I’m so damned shocked, I can’t find the words to defend myself.
Sensing she has the advantage, my ex-fuck-buddy and partner swivels back toward me. “I’m sure you can get the charges reduced, honey, if you confess, butI’ll agree she wanted it rough.”
What the hell is she talking about?“I didn’t have sex in that bathroom. Not with you, not with her, and not with the fucking pope!” My rule is to never resort to violence, but in her case, I may make an exception.
“Baby, you can’t keep lying. Come clean, I’m begging you.” In this upside-down reality, the insane narcissist raises her hands and turns to my wife. “I’m sorry. This must come as a shock. Your goody-two-shoes husband is into erotic asphyxiation. The lack of oxygen to the brain adds to-”
“I know what it is.” Voice taut, Gwen steps back, her firearm pointed at Britt. “Is this the story you told the Feds?”
For a moment, the two women stare each other down, reminiscent of the O.K. Corral. I use the opportunity to grab my cell phone, open the camera, and hit record. The sneaky fraud feigns tears so well, I can understand where others might believe her.
In a frantic game of tennis, she volleys her comments into my court. “If I had known, I would never have left you alone with my roommate.”
Jesus H. Christ. She’s setting me up.“Brittany. Let’s back up a little. What was your girlfriend doing at the watering hole Monday night? We were supposed to be meeting a dangerous informant.”
No doubt needing time to make up a story, she breaks into a coughing fit and helps herself to a glass of water.
After a swallow, her voice shakes as she resumes her damned lies. “Joanne must’ve followed me to your house, and from there to the bar.”
Playing to a female audience of one, she wipes away her fake tears. “When I told Wulf about her appetites, your husband leapt at the bait. He couldn’t wait to join us. Once I got off, he wanted to play choking games. My poor friend gave him her scarf and he let it go on too long. So, he left her there. I tried to get him to call 911, but he ran out so fast, there was nothing I could do.”
Gwen points to the door. “Get out, you duplicitous bitch, or I swear to God, I will kill you.”
Sputtering about repercussions, Brittany backs out our kitchen door. After her taillights disappear, I pull out my phone, anxious to view the recording.
“You got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What?” My spouse places her weapon on the granite countertop, slips her arm around my side, and stares at the screen.
“My battery died.” As I continue to curse my bad luck and plug in my charger, Gwen bites her lower lip.
“Well, I might have something better.”
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, have a copy of her taped confession?” My sarcasm flies over her head.
Eyes wide, she pushes up on her glasses. “There’s a video of them arguing in the restroom, before you arrived.”
“Where is it?” I can’t believe she has withheld vital evidence.
Her gaze drops to her pink toenails, and she lowers her voice until I almost can’t hear. “I don’t have it. Ledbetter does.”
If I were a cartoon, right about now, my head would be exploding. “Explain.”
When I get up in her face, she walks into the bedroom and returns holding a burner phone. “Don’t be mad. I was going to tell you. There hasn’t been time. Sit. Please.”
Imagining the worst, I drop into a chair and lift my eyebrows. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Unable to meet my gaze, she hands me the device. “The front desk manager gave this to me. Someone said it was mine, but obviously, it’s not. I called the one contact number, spoke to Danbury, then he sent me a clip of what happened right before the murder.”
Why, in God’s name, wouldn’t she share this with me? Unless… “What price did he ask in return?”
“Me.”
Ah, fuck me dead.
Chapter 14
“The wolves prey upon the lambs in the darkness of the night, but the blood stains remain upon the stones in the valley until the dawn comes, and the sun reveals the crime to all.” ~Kahlil Gibran
