absolutely no thought to his existing family?”
“Whoa. That was really a low blow.”
“I’m just saying …”
“And I’m just asking …”
“I know what you’re asking. You don’t have to say it again.”
“And?”
“I’ll phone him every day.”
“Not good enough.”
“I don’t understand why not.”
“And I don’t understand the problem,” Jennifer said, trying not to sound as exasperated as she felt. Why did everything always have to be such a big deal? Why couldn’t at least one thing in her life be easy?
“It’s just hard for me,” Cameron said after a lengthy pause during which Jennifer wondered if she’d hung up.
“What is?”
“Seeing him like this.”
“What—you think I like it?”
“I think you’re just better at dealing with it,” Cameron said, paying her the first compliment Jennifer could ever remember getting from her sister. “I guess I’m just more sensitive than you are,” she added, immediately taking it back.
“Okay, listen. We’re going around in circles,” Jennifer said. “The fact is that I’m going away for three days and our father will be alone. It’s hot; he refuses to use the air conditioner; he may or may not remember to eat. Somebody has to check in on him. In person.”
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Fine,” Jennifer conceded, deciding it was the best she could hope for.
Fine, she thought now, banning further thoughts of her sister from her mind with a shake of her head.
“Careful with that,” James warned, brushing several strands of Jennifer’s hair away from his face with a dramatic flick of his hand. “That hair’s a lethal weapon.”
“Sorry.”
“And speaking of lethal,” James said, lowering his voice to achieve proper dramatic effect, “can you turn the radio up a bit?”
“More details with regard to the shocking murders in the Berkshires last week,” a male voice was announcing.
“Those poor people,” Melissa said. “Can you imagine getting to be almost ninety, only to be murdered?”
“Police are refusing to confirm that one of the weapons used to slay Marie and William Carteris was the same weapon usedto kill another elderly couple, Arlene and Frank Wall, in their cottage in Plainfield the previous week. They also insist there is nothing to connect these murders to that of Brian Grierson, a hiker whose dismembered torso was discovered in a shallow grave several miles from the Walls’ cottage a few days later,” the announcer continued.
“Hello? Is anybody hearing this?” James asked. “Mountains, murders, dismemberment. What are we doing here, people?”
“This is the Adirondacks, not the Berkshires,” Val reminded him with a chuckle.
“Same difference.”
“Different states.”
“
Neighboring
states,” James pointed out. “Look. The murders all took place in isolated spots in the middle of nowhere, that’s all I’m saying.”
“The Lodge at Shadow Creek is hardly the middle of nowhere,” Jennifer said, irritation clinging to each word. What am I doing with these people? she wondered again. Why did I agree to spend almost five hours in a car with Evan’s ex-wife and her crazy friends, having to listen to talk about murder and dismemberment? Why didn’t I just say no?
But even as she was asking herself these questions, she’d already conceded the answer.
She was here for the same reason Valerie was.
Different women, same rationale.
The rationale even had a name.
It was Evan.
“If he cheated on his wife,” she heard her father say, “he’ll cheat on you.”
With his soon-to-be former wife?
Was Valerie still harboring hopes of getting back together with Evan?
Was Evan encouraging those hopes?
And if so, why?
“For God’s sake, Brianne,” Val said, interrupting Jennifer’s thoughts. “Who are you texting now?”
“Nobody.” Brianne made an exaggerated show of returning her BlackBerry to her purse. “I’m going to sleep,” she announced to the
“Whoa. That was really a low blow.”
“I’m just saying …”
“And I’m just asking …”
“I know what you’re asking. You don’t have to say it again.”
“And?”
“I’ll phone him every day.”
“Not good enough.”
“I don’t understand why not.”
“And I don’t understand the problem,” Jennifer said, trying not to sound as exasperated as she felt. Why did everything always have to be such a big deal? Why couldn’t at least one thing in her life be easy?
“It’s just hard for me,” Cameron said after a lengthy pause during which Jennifer wondered if she’d hung up.
“What is?”
“Seeing him like this.”
“What—you think I like it?”
“I think you’re just better at dealing with it,” Cameron said, paying her the first compliment Jennifer could ever remember getting from her sister. “I guess I’m just more sensitive than you are,” she added, immediately taking it back.
“Okay, listen. We’re going around in circles,” Jennifer said. “The fact is that I’m going away for three days and our father will be alone. It’s hot; he refuses to use the air conditioner; he may or may not remember to eat. Somebody has to check in on him. In person.”
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Fine,” Jennifer conceded, deciding it was the best she could hope for.
Fine, she thought now, banning further thoughts of her sister from her mind with a shake of her head.
“Careful with that,” James warned, brushing several strands of Jennifer’s hair away from his face with a dramatic flick of his hand. “That hair’s a lethal weapon.”
“Sorry.”
“And speaking of lethal,” James said, lowering his voice to achieve proper dramatic effect, “can you turn the radio up a bit?”
“More details with regard to the shocking murders in the Berkshires last week,” a male voice was announcing.
“Those poor people,” Melissa said. “Can you imagine getting to be almost ninety, only to be murdered?”
“Police are refusing to confirm that one of the weapons used to slay Marie and William Carteris was the same weapon usedto kill another elderly couple, Arlene and Frank Wall, in their cottage in Plainfield the previous week. They also insist there is nothing to connect these murders to that of Brian Grierson, a hiker whose dismembered torso was discovered in a shallow grave several miles from the Walls’ cottage a few days later,” the announcer continued.
“Hello? Is anybody hearing this?” James asked. “Mountains, murders, dismemberment. What are we doing here, people?”
“This is the Adirondacks, not the Berkshires,” Val reminded him with a chuckle.
“Same difference.”
“Different states.”
“
Neighboring
states,” James pointed out. “Look. The murders all took place in isolated spots in the middle of nowhere, that’s all I’m saying.”
“The Lodge at Shadow Creek is hardly the middle of nowhere,” Jennifer said, irritation clinging to each word. What am I doing with these people? she wondered again. Why did I agree to spend almost five hours in a car with Evan’s ex-wife and her crazy friends, having to listen to talk about murder and dismemberment? Why didn’t I just say no?
But even as she was asking herself these questions, she’d already conceded the answer.
She was here for the same reason Valerie was.
Different women, same rationale.
The rationale even had a name.
It was Evan.
“If he cheated on his wife,” she heard her father say, “he’ll cheat on you.”
With his soon-to-be former wife?
Was Valerie still harboring hopes of getting back together with Evan?
Was Evan encouraging those hopes?
And if so, why?
“For God’s sake, Brianne,” Val said, interrupting Jennifer’s thoughts. “Who are you texting now?”
“Nobody.” Brianne made an exaggerated show of returning her BlackBerry to her purse. “I’m going to sleep,” she announced to the
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