the balcony. Then she went running for the staircase on the opposite side.
“It’s the waterslide!” Gertie yelled as she threw a leg over the stair railing as I had done.
Good. God.
I watched in horror as Gertie, slicked up from all the shampoo, went flying down the railing at double the sped I’d managed, then flew off the end and crashed into a plant, splitting the vase in two. Ida Belle and the guard ran down to help her up while Gertie kept trying to wave them away. The guard looked at the broken vase, and I thought for a moment that he was going to cry. Ida Belle grabbed his shoulders and shook him and I could see her giving him a stern talking-to, but since her back was to me, I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
Finally the guard nodded and hurried over to the desk where I saw him access a computer. I could hear sirens in the distance and silently urged them to hurry.
“You got it?” Ida Belle yelled.
“Yes,” he said. “Just go!”
Ida Belle grabbed Gertie’s shirt and the robe and they hurried out. Then we all took off at a dead run until we rounded the corner and jumped into the SUV. Ida Belle fired it right up and pulled away without turning on her headlights. When we were several blocks away, she looked back at Gertie.
“Do you know how close you were to being arrested?” she asked. “They would have put you on a twenty-four-hour hold.”
Gertie shrugged. “So?”
“So I’m not so sure they would have released you after,” Ida Belle said.
“Fortune needed a distraction. The cops were coming. I did what I had to do. And I didn’t even blow anything up this time.”
“That’s because you blew up everything in your purse earlier today,” Ida Belle said.
“Technicalities,” Gertie said.
“What did you say to the guard?” I asked Ida Belle.
“I told him that we were both in big trouble when the cops showed up because he’d let Gertie in to begin with and hadn’t called for help right away. I said he could probably glue the vase back together and gave him the name of the glue. Then I suggested he delete the last hour or so of security footage and if anyone asked, claim no knowledge of a problem and deny that he ever let the crazy woman in the building.”
“See,” Gertie said. “No evidence of our existence there. Things went perfectly.”
“You’re a wet, slimy mess, dripping in my SUV,” Ida Belle said. “That cover is only water-resistant, not waterproof.”
“It’s shampoo,” Gertie said. “I’m just giving it a wash.”
She started shifting her butt back and forth across the seat and for a minute, I wondered if Ida Belle was going to pull over and take action.
Ida Belle looked over at me. “Please tell me you got something so that I don’t have to shoot her.”
“I did,” I said. “He had a file for Gil but no documents yet, only notes. I took pics so I could get out quickly. Let me pull them up.”
I accessed the images and started scanning the notes, reading the relevant parts out loud. The bottom line was that Gwyn had been telling the truth—Gil had been filing for divorce. And as part of that filing, he wanted to change his will, yet again, this time leaving everything to Liam, which brought into question his plans for a future with Gwyn but that wasn’t exactly surprising. Per the prenuptial agreement, Tiffany would leave the marriage with what she brought into it and earned during the marriage. So basically, nothing.
“Hello motive,” Gertie said when I finished.
“Is it?” I asked. “If Tiffany was already planning to leave Gil, she wasn’t going to get anything on the way out. She had to know the contents of the prenuptial.”
“True,” Ida Belle said. “But what if she started making plans to leave, then realized her very limited skill set wouldn’t pay for much of a living? Tiffany appears to be driven by an overwhelming need for security. If she could be rid of Gil but still have the security of the money, that would be the ultimate solution.”
I nodded. “I could see that. She starts looking at apartments and comparing that to what she can make as unskilled labor and realizes that her days of comfort are over. She’ll be struggling just to keep a roof overhead and food on the table.”
“I wonder if Tiffany knew he was filing,” Gertie said.