“Was she wearing one of the tan slickers?”
“From the house? Why do you ask?”
“Because she had it on when I found her.”
“No, she must have grabbed it afterward.”
“And what did you talk to her about?”
“About work, about Dad.”
“Did you ask if she was sleeping with your father?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. We want to get Dad engaged in our business again, and based on things he said at the meeting on Sunday, Jillian was erecting her own share of roadblocks—which she had no right to do. For god’s sake, she was hisassistant, not his business strategist. Sorry to speak ill of the dead.”
“Keira said you were havingwords.”
He shakes his head dismissively. “No, but it did get a little heated. I asked her to butt out of stuff that was above her pay grade. That’s why we decided it would be stupid to mention it to the police. Why distract them with something like that?”
From somewhere deep inside of me, I pick up the faintest siren sound, like a tornado warning that’s miles and miles away but still close enough to scare you.
“What?” Gabe asks.
“It’s just... I don’t know.”
“What?” he asks again, this time with the hint of a scowl.
“The timing seems weird, that’s all.”
“You mean us having a contentious talk with Jillian this morning? Well, needless to say, we had no idea she’d end up murdered later.”
“I meant why be talking to her at all this week, with so much happening? Was Jillian such a big threat to everything that the conversation couldn’t wait?”
For a moment there is silence so pronounced it almost has a sound of its own.
“What exactly are you suggesting, Summer?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Gabe. I’m only asking what the rush was.”
ButamI implying something?
“You used the wordthreat. It almost sounds like you think Marcus and I wanted Jillian out of the way.”
“Ofcoursenot, Gabe.”
“First it was Hannah you thought was a murderer. Now it’s me. Next you’ll be accusing me of poisoning my own mother.”
“Gabe, that’s ridiculous.” My heart is drumming so hard now I can hear it in my ears.
I reach for his arm again, but he yanks it away. He turns on his heels and leaves the house, slamming the door hard behind him.
23
Desperately catching my breath, I peek into the hall to make sure no one’s there and could have overheard us. To my relief, it’s empty.
I’m in shock from the conversation I’ve just had with my husband. How did it go so awry? I hardly think Gabe is a murderer. Not for a second. But it troubles me that at a time like this he seems more worried about his business than anything else. Plus, he’s held back a couple of things from me lately—how upset he was with his mother the day she died, the discussion with Jillian. Which makes me wonder if there’sotherstuff he hasn’t told me.
My priority right now, though, is Henry. After locking the front door, I hurry to the dining room, where he’s sitting at the table, his eyes trained on the chessboard. The dogs are lying sad-eyed on either side of his chair.
