Chapter 10 - Everybody Was Betraying Everybody
I sent Ethan the photograph of Emily without a word.
His reply came nine seconds later.
WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?
I typed:
YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO CALL ME.
He called in less than one.
"Sarah—"
"Was Emily supposed to meet you after I died?"
He inhaled sharply.
"Don't say that."
"Three days after our honeymoon. Two one-way tickets to Lisbon. You and Emily. Explain."
"I can."
"Then do it."
"Not on the phone."
I laughed once.
"You really love that sentence."
"Diane monitors things."
"My mother didn't buy your escape ticket with Emily."
Silence.
"Did she?"
"No."
There it was.
A fracture.
"You were going to steal from her too."
"I was going to get away from her."
"With the money."
"Yes."
"After what happened to me?"
His breathing changed.
"Nothing was supposed to happen to you."
I looked at Martin.
He wrote on a legal pad.
KEEP HIM TALKING.
"Then why wait until after the honeymoon to run?"
"Because the transfer couldn't happen before."
"What transfer?"
"Sarah, I need protection."
"From who?"
"Diane."
"Join the club."
He spoke faster.
"I have her laptop. Not the one she uses at home. The private one. It has messages, transaction spreadsheets, scans of documents, everything."
Martin underlined something on his pad.
WHERE?
"Where is it?" I asked.
"Safe."
"Bring it to the police."
"No."
"Then bring it to Martin."
"No lawyers. No police. You and me."
I almost ended the call.
Then he said, "The honeymoon cottage."
My fingers stopped over the screen.
Before Costa Rica, Ethan had booked two nights at a secluded rental cottage near the airport.
A romantic pause between wedding and flight.
I'd thought it was sweet.
Now every private place he'd chosen felt like a room with no witnesses.
"Why there?"
"Because Diane doesn't know I still have access."
"When?"
"Tonight. Nine."
I looked at Martin.
He shook his head.
Lena mouthed, Absolutely not.
"Fine," I said.
Ethan exhaled.
"Come alone."
"Of course."
I ended the call.
Lena stared at me.
"No."
"I'm not going alone."
"You literally just told him—"
"I lied. I'm learning from professionals."
The cottage sat thirty miles outside the city near a reservoir.
Martin contacted the detective assigned to my earlier report and sent him the recorded admissions from the parking garage.
The detective couldn't promise an immediate operation based on what we had, but he gave clear advice: don't go inside.
I went inside.
Not because it was smart.
Because Ethan said he had the laptop.
And because I wore a small audio transmitter under my blouse while Lena waited in a parked car half a mile away with Martin on speaker.
If I said the phrase "I forgot the passports," she would call 911 and drive straight to the cottage.
Before stepping inside, I photographed the cottage exterior, the license plate area, and the open door.
Then I sent the images to Lena.
A porch camera hung above the frame, but its status light was dark.
I touched the casing.
Warm.
Recently disabled.
"Ethan," I called again.
My own voice came back from the empty living room.
He had chosen a place without witnesses and turned off the only electronic one.
The front door was unlocked.
I pushed it open with two fingers.
"Ethan?"
"Kitchen."
He sat at a pine table under a hanging light.
A black laptop rested in front of him.
No wine.
No candles.
No performance.
He looked worse than he had in the parking garage.
"Close the door."
"No."
He didn't argue.
I stayed standing.
"Emily."
He rubbed his wrist.
"I met her before you."
"Were you sleeping with her while you were sleeping with my mother and planning to marry me?"
"Yes."
The word came flat.
Something in me almost appreciated that.
Almost.
"And Lisbon?"
"I was going to disappear."
"With what?"
"Money Diane kept in accounts she thought I couldn't access."
"After she stole from me."
"Yes."
"So everybody gets paid except the bride."
His mouth twisted.
"I didn't plan to hurt you."
"Did you know about the medical paperwork?"
"Some of it."
His thumb touched his wrist.
"Did you know my mother expected me to be incapacitated?"
"She said you might need to be kept somewhere for a few days after the wedding because you'd become unstable when you learned certain things."
My stomach turned.
"Kept where?"
"The villa."
"Drugged?"
"I don't know."
His wrist again.
"You're lying."
He slammed his palm onto the table.
"I didn't know she meant kill you."
The words hung between us.
He realized what he'd admitted.
So did I.
"When did you realize?"
He looked at the laptop.
"Two weeks ago."
"And you still stood at the altar."
"I needed the files."
"You needed the money."
He looked up.
"Both."
At least that was honest.
I stepped toward the table.
"Open the laptop."
He turned it around.
The login screen showed my mother's initials.
DM.
"Password?"
"I have it."
He reached toward the keyboard.
Headlights washed across the front windows.
Ethan froze.
A car door slammed outside.
"Who's that?"
He stood so fast his chair fell backward.
"She's not supposed to be here yet."
My blood went cold.
"Yet?"
The front door opened.
My mother stepped inside carrying a black travel bag.
She looked at me.
Then at Ethan.
Her face did not change.
"You always make me clean up your mistakes."
I heard my phone vibrate once in my pocket.
Lena checking the signal.
I did not reach for it.
My mother noticed the movement anyway.
"Phone on the table."
"No."
Ethan looked at me, then at her.
"Diane, don't turn this into something else."
She placed one hand on the black travel bag.
"It became something else when you brought her here."
His face tightened.
"You told me you wanted the laptop destroyed."
"I wanted competence."
My heart kicked once hard against the transmitter taped beneath my blouse.
They were already confessing around the edges.
I only had to keep them talking.
May you like
She turned the deadbolt and locked the door.
