Page 55 of The Perfect Hosts
555–0110:I can explain. Just give me a chance.
Johanna:Nothing you say will change a damn thing.
555–0110:Have you talked to her?
Johanna:Stop! I’m not doing this anymore. Leave me alone.
555–0110:Johanna, come on. You know me.
555–0110:Please, 5 minutes, that’s all I need.
555–0110:So you’re going to ignore me?
555–0110:Fuck this and fuck you, Johanna.
Johanna:No, fuck you. I’m finished. No more secrets.
555–0110:I don’t want you anywhere near me or my wife. Do you understand? You call her, come see her, go anywhere near her, you’ll regret it.
That’s where the conversation ends. He double-checks it against the calls to Johanna’s number the day of the fire, and there it is. The call that came into Johanna’s phone twenty minutes before the explosion. The one that lasted about twenty seconds.
Well, thinks Jamie, this is interesting. At first glance, the texts read like a possible romance gone wrong. Was Johannainvolved with a married man? Had she threatened to go to the wife, and the man wanted to make sure that didn’t happen? Now he has to find out who it is. He enters the number into a reverse-phone-number site, and the answer is immediate. The number is registered to Lone Tree Ranch LLC. Jamie flips through his notes. None of the three ranch hands at Lone Tree are married. It looks like Dalton was right. Wes Drake has officially become a suspect in the death of Johanna Monaghan.
Chapter 26
Lucy
“Bitch,” Lucy says, watching the video on her phone. At the harsh tone, Sonnet stamps her feet and shakes her mane. “Not you,” Lucy says, rubbing her flank. “You’re the best girl.” She’s in the stables, checking on the newest foal. Madeline is at the far end of the stable talking with Trent. Lucy rewinds the video and watches again as Mellie, carrying what looks like an orange plastic pill bottle, steps from the master bedroom and then reappears in Lucy’s room. Watches as Mellie looks around, goes to the closet and pulls Lucy’s Carhartt jacket from a hanger, then moves to her bed, and finally picks up a pair of Lucy’s jeans. She watches as Mellie slides the pill bottle into an inner pocket, then returns the coat to the closet.
“Bitch,” Lucy says again. Mellie is setting her up. Making her out to be a thief so she can get Madeline to throw her out of the house or, worse, get her arrested.
Lucy made a mistake leaving the ranch that morning. She went into Jackson to run a few personal errands and to buy paint and other supplies for the baby’s room. While she was gone, Mellie was busy.
She has to hurry. Lucy retrieves her purchases from the back seat of the truck, looping the plastic bags filled with painting and cleaning supplies around her wrist, and lifting a gallon ofprimer to cover the blood-stained walls in the nursery. Pip follows, and Lucy shoos her away. When she enters the house it’s quiet, and there is no sign of Madeline or Mellie. Lucy goes directly up the steps and stops outside the nursery. No one has removed theXof crime-scene tape across the doorway yet, though the space has been released to Wes and Madeline.
Lucy sets down the gallon of paint and rips down the yellow plastic and wads it up in her fist. She opens the nursery door and is met with a bloody mess, stark against the pristine white room. A constellation of dried blood streaks the freaky white horse that looks as if it’s leaping through the wall. Drips of dry, flaky blood dot the white oak floor, and a stiff dark stain mars the center of the large white area rug in front of the crib, marking the spot where Dalton Monaghan died and smells of gasoline.
Lucy goes into the guest room, goes straight for the right side of the bed. She slides her hand between the mattress and box spring to make sure Mellie hasn’t left anything behind. There’s nothing there. She rushes back down the steps and into the laundry room and finds her jeans buried beneath a pile of damp towels. She slides her fingers into a back pocket, and there she finds the bottle filled with pills and money, just as she knew she would. So this is how Mellie wants to play it, Lucy thinks. She must admit she’s a little impressed. She checks the security camera on her app and finds Madeline and Trent in the stables. Good. There is no sign of Mellie.
Now, how to use this to her advantage?
Taking the pill bottle with her, Lucy steps outside. Trent’s truck is parked near the bunkhouse. There’s a narrow chance that she’ll be able to get to his vehicle without being seen on the outdoor surveillance camera. She goes back inside and into the living room, trying to decide what to do. Then she sees it lying in a puddle on the floor—Trent’s flannel shirt, the one he wore the night before. She picks up the shirt and slides the pill bottle in the front pocket,then drops it to the floor between the leather ottoman and the sofa. Out of sight, for now.
The house phone rings, but Lucy doesn’t answer; instead, she unplugs the cord from the wall. On the way back up the steps, she checks her text messages and finds one from Wes.
I’ve been trying to call the house phone but there’s no answer. Is Madeline around? Did her phone show up yet?
Lucy taps out her response.
No phone yet. She’s out in the stables with Trent checking on the foal. She’s a beauty. How’s your brother doing? Are you coming home today?
Wes responds immediately.
Yes, just stopping for gas. I should be home in about 3 hours. He’s doing well. Should be able to come home in the next few days. Will you tell Madeline I’m on my way?
She replies,Sure thing. Drive safe.
But she has no intention of telling Madeline anything and isn’t ready to hand over the new phone that was delivered the day before. It’s tucked away in her backpack along with her gun. She really doesn’t want to have to use the gun but will if she must. A flutter of nerves fills her stomach. Things are in motion now, but it isn’t too late to put a stop to it. The thing is, Lucy doesn’t want to stop. She’s been planning and preparing for weeks. Not only will she get her inheritance but she’ll be able to dole out some well-deserved karma. Now she just needs to wait until Wes gets home, and that’s when all hell will break loose.