“Right. But it isn’t in this older image. If my calculations aren’t off, it appeared in the year after Marielle vanished.”
“You think Rayna built it? To hide the body?”
“How about this? Marielle and Rayna had their big fight, and the folks at Ivory and Ink knew they’d fallen out because of the frosty atmosphere at work, but the neighbours stayed in the dark. That isn’t the kind of thing you broadcast. Latoya said Marielle wasn’t social, and she wasn’t close to anyone but Rayna and Angelo. So Rayna got fired and everyone assumed Marielle took off for South America, but Rayna stayed behind in the house.”
“If Angelo visited, it wouldn’t have been hard for her to hide behind a couch.”
“Exactly. Meanwhile, she buried Marielle in the yard. But she couldn’t stay on Long Island forever with no income, plus her name was mud in the design community, and unlike Marielle, Rayna needed to be around people in order to fuel her pathological need for attention. So starting fresh in California makes sense. But she was also greedy, so why not rent out the house as well? The body was well-hidden, and to make doubly sure a pesky landscaper didn’t start digging, she stuck a summerhouse on the top. What do you think?”
What would Mom do? Whenever I needed to get into the head of a narcissist, I just thought of her. Could I imagine her being that dumb? Absolutely. She thought she was smart enough that she’d never get caught. And she’d probably spend the rent money on shoes.
“I think Rayna was both arrogant enough and reckless enough to do something like that.”
If she’d had access to Marielle’s bank account, she would have drained that as well. Maybe she couldn’t find the card?
“Any idea which law enforcement agency has jurisdiction?” Ari asked.
“Has to be either the Suffolk County Sheriff’s Office or the Suffolk County PD. I’ll find out.” On second thought… “You know what? The FBI also has an office in Suffolk County. They can deal with it.”
“This isn’t a federal case.”
“No, but I know an FBI guy, and judging by how little work he does, they have more time to make phone calls than I do.”
“You’re going to…use the FBI instead of Google?”
“I mean, they’re not having much luck solving regular crimes.”
I picked up the phone and called Special Agent Branning.
CHAPTER 44
ALEXA
“Uh, I can’t breathe.”
Nolan leaned in closer and kissed my forehead. “But you look amazing.”
Spider laughed from the stool next to me. “Yeah, she has boobs.”
“And she also looks older than fourteen,” Jez added.
“Remind me again why I invited you witches?”
“Because you wanted to know what was in your neighbour’s safe,” Spider said, and okay, that was true. The emails between Everett Cranston and the gem companies talked about samples, so I figured the Cranstons had already helped themselves to a bunch of diamonds, and I was curious to know how many. Since Spider cracked safes as a hobby, she was the best woman for the job, and she’d found fourteen lumps of kimberlite, each nestled in a velvet pouch, all tucked into the safe in the floor of Antonella’s walk-in closet.
Tempting though it was to reclaim the loot, we’d left them where they were. It wasn’t time to show our hand yet.
After Spider’s sneak-and-peek, we’d escorted Donna Hayes up to her cabin to pick up the stuff she’d left behind when she moved to the shelter. It was the perfect time to do so because not only was she planning to move into her new apartment next week, but Bo and the boys were in the hospital. Nothing sinister—with Donna gone, Bo had been forced to try his hand at cooking, and they’d all gotten salmonella poisoning. There was talk of the boys spending time in a foster home afterward, and although Donna kept berating herself for being a bad mother, the therapist had convinced her that she needed to get her own shit together before she considered having the two little terrors move in with her again.
Now we were getting ready for tonight’s little get-together. Marcel had sent a stylist and a party planner, and Nolan’s home and terrace had been transformed into a winter wonderland with twinkling lights, fake snow, and a string quartet dressed in shimmering silver dresses. We’d missed Halloween, so officially, it was a pre-Christmas party for friends and neighbours, but really, it was a fuck-you party for two people in particular.
Did we know that all the sabotage was down to them? No, but the fire sure had been, and I was willing to bet they’d been involved in at least some of the earlier incidents too. The sulphur dioxide, for example. Antonella was all about subtlety, and it made more sense for her to target Dionysus than for Marielle. Marielle had targeted me personally. First with stupid stuff like the coffee, then she’d escalated rapidly and come at me with scissors.
Anyhow, the sabotage had stopped for now, but we wanted to make sure the pause was permanent. The hedge fund project would provide a long-term solution, so we needed to put an interim safeguard in place, one that would make the Cranstons realise they wouldn’t be getting the pasture, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. And the best way to do that? Apparently, good hair and a five-thousand-dollar dress. Actually, five five-thousand-dollar dresses because Spider, Jez, Ari, and Erin decided that if I needed to play a wealthy heiress, then they should look the part too. No wonder the stylist seemed so happy—she was probably on commission.
Chase walked in with a tray of champagne.
“Isn’t it a bit early for this?” I asked. “I don’t want to celebrate prematurely.”
