“But I was always under the impression that he really cared about Lizzie.”
“Maybe he did, but it was more like he felt responsible for her.” He swallowed the last of his soda. “You were a totally different case. From the beginning, it was obvious to all of us how crazy Ali was about you.”
“But he stayed with Lizzie for a few years before he met me.”
“Marrying you was Ali’s escape,” he told me. “You were basically his get-out-of-jail card. You freed him from Lizzie.”
“I have to ask you a question,” I said when Lizzie opened her hotel room door shortly after my meeting with Ian.
“Another one?” She shot me an exasperated look. “I thought I answered all your questions. No, your husband didn’t buy me a house. No, I was not having an affair with your husband. What else could you want to know?”
“I just saw Ian. He pretty much confirmed that he was stalking you.”
“You reached out to Ian?” She opened the door wider. “Why? You didn’t believe me?”
“I don’t know you that well. Let’s just say I wanted to hear it from a second source.”
She threw up her hands. “OK, then ... If Ian confirmed what I told you, then why are you here? What else do you need to know?”
“One question has really been nagging at me. I still don’t know why Ali visited your mother on the day he died.”
“Neither do I.” She exhaled loudly. “You might as well come in. I’m making a salad.”
I followed her into the kitchen area, where a cutting board and vegetables for salad were laid out on the counter.
Leaning against the wall, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Your mother said it was a shame what happened to Ali.”
“What’s wrong with that?” She diced a carrot, making sharp thwacking noises each time the knife hit the wooden cutting board. “Itisa shame that he died in the car accident.”
“Yes, but the thing is that your mother said thatbeforeI told her that Ali was dead.”
“Amira,” Lizzie said in a way that suggested I was testing her patience but she was still trying to be nice about it. “My mother is very ill. She is easily confused and very forgetful. The meds she takes for her illness don’t exactly promote mental clarity. I can’t tell you what she meant by that. I honestly have no idea.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that Ali suddenly decided to visit your mother after, what ... twenty-three years of not being in touch with her?”
She scooped the carrots into a metal mixing bowl. “Maybe he visited her regularly. He had a bond with my mother. They were very fond of each other.”
I watched her movements. “Your mom said he’d never visited before.”
“Like I said, Mother is forgetful.” She paused to look at me. “Why is this so important?”
“My husband died suddenly and had Xanax in his system.” My throat clogged with emotion. “The man never took anxiety meds. I would have known if he was anxious. Maybe if I visit your mother again, she’ll be able to tell me why Ali went to visit her.”
Lizzie went very still. “I wish you would let it go. If Ali wanted you to know why he was anxious, he would have told you.”
“Wanted me to know what?” I straightened. “What do you know?”
Her eyes slid away. “I don’t know if Ali was hiding something.” She started cutting a cucumber. A methodical chop, chop, chop. “I’m just saying that, if he was, maybe he had a good reason for it.”
There was something she wasn’t saying. As usual. But what was different this time was that I sensed that Lizzie actually seemed on the verge of telling me the truth.
“Please just tell me. There are too many unanswered questions,” I pleaded. “I can’t rest until I know everything.”
Lizzie paused, staring down at the round slices of cucumber. “I won’t allow you to visit my mother because your presence will upset her.”
“Why? She barely knows me.”
She set the knife down. “Because she associates you with Ali, and he was responsible for the biggest tragedy in her life.”
