Read Online THE DEEP END by Julie Mulhern - Free Book Online Page B

infidelities than I did was completely reasonable. After all, I’d convinced our little corner of the world—and myself—I didn’t give a damn what my husband did.
    I reached past my wine glass, closed my fingers around a sweating water goblet and lifted it to my lips for a long, slow drink. “She knew.” I traded the water for wine. Sipped. “They...” Words failed me.
    “You don’t mean?” Daisy’s pretty face was a study in shock. Her jaw hung slack, her eyes were wide and beneath her rouge, her cheeks paled.
    I nodded.
    “Together?” Jinx squeaked.
    “You promised.” My gaze traveled from stunned expression to stunned expression. “Not a word. Not a whisper.” Had I made a mistake? Mother would tell me there’s no such thing as a secret among four. I hoped she was wrong.
    “How did you find out?” Libba asked.
    “Never mind that.” I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. There was no way I was telling them about Mistress K or Roger on the Berkley horse. “Did you see Prudence or Kitty the night Madeline died?”
    My friends froze, one with a glass of wine halfway to her lips, another in the process of smoothing her hair and the third lining up her silverware to her own exacting specifications.
    Daisy thawed first. “I saw Kitty and John. The chef fixed that special lobster dinner and you know how Martin is about lobster. Kitty and John were there.” She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes. “I didn’t see Prudence.”
    “What time did they leave?” I asked.
    “Let me think.” Daisy caught the tip of her small chin between her thumb and the knuckle of her first finger. “We arrived around seven. We sat with the Strattons. Did you know their oldest son has decided to go to law school?”
    Libba drummed her fingers on the table. “Back to the point, Daisy.”
    “Oh. Sorry. We had dinner with the Strattons. I swear George Stratton ate five of those little corn biscuits. If I were Marianne, I’d be worried about his health.”
    “Daisy!”
    “Sorry, Libba. I just have to think it through.”
    “Can you think it through without biscuits?”
    Daisy narrowed her eyes. “I’ll try.”
    “The biscuits are good,” said Jinx.
    I gave her a look cold enough to freeze a water hazard.
    Her hands fluttered before returning to the stem of her glass. “Well, they are.”
    Oh dear Lord. “I think we can all agree the biscuits are delicious. But Daisy was going to tell us about Kitty Ballew. Daisy?”
    “Well, we were there with the Strattons...”
    Next to me, Libba growled.
    Daisy sniffed and turned her pert nose away from Libba’s disapproval. “Kitty and John were having dinner with his parents. Laura Ballew looked like she was sucking lemons.”
    “She should have had a biscuit instead,” Jinx muttered.
    Libba and I ignored her. Daisy tittered.
    “And?” Libba demanded.
    “John and his father were doing their best to kill a bottle of scotch.”
    “What about Kitty?” I asked.
    “She looked so miserable I almost felt sorry for her.”
    There was a moment of silence as we considered just how miserable Kitty would have to look before one of us was moved to pity.
    “Seriously,” Daisy insisted.
    “Did anything happen?”
    “We had dinner. The lobster was a little tough.”
    “That’s it?” Libba demanded.
    “We danced. They had this fabulous little Latin jazz trio.”
    “Did the Ballews stay to dance?” I asked.
    Daisy grabbed her chin again.
    “John did but not with Kitty. He danced with his mother and then he danced with Audrey Miles. I remember because she had on a dress with a twirly skirt and every time he spun her, she flashed the dining room.”
    My fingers tightened on the edge of the table. “And then?”
    “We left.”
    “Were the Ballews still there?”
    Daisy closed her eyes. “John senior was at the table with a bottle. John junior was dancing with his mother. I don’t remember where Kitty was.” Her mouth formed a small circle. “You