“You are thirty-six years old and still waiting for your mother to rescue you.”
David’s face twisted.
“And you married me anyway.”
“I thought you’d grow up.”
“You forged her signature.”
“You gave me the files!”
“Because you said we were calculating what she might give us!”
Jessica laughed.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes.”
His voice dropped.
“Yes, I finally do.”
The room went silent.
Then the phone rang.
Not mine.
Jessica’s.
She looked down.
A name flashed across the screen.
MARCUS H.
David saw it.
“So who’s Marcus?”
Jessica snatched the phone.
“None of your business.”
He smiled without humor.
“Apparently a lot isn’t.”
She pushed past him.
But Barbara blocked the hallway.
“Move.”
Barbara did not.
“You poured gravy over my sister-in-law’s head.”
Jessica blinked.
“What?”
Barbara’s voice was quiet.
“You stood behind her and poured it deliberately.”
“It slipped.”
“No.”
Barbara folded her arms.
“I watched you.”
That stunned all of us.
Jessica recovered.
“You’re insane.”
“I was looking directly at you because I thought it was strange you insisted on getting the gravy when Eleanor was closer.”
My pulse quickened.
Barbara continued.
“You looked at David.”
I turned toward him.
His expression was blank.
“You looked at David first,” Barbara said. “Then you tipped it.”
Jessica shook her head.
“Ridiculous.”
Barbara looked at me.
“And while Eleanor was upstairs, Jessica asked David whether he thought she had gone into the bedroom or bathroom.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
Barbara shook her head.
“I didn’t know.”
Then David looked toward the stairs.
And I understood.
My study.
The filing cabinet.
My purse had been upstairs earlier.
“What were you looking for?” I asked.
Jessica said nothing.
David whispered, “The blue folder.”
Every hair on my arms lifted.
“What blue folder?”
“The original deed.”
I almost stopped breathing.
Jessica shouted, “You idiot.”
David ignored her.
“She wanted the original deed.”
“Why?”
“She said if we had it, the title company questions would be easier to deal with.”
The gravy had not been a joke.
Not entirely.
It had been a distraction.
Humiliate me.
Send me upstairs.
Create confusion.
Search the office.
The realization was so calculated that for a moment I felt physically sick.
David whispered, “I didn’t know she was going to dump gravy on you.”
I looked at him.
“But you knew she wanted me away from the table.”
He couldn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
I picked up my phone.
“What are you doing?” Jessica asked.
“Calling the police.”
