The Perfect Woman - Nicole French Page 0,147

a fierceness somehow only enhanced by the last tear streak sliding down his left cheek. He took one final look at me, and I could have sworn in that moment, I was turned to stone.

“You better use that dirty money of yours to get a damn good lawyer, Mrs. Gardner,” he said. “Because after tonight, you’re going to need a fuckin’ army to escape a life in prison.”

Before I could respond, he slammed the door of the bedroom and did the same as he sprinted out of the cabin, clearly trying to put as much distance between us as possible. The second bang rocketed me into action. I sprang up from the bed, grabbing the first thing from the armoire I could find—a plush terry bathrobe put here for guests. I shoved it on, then ran out of the cottage in my bare feet, prepared to chase Matthew down until he would come back and talk some sense again.

But as soon as I reached the other side of the orchard, I came to a stop behind a big oak.

The front porch light of the big house had turned on. Skylar appeared, tiny and disheveled in a black nightgown, followed by Jane, wearing only Eric’s shirt.

“Matthew,” Skylar said, again and again, though the rest of their conversation, I couldn’t decipher beyond a few words.

“Stay.”

“Wait.”

“Listen.”

“Time.”

But Matthew was a force as he rocketed into the house, then back out again, carrying his bags and briefcase. He looked so far from the smart, stylish man I knew and loved. Only half his shirt was buttoned, and his hair was standing up in the back, like someone’s hands had been running through it all night. My hands.

I hiccupped back a sob, but remained behind the tree.

The sound of tires on gravel drowned out their conversation before a taxi appeared. I watched as Matthew dropped reluctant kisses on both his friends’ cheeks, then ducked into the cab and left.

Skylar and Jane turned toward the cabin. I shied farther behind my tree. Jane shook her head, then slipped an arm around Skylar’s shoulder and guided her back to the house, where they both disappeared.

And then I returned to my bed, to lie there alone. Listening for the return of a car, but only hearing silence for hours until morning striped the walls with color and light. That was when my phone rang.

I answered, too weary not to. “Hello, Calvin.”

“Where have you been?” Calvin demanded.

“Sleeping. It’s quite early still.”

“The property manager called me. Said there were some vagrants in the Newton house, fucking freeloaders. Are you all right?”

I frowned. I could count the number of times my husband had inquired about my well-being on one hand. And all of them were related to when he wanted something.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“So, listen. The DA has been really quiet, so I’ve convinced the lawyers to get a speedy trial back on track,” Calvin said. “Maybe get it scheduled by the end of the year or early spring.”

“That’s good,” I replied numbly as I touched the indent on the pillow where Matthew’s head had been. “Get it over with.”

“I’m going to need you to do something,” Calvin said.

“What’s that?” I mumbled. At this point, I wasn’t sure I cared.

“I’m going to need you to offer an alibi for a few separate dates. Under oath.”

At that, I sat up. “You want me to be deposed?”

“I want them to put you on the stand, yeah,” Calvin said. “If it comes to that.”

“I-I don’t understand,” I replied. “I thought—I thought spousal privilege was supposed to keep me out of this trial.”

“Only if I assert it,” Calvin sneered. “Lawyers think I should, but they don’t know jack shit. As of last night, my privilege was waived. I told them you’re Nina de Vries. There’s no better alibi in New York, and you’re going to give it to me.”

Privilege. Waived.

Just like that, I saw the imaginary shackles around my wrists unlock. Perhaps I’d be trading them for newer ones. But it would be an imprisonment I determined. Not him.

“Of course,” I found myself saying, but then realized it would be suspicious if I acquiesced without any kind of fight. “Wait, Calvin. What do you mean, exactly, as an alibi?”

“You’re going to tell them what I do, just like you’ve always known. That we flip properties. That we buy and sell real estate at a profit. And there will be a few dates where, I don’t know, you can talk about some dinner we had at home.”

I

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