Page 17 of The Last Housewife

“Stop!” I yelled, lunging.

Shay, she whispered.What did you know, and when did you know it?

The ground swallowed her whole.

I woke the next morning to a spot of blood on my pillow from where I’d bitten deep into my tongue.

***

I let Jamie drive this time. He walked out of the motel in another all-black outfit, holding an orange soda and a root beer, the kind I’d liked when I was a kid. When I slid out of the driver’s seat, he handed me the root beer and got in without a word. He’d been cautious with me since yesterday, when he’d asked why Laurel might do that to my picture, and I’d snappedI don’t know.

We were on two missions today: first, talk to Laurel’s former employer, the head of a catering company called Hudson Delights, which was up in Beacon, an hour away. Jamie had set up the interview last night, presumably after I’d fled back to my hotel room. Second, we were going to track down the college student who’d discovered her body. I’d called Laurel’s mom three times in the last twenty-four hours with no luck; the last time, the call went straight to voicemail. I remembered Laurel telling me her mom was moody and unpredictable. She suffered from depression, Laurel had said, and it had gotten a whole lot worse after Laurel’s father passed away when she was fifteen. Sometimes Laurel didn’t hear from her mom for weeks at a time. I wondered at my chances of getting through to her.

It would be a long ride up to Beacon, and by the set of Jamie’s mouth, I could tell he was determined not to provoke me. I sighed. I’d been nothing but prickly and withholding since we’d reunited. He probably regretted finding me after all.

My phone rang; I pulled it out to find Cal calling yet again. I knew I needed to talk to him—texts wouldn’t suffice—but the truth was, I was dreading it. Cal was due back from his work trip soon, and he’d ask when I was coming home. I clicked it silent and caught Jamie watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“Cal works at a hedge fund.” I offered it like an olive branch. “He loves numbers. And making money, obviously.”

Jamie cracked a grin. “You always loved numbers, too.”

“I liked words more.”

“You were the smartest person in school,” he said. “You could do both.”

If that was true, Jamie was the only person who’d noticed.

“Even if they did take valedictorian away from you for some mysterious reason…” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop being such a reporter,” I said. “Just thank me for handing you the title.”

He shrugged. “You can have it back. I’d much rather know the scandal.”

I looked out the window, and after a second, he changed tack. “So, how’d you meet this money-hungry hedge funder from Dallas?”

I rolled my eyes. “Covering an event forThe Slice. The Cowboys were hosting a fundraiser for breast cancer research. I thought it might be a nice angle, you know, football players wearing pink and doing something nice for women. Cal was one of the attendees. He made the biggest donation out of anyone.” I didn’t mention that philanthropy was a competitive sport in Highland Park, a way for old Dallas families to flaunt their wealth. And Cal liked winning.

“Ah. So you got swept off your feet by a big shot. Makes sense.”

“Why?”

“Remember how obsessed you were with Anderson Thomas in high school? That’s your type. The prom king.”

My mouth went dry. I quickly changed the subject. “Cal and I got married a year ago. It was a small wedding.”

He shot me a look, mouth quirking. “I bet your mom was thrilled you married a rich guy.”

I huffed a laugh. “Marrying Cal’s about the only thing I’ve ever done right.”

“Yeah, well, she was always desperate for you to not end up like her.”

My smile faded. “I barely talk to her these days.”

“Yeah, I know.” He glanced at me in the rearview. “Trust me, she told me.”

***

Hudson Delights was a small, old-timey building on a picturesque postcard street in downtown Beacon. How in the world Laurel had found this place, and what brought her here, miles outside the town she lived in, to a job outside her interests, I could not guess.