“It’s definitely the worst idea you’ve ever had! Did you not hear what I just said about keeping your distance?”
We both fell silent as my parents emerged from the house. My mother took the children’s hands and walked them toward the playground at the end of the block. My father followed behind her, carrying a picnic cooler and a diaper bag.
One of the older children playing soccer on the street corner paused his game to watch them. He called out to his friends, “Check it out. Those are the kids whose dad slept with the dead guy’s wife.”
My mother covered Delia’s ears as my father nudged the children along. My face heated with rage. The rumors about Steven had gone too far. I couldn’t care less if my neighbors wanted to gossip about my ex-husband, but I drew the line when it hurt my children. I was determined to get to the bottom of this once and for all. If Gilford Dupree’s wife was lying, she’d better be ready to set the record straight.
“Where are you going?” Nick called after me as I opened the door of my van.
“To Penny Dupree’s,” I snapped, “to ask her if she slept with my husband.”
“Finlay, stop!” He put a hand on the window when I slammed the door between us. “You can’t just show up at her house asking her those kinds of—Christ,” he said as I started the engine.
I put the van in gear, leaving Nick standing in my driveway as I peeled out.
I drove with one hand, googling Penny’s address with the other. Before I made it out of the neighborhood, Nick’s Impala rolled up behind me. My cell phone rang in my lap. His name flashed on the screen. I ignored it, pulling a hard right out of South Riding and hitting the gas, not bothering to check my blind spots as I merged into oncoming traffic.
Nick’s face was livid in my rearview mirror when he caught up to me again. He grabbed the mic from the radio under his dashboard and put it to his mouth, his voice booming from the speakers. “Pull over, Finlay,” he said in his cop voice. “Please,” he added when I didn’t comply.
I accelerated through a yellow light. He rolled through it as it turned red, sticking close to my bumper. “Pull over so we can talk about this like rational adults.”
I was too angry to be rational. I shifted over a lane, putting distance between us.
He shifted over, too, blue lights beginning to flash in his front grille.
My phone vibrated again. This time, Vero’s name appeared on the screen. I connected the call.
“Finn? Where the hell did you and Nick go racing off to? One minute you were practically making out behind the van in the driveway, and the next both your cars were gone.”
“We were not making out! We were just talking.”
“Mrs. Haggerty says it looks more like the two of you were arguing. So does your sister. Cam thinks so, too. Wait—” she said, muting the phone against her body, “your mom wants to know what you and Nick were arguing about. She’s very concerned. She wants to know if this means she should plan Georgia and Sam’s wedding first.”
“There is no wedding!” I snapped. “Were you all watching us?”
“Not all of us,” Vero clarified. “The rest of us were too busy starting a pool about whether or not Steven is lying. I hate to break it to you, but the odds don’t look good.”
“I don’t care what it looks like! I’m going to Penny Dupree’s house to find out the truth!”
“You can’t go to that woman’s house!” Vero cried. “If a sharp object accidentally impales her and she dies a slow horrible death while you’re standing in her living room, who do you think is going to get blamed for her murder? The scorned then-wife of the douchebag she was sleeping with. That’s who! You’re not going there alone, Finlay!”
“I’m not going alone. Nick’s right behind me.” His siren whooped twice in warning. “Shit,” I murmured, catching his eyes in my rearview mirror. “I have to go. I’ll be home before the kids’ bedtime. There’s leftover meatloaf in the fridge. And don’t worry,” I said before she could ask, “I don’t have any sharp objects in my purse.”
“That’s probably smart. Also, remember to tuck your thumb under your fist before you—”
I disconnected the call and tossed my phone in the drink holder. My van shook as it struggled to meet the demands of my angry foot. It’s not like I didn’t already know Steven was a cheater before today’s shiny new revelation. Hell, apparently everyone did. But I was sick of people talking about me and the kids as if Steven’s mistakes definedus. I didn’t want Delia to grow up as thecheater’s kidor themurderer’s kid. Or thedaughter of the woman who’d had no idea what her husband had been doing under her own damn roof. Every bet against Steven felt like a bet against me, like I was too foolish or too naive to have seen through all of his lies from the beginning.
Nick’s Impala surged after me until he was right on my bumper. He eased his car a few feet to the left, making sure I could clearly see his police lights in my driver’s side mirror.
He lifted the mic to his lips. “Finlay, please. This is a bad idea.” I shook my head, certain he could see me, too. He was going to have to arrest me for evading a traffic stop or wait until I was done confronting Penny. Either she was lying or Steven was, and there was only one way to find out who.
I turned left onto Mrs. Dupree’s street, temporarily losing Nick to the rush of oncoming traffic. I slowed down, angling forward in my seat to search the mailboxes for her house number. It didn’t take me long to find it.
I pulled over and shut off the engine while I glared at her front door. It was the same one I had remembered from the images on the news. I tried to picture Steven’s truck parked in her driveway. His hand on her door as he knocked. I had hoped it would be harder to imagine than it was.
Nick’s car screeched to the curb behind me. He killed the blue lights and got out, jogging to intercept me as I opened my door. “Stop,” he said, cornering me as I got out of the van. “I know you’re hurt and you’re angry, but you don’t have to do this.”
“Neither do you.” The look on my face told him he was welcome to go.
