Ramsey thought about the fireplace in the living room and was drawn to the idea of calm and cozy. She didn’t want to ruin that ambience with her problems. “Kitchen is fine.” In addition to the counter and stools, there was a table inserted into a bow window nook with a semi-circle of padded bench seating.
Sullivan found Ramsey sitting at one opening of the nook with her hands folded on the table. He was put in mind of a pupil waiting for a dressing down from her teacher. “You want something to drink?”
“Do you have something strong?” she asked. “Really strong?”
“How about a Rusty Nail?”
“Sounds like it would do the trick.”
“Then you’ve never had one? Maybe you should try—” He stopped because she was a giving him the gimlet eye. “All right. Rusty Nail it is.” He went to the pantry and got out the Scotch whisky and Drambuie and set them on the counter. He removed an old-fashioned glass from a cupboard, filled it with ice, and poured three-quarters of an ounce of Drambuie and an ounce and one half of
Scotch over the ice. “No lemon for a twist, I’m afraid.” He gave the glass a little swirl on the countertop to stir it and took it over to her. “This is a sipping drink.”
“Got it.” She took a mouthful, swallowed, and blinked rapidly when her eyes watered.
“Or you can throw it back like that.” He took his place opposite her.
“You’re not having one?” she croaked. That voice was definitely not her own. She smiled wanly.
“Thought I should have a clear head.”
She nodded. “Probably one of us should.” She set her glass down and swiped at her eyes. “My belly’s on fire.”
So was his but not for the same reason. He wanted to tell her to jump in with whatever she had to say, but pressing her did not strike him as a good option.
Ramsey rolled the old-fashioned glass in her palms. She inhaled and released that breath slowly. “That was my ex that Buddy saw me with this morning.”
Sullivan nodded, disappointed but not surprised. When the thought crossed his mind earlier, he’d hoped he was wrong.
“You knew?”
“It occurred to me.”
“Hmm. I wasn’t expecting him, Sullivan. That’s true on the one hand. On the other, there’s part of me that’salwaysbeen expecting him. It finally happened last night. He was on my porch waiting for me when I got home.”
Sullivan searched her features for some indication as to how she received the visit. Her face was as expressive as a blank screen. “I can’t make you out, Ramsey. How was that for you?”
“I took my Walther out of my glove box and put it in my pocket.”
“Oh. So not welcome.”
The even line of Ramsey’s mouth changed to a wry twist. “Yeah.”
“You didn’t try to shoot him, did you?”
“No. Considered and discarded. He provoked me but not sufficiently to take aim.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
“Maybe. Listen, Sullivan, it’s like this, you were right about some things that I couldn’t own yet, and you deserve the truth now. I was close to telling you anyway, so don’t get it in your head that the only reason you’re hearing this is because Jay forced my hand. He hasn’t. I thought a lot about what I would do last night before I knew what he wanted, and then after breakfast, I thought about it more while I was pretending to work. I could still keep this mess to myself, not share it with you, with anyone, but the thing is, Idotrust you.”
He regarded her solemnly. “And…”
“And you were on the right track when you asked me if I was I running. I wasn’t. I’d stopped. Actually, I only ever ran once, and that was a couple of months after the divorce. Jay was stalking me, or at least it felt that way. Phone calls. Texts. Showing up at my apartment. I took out a protective order that slowed him down but didn’t solve the problem. Something happened around that time and I saw an opportunity to get away and start over. I did some research, some planning, and I spoke to an attorney and got financial advice, and had help with the legal steps to change my name. I went into the courthouse as Elizabeth Carpenter and stepped out as Ramsey Masters. Ramsey was my maiden name. Masters was an impulse. Jay still calls me Liz. I’m Lizzie to my family. Lizzie Carpenter. They think I kept my married name.”
31
Lizzie Carpenter.Sullivan rolled the name over in his mind but didn’t say it aloud. “I take it you left after the name change was final.”
