve changed hands somewhere along the way—and make a decent success of his father’s questionable business.
It was just a matter of competition. Amanda wanted to win, and somehow it felt like Delta was ahead of her. Like, all the fucking time. Even though Delta didn’t even know she was in the game.
Ellie, actually, was the one who wanted to battle with Amanda. She had that same fire in the belly to succeed . . . and crush everyone else beneath the heel of her boot. Amanda understood because she felt the exact same way.
Finally, alone in her car, Amanda pressed the button on her cell phone to hear Delta’s message.
“Hi, Amanda, it’s Delta.” Her voice shook some, but there was steel beneath it. Steel magnolia. Delta was the epitome of the term. “Tanner died earlier today, and I just ran into his father, who’s blaming me. I’ve talked to the police and told them what I know, but now I think I need a lawyer. A good lawyer. From what I hear, you’re one of the best. Is it possible for us to meet and talk about my case? If you’re interested, this is my cell number. Thank you. Please call . . .” A pause, and then she hung up.