say I’m your friend.”
“Who’s gonna believe that? It’s too risky.”
“I don’t understand. You said her death was a suicide. If that’s true, what is there to worry about?”
“There’s been no ruling yet. The police are investigating. You know how cops are. They rush to judgment. It’s always the husband, even in cases where there’s not a lot of money at stake. Here, there’s a fortune. If there was even the slightest hint that I had a motive—”
“A motive beyond the money? Like, another woman? Me?”
“Exactly. That’s the classic scenario, right? If anyone found out about us, frankly, I’d be in deep shit.”
“But if she really killed herself, won’t the evidence show that?”
“I’m no expert. But my sense is, this is one of those murky situations. They can make it look bad for me.”
“How long will the investigation take?”
“It’s not just the investigation. There’s the estate.”
“Estate?”
“I’m trying to get a handle on it. I have a call in to her lawyer. I don’t know if there was a will. I don’t know what the story is. That could take a long time to resolve, and until it’s settled, I need to lead an exemplary life.”
“So, we have to sneak around?”
“Not sneak around. We can’t see each other.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. A year, maybe more, maybe less.”
“A year? No. Connor—no.”
“Does it matter? I’m committed to you, Tabby. I found you again after so long. I’m finally sure of what I want in my life, and it’s you. I know that in my heart. You need to know it, too. We can wait another year. What’s one more year if we know we want to be together forever?”
“Connor, this won’t be a normal year. I’ve been trying to get in touch for days. There’s something you need to know, something important.”
“What is it?”
I told him.
22
MRS. TABITHA FORD
October
It was dark and rainy as the plane came in for landing. I’d only flown a few times in my life, and never into New York City. Awestruck by its beauty, I craned my neck to see the skyline from my sumptuous seat in first class. The lights of the skyscrapers disappeared into the clouds, giving off a soft glow like a watercolor painting. Connor had an apartment in one of those towers. It wasn’t officially his yet, but it would be, along with Nina’s entire fortune, once the will was settled. Which meant that it would also be mine, since Connor and I were now married.
The baby had changed everything. Once Connor heard about it, he couldn’t wait for us to be together. A month ago, the police had ruled Nina’s death a suicide, and we thought we were out of the woods. He rushed up to New Hampshire to see me. Being together for the first time in months, knowing the baby was coming, we got carried away, and on the spur of the moment, we went down to Town Hall. It was a reckless thing to do given the crazy circumstances. But, when I thought about how close I’d come to never seeing Connor again, to missing out on true love, on the family I’d always dreamed of, well, the narrowness of my escape chilled me. My new life was a dream. I was too overwhelmed with joy to think about the consequences.
Until now.
The plane touched down. I leaned out into the aisle and called Connor’s name, but he didn’t hear me. He was seated one row behind, in his own pod, surrounded by a privacy screen. The first-class seats were a marvel of modern technology. They turned into beds at the touch of a button and were fitted out with an elaborate entertainment system. But they were lonely. Connor had spent most of the flight catching up on paperwork. He stayed glued to his seat, and the only time I saw him was during the meal service. I shouldn’t complain; that meal had been epic. Each seat pod came with a guest chair and table that the flight attendant called up from the floor as if by magic, and set with a white tablecloth, silver, and crystal glasses. We’d enjoyed a five-course dinner, starting with Dom Perignon and caviar, then filet mignon, flourless chocolate cake with berries, and a cheese and fruit course, complete with wine pairings (which I’d skipped, except for one sip of the champagne, because of the baby). All this on an airplane, in flight from Rome to New York, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. I was Mrs. Tabitha