“Yes, I’m strong,” I told Juan, the universe, my heart.
Or maybe, no, damn them! I’d keep Cliffside. Go back to the retreat plan. Change the furniture, put my stamp on the place. Make it my own.
It was my house. And nobody could take it from me.
As these thoughts tumbled around in my head, the rain eased up a bit, and an unexpected slant of golden afternoon sunshine peeped through a purple cloud, its light a laser. A rainbow emerged. An arc of hope.
Cliffside is mine.
Suddenly, thunder rumbled, and, just a second later, forked lightning gashed white beneath the rainbow, slamming its electrical roots somewhere into the ocean. A bolt so fast I hardly caught it, but it wasn’t my imagination. I pulled into my driveway, my renewed courage eclipsed by my thudding, fearful pulse. Turn back?
No, I hadn’t come this far to cop out now.
I can do this. I am strong.
I halted the car, out of sight from the house, turning it around first so I could make a quick escape if need be. I wanted to check the lay of the land first. Wearing gray, as I was, it made me blend in with the sleety rain. I was dressed in a pale gray Burberry mac, too, courtesy of Pippa. I took the gun from the glove compartment and slipped it into the pocket of my raincoat. Beanie was jumping around in the back, excited to be home.
“No, Beanie, you’re staying here. At least for now.” I cracked the windows just enough to give him some fresh air.
Beanie had shown such allegiance to me, and my allergy to dander seemed to have melted away in the past week, without any antihistamines. Strange that. A little golden Labrador puppy my mother had bought me as a child popped into my archive of memories. I had forgotten about that sweet boy. He was returned two days later. My father, who had been away on a work trip, arrived home in a blaze of fury, instantly ignited the second he laid eyes on me with the soft blond puppy in my arms. I had not sneezed the whole time the dog had been with us. I did not have a runny nose, yet the puppy was unceremoniously snatched away from me and his new forever home and given back to the breeders. The reason? My supposed allergy.
I trod lightly as I pattered up to the house and through the open gate. Why wasn’t it shut? It was unnervingly quiet. Neither Dan’s car nor my Land Rover were parked in the driveway. The garage door, too, was open, a strange car I didn’t recognize parked inside. Mrs. Reed had bought a red Mini Cooper? Racy was not her God-fearing style. It was a Friday, though. Her day to clean. I hadn’t seen her for ages. The triplets had told her to leave, hadn’t they? I didn’t understand why Pippa hadn’t arrived yet, assuming coming here had been her plan.
Just as I was contemplating my next move, I caught sight of a light going on in the house.
My right hand groped in the pocket of my raincoat, the pistol warmer now, the sweat of my shaky, naïve hand unfamiliar to its touch.
I was just about to march away, back to the safety of my car, when the front door suddenly swung open.
I blinked, fear shooting through, white-hot. Instant remorse at coming to Cliffside, all alone. For not making that call to 911.
“Well, hello! How fabulous to see you!” a strange voice called out.
Focusing my eyes through the rain, I saw Kate, but she’d dyed her hair blond. But no, it wasn’t Kate, but an older Kate, a blond Kate who flung her head back when she laughed.
Standing at the door was the triplets’ mother. Juan’s ex-wife. Lee. It had to be. A woman I’d presumed murdered.
But alive. Very much alive. I opened my eyes wider. Drops of rain plopped down my cheek. I took a long hard stare. There was no mistaking it.
It was Lee.
Fifty-Two
I stood there, frozen to the spot. The space between us diminished to a thin line as Lee skipped closer. Long legs, long neck, an older Jen in motion. All this time, I’d had a cancer victim in my mind, a woman whose hair was falling out, strand by strand, a brave wisp of a dying mother, a soldier’s widow, pale and sad. Then she had become a corpse, buried in a cemetery outside Zurich. Then a murder victim, killed