Heather’s perfect chin jutted out defensively. “What difference does that make?”
“That’s how he knew where to find us,” Alison said, looking at me and Julie. “She told him where we were going to leave Viktor’s car.”
“I didn’t! I had nothing to do with it. Okay, I called him, but I was panicking. I didn’t tell him anything except that I’d shot Viktor.”
“Which he needed to know, right, because that was all a part of your plan.”
“I’ve already told you—there was no plan.” Heather stood up, clearly agitated.
It was Alison’s turn to laugh. “You’re not seriously going to try and tell us that you didn’t plan to kill Viktor, are you?”
“I didn’t. At least, not like that. I thought I could use the bruises to force his hand. Like, I’d tell his job that he was beating his wife unless he tore up the prenup. But that probably wouldn’t have worked—he would have made it look like I was lying.”
“You were lying,” Alison said with another bitter laugh.
Heather looked sulky. “I didn’t even think about killing him until you guys did. You’re the ones who said I should defend myself, and Julie gave me the gun, and Sarah said I wouldn’t be charged if it was self-defense.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if you hadn’t shot him in the back of the head, dummy,” I said, tossing back the rest of my wine and heading to the island to refill my glass. Julie beat me to it, but instead of pouring another glass, she gave me a dirty look and deliberately stuffed the cork back in the bottle.
“Why did you do it like that?” Alison said to Heather. “Why that night? Why in his car?”
“Because he found out about the baby! He was going to leave me.” Heather sank back down in the chair, looking exhausted.
“So it was true about the vasectomy?” Julie said.
Heather nodded. “He had one before Janice got sick. She couldn’t risk having any more kids, she almost lost Daniel.”
“And he didn’t think about reversing it after you got married?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t want kids. Or at least I didn’t think I did.”
“Vasectomies fail,” I said. “Why not try to claim it was his child?”
“He’s a doctor, dummy!” Heather snapped, glaring at me. “They have tests to prove those things. Besides, it didn’t matter, somehow he found out about the affair and then he found my pregnancy vitamins, and the camera you guys gave me. He said he was going to divorce me. He was leaving me that night.”
“It was his suitcase in the doorway,” I said, putting it together. “Not yours.”
“So you shot him,” Alison said in a flat voice.
“What else was I supposed to do?” Heather cried. “Let him leave me with nothing? Leave us with nothing?” She cradled her stomach for a moment as if the baby were still there and then she remembered, her hand falling along with her face, and she started to weep.
No one moved to comfort her. I thought of all the times we’d done that. Opening our arms and our homes and our hearts for poor, fragile, abused Heather. I looked at her face contorted with tears and couldn’t believe that I’d ever found her beautiful.
“You are a greedy, selfish bitch,” I said, spitting each word at her, and she flinched as if they were blows.
And then the doorbell rang. That ridiculous, overproduced, twinkly peal echoing through the house.
chapter forty-two
ALISON
For a moment, nobody moved, and then Julie whispered, “What if it’s the police?”
“We can say we came because of the miscarriage,” I said. “We’re just helping a friend.”
“It’s not the police, it’s Ray.” Heather was looking at one of her phones. “He sent a text.”
“Don’t answer,” Julie said, clearly panicked.
“That’s not going to work—he won’t go away.” Heather sounded resigned.
“Good, let’s get our money back.” Sarah started walking toward the front hall.
Julie grabbed her by the arm. “Are you crazy? He could hurt you!”
“We don’t want to provoke him,” I said. “The last thing we need is the police showing up.”
“Just wait here,” Heather said. “I’ll try to get rid of him.”
We held very still, listening to Heather open the front door. We heard her say that she was tired and she’d get in touch tomorrow, and then a male voice, demanding to know “where the hell” she’d been.
More muffled conversation, and then Heather’s voice rose and she cried, “You can’t just barge in here!”
“Quick, we’ve got to hide,” Julie hissed, and we grabbed our things and ducked in the laundry room, leaving the door ajar, just before Ray Fortini stepped into the kitchen with Heather at his heels.
“What the fuck are you acting so nervous about?” he demanded, looking around. “You two-timing me? Got someone hiding in here?”
“Of course not.”
“Yeah? Then what are all these from?” He flicked a finger against one of our wineglasses.
“My friends were over earlier,” she said, hurriedly grabbing the glasses and taking them to the sink. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll have some of your chichi wine,” he said, tilting the bottle back to read the label. “What is this? Like, a fifty-dollar bottle?”
“I don’t know,” she said, over the sound of glasses clattering in the sink. “Viktor bought the wine.”
“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, and for a moment I thought he was angry that she’d mentioned her husband, but as I edged my face closer to the door I spotted, too late, what we’d left behind on the island.
“Where did you get that phone?” Ray demanded.
“Where do you think I got it?”
Silence for a long moment. I pressed my face even closer to the door, trying to see if Heather was secretly communicating with Fortini, but they were just standing there, staring at each other.
“So it’s true,” Heather said, when it became clear that Fortini wouldn’t answer. “I can’t believe you’ve been blackmailing me. How could you?”
“That’s my insurance,” he said. “You think you’re going to leave me? I told you—it’s over when I say it’s over.”
“I don’t understand—how did you know where to find us that night? I didn’t tell you what we were going to do with Viktor’s body. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I called you.”
“I tracked you. I’ve been tracking you for months on that phone I gave you and on the one your dead husband gave you, too.” He laughed.
“You are such a loser,” Heather spat. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
He just laughed again. “What you saw in me? What did I see in you? Just look at you—you’re a mess! You don’t even have your sweater on right. Is that ’cause you were out fucking someone else tonight?” He sniffed the air. “Is it a doctor? I can smell him on you.”
“You can keep my money, but you’ve got to give theirs back,” Heather said, her voice trembling as she started speaking, but steadying as she went on.
He kept laughing, too brazen and too stupid to take her seriously. “I’m not giving back anything.”
“You have to—they know all about us, about you. They’ll go to the police.”
“They’re not going to talk to anybody,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve got copies of the photos and I’ll show them to the cops.”
I watched through the crack in the door as Heather shook her head. “No you won’t,” she said, and gave him a tight little smile. “They’ve been erased. All your files have been erased.”
Fortini’s easy grin vanished. He struggled to speak, looking and sounding like someone who’d been hit across the head by a two-by-four. “What the hell does that mean? Did you fuck with my computer?” He moved toward her and Heather backed away, around the island.
He followed, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her up against the counter. “Answer me, bitch!” He slapped her hard across the face.
The smack was loud, echoing off all the marble and glass. I slammed open the door, reacting on impulse, forgetting my fear, forgetting what Heather had done, forgetting everything except the child I’d been, hiding in that closet as my father had grabbed my mother just like that, had her hit her just like that.