Page 60 of The Night We Became Strangers
Alicia
I ’d always had a talent for mimicking other people’s handwriting, but I never thought my skill would come in so handy.
Of course Beatriz had been surprised to see me. I never visited her. I just sent the money through the mail. In fact, I hadn’t been in her house in years.
“That’s odd,” she said. “Your son came only a couple of weeks ago to see me, and now you. By the way, he’s turned into a very attractive man, just like his father.”
Her defiant smile made me want to slap her, but I resisted the urge and walked into her parlor. Overly decorated, of course, with my money.
“I should be grateful that the legendary Alicia de Montero is honoring my humble home with her presence. Would you like something to drink? I have the most expensive wines,” she said, mockingly.
“No. I just want to talk to you.”
“As you wish.” She sat down and lit a cigarette.
“I wanted to come in person to tell you that your lucrative business is over.”
Her hideous smile faded. “Are you sure? I can still go to the police and tell them what you did to Marisa. I have the murder weapon— your gun—carefully stored.”
It took all my willpower not to attack her.
“Now that you mention that night. What really happened? I know now that Marisa wasn’t Agustín’s lover.”
She frowned, confused. “Of course she was.”
“No.” I stood up and pointed my finger at her. “ You were.”
She tried to laugh it off, but her unease was evident. She loosened the scarf around her neck, which only reminded me of the dove scarf and how mistaken I’d been about Marisa.
“What else have you lied about?” I asked her. “At this point, I doubt Marisa was even dead when I left the office.”
She avoided my gaze, her earlier confidence crumbling.
“Why don’t you tell me what really happened, Beatriz? I deserve it after supporting you and your lifestyle all these years.”
She stood up, exhaling a blue cloud of smoke.
“You want to know? Fine! I’ll tell you.” She paced the living room.
“I could never stand your arrogance, your airs, your smug superiority. Yes, Agustín was my lover. A woman like you can never satisfy a man like him.” She scoffed.
“And that stupid friend of yours was too meek to do anything with him, even though he would’ve left everything for her.
She couldn’t appreciate what she had: She practically owned a radio station, she was a respected actress, she had a husband who worshiped her, a lovely daughter.
On top of all, she had Agustín’s adoration, and yet, she was miserable.
Well, I have no tolerance for people like her.
Agustín broke things off with me that morning.
He couldn’t handle the guilt of cheating on you any longer, and after Marisa’s brother died, he’d gotten close to her again.
I knew how he felt. It was so obvious. I couldn’t believe you didn’t see it back then.
Well, I wasn’t going to just take it. I wasn’t going to lose him for her . ”
“ Dios mío , you shot her. Didn’t you?”
She didn’t deny it. She slowly circled the room. “You idiot. You thought she was dead.” She chuckled. “But she was just protecting herself from the shattering glass.”
I couldn’t believe her shamelessness. “And you thought you’d get away with this.”
She lifted her chin. “You’ll never be able to prove it.”
“Probably not, but I’ll do something better than that.” I removed Agustín’s old revolver from my purse and pointed it at the side of her head.
“Wait, Alicia, what are you going to do?”
“What a toxic, poisonous person like you deserves. All this time, you fueled my resentment, my anger toward Marisa and her family, not to mention the guilt of what I thought I’d done to her.
But it was you. All along. You took my husband from me, not Marisa.
You smeared her reputation and on top of all, you murdered her. ”
“You won’t be able to live with yourself. You’re not a murderer.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve already lived with myself. And it was much worse, because I thought I killed someone I loved.”
She extended her arms. “Please, don’t do it. Alicia, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Please! ”
But I was done talking to her.
I pulled back the revolver’s hammer and shot.