Sure enough, I unlocked my front door and was greeted by a barrage of gunfire and squealing tires. The house smelled faintly of garlic and pepperoni. Cam and Mrs. Haggerty sat shoulder to shoulder in the dark, their oddly matched shapes silhouetted by the brightlight of the TV screen. An empty pizza box sat on the coffee table in front of them. Neither of them looked up from their game as I came inside and shut the door.
Grateful not to have to talk to anyone, I slipped off my shoes and headed upstairs.
Vero’s door was shut. I listened before knocking, hoping she was awake, but her low voice suggested she was on the phone, probably with Javi. I retreated to my bedroom instead, not bothering to interrupt her.
The room smelled slightly of Mrs. Haggerty’s arthritis cream. I switched on a single lamp by the bed and then closed the door, muting the sound of the TV downstairs while I hunted in my dresser for clean clothes for the morning. I gathered a pair of clean underwear and some pj’s, too, not caring if any of my selections matched. My hand paused on the red negligee. The silk and lace spilled like water through my fingers as I dropped it back in the drawer.
When I had everything I needed for the night, I switched off the lamp and turned to go.
Light flashed through the blinds, twice in quick succession, the burst of it casting shadows over the wall.
Hugging my clothes to my chest, I walked to the window and peeked around the blinds, wondering if Nick had changed his mind and followed me the rest of the way home.
A car idled at the foot of my driveway with its headlights off, and though I couldn’t make out the model or color of the small hatchback in the dark, I was certain it wasn’t Nick’s Impala. Someone was sitting in the driver’s seat, pointing a flashlight at my window. The driver lingered in front of my mailbox before slowly driving off.
Just like Friday night, when Mrs. Haggerty had gone on her patrol of the neighborhood.
I set my clothes on the dresser and hurried down the stairs, careful not to attract Cam or Mrs. Haggerty’s attention as I slipped on my shoes on my way out of the house. I opened the mailbox and found a folded note inside it.
I’m ready to join the club. See you on Tuesday.
I sighed at the ridiculousness of it all. Here I was, trying to keep my ex-husband out of prison for a crime that had happened in Mrs. Haggerty’s backyard. Meanwhile, she was playing video games in my house, oblivious to everything, sneaking out in the middle of the night to deliver secret messages to her friends and scheduling social calls she couldn’t even drive herself to. It was like living with a teenager.
I carried the note back up to my room and set it on my nightstand, beside Mrs. Haggerty’s cell phone, where she’d be sure to see it. The image of the cell phone and the book club message sitting side by side struck an odd chord in my brain. I paused there for a moment after switching off the lamp.
Why were these women delivering handwritten notes? Mrs. Haggerty had a cell phone, and she knew how to use it. Why hadn’t she and her friend simply called each other?
“Where the hell have you been?” Vero whispered behind me. “I was getting worried.”
I clutched my chest and whirled around to find her standing in the doorway.
“And what are you doing in here in the dark?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Nothing.” I collected my clothes and met her in the hallway.
“How did it go?” she asked. “Are the neighbors going to post reels of your catfight on Instagram tomorrow?”
“There was no catfight. Penny was perfectly pleasant about the whole damn thing.”
Vero dragged me into my office and shut the door. The rollaway bed was neatly made up for me and she sat down on the edge of it, pulling me down with her. “What did you find out?”
I flopped back against the pillow. “Steven and Penny were definitely involved. She knew something about Steven. Something she only could have known if they’d slept together.”
Vero’s nose crinkled with disgust. “Like that crazy noise he makes right before he—?”
I sat up and gasped. “How do you know about that?”
“Are you kidding? The playground moms were all talking about it for months last year after you two split up. Mrs. Zimmerman heard him and Theresa going at it one afternoon while she was walking her dog past Theresa’s town house. She told Reanne, and Reanne told Stacey, and Stacey’s got a big mouth so she told everyone. Paula said there were some nights she could hear him from her—”
“Wait…” I said, getting up to pace the room. Theresa’s town house was only a few blocks down the street. I turned back to Vero. “If everyone in the neighborhood knows Steven is noisy in bed, who’s to say Penny wasn’t lying about the whole thing? What if she was just repeating something she’d heard to make her story more convincing?”
Vero pulled a face. “Why would she lie about sleeping with Steven?”
“Maybe she’s trying to deflect suspicion from someone else.” Vero listened while I told her about the podcasters who’d broken the news of the affair. “Don’t you think it’s a little convenient that as soon as the police found Penny’s husband, some anonymousperson tipped off a podcast, claiming she cheated on her husband five years ago? And suddenly Steven’s a suspect because she happened to hand over a receipt for some mulch?” If someone needed a patsy to take the fall for this murder, Steven was the perfect choice—he lived directly across the street from the place where they’d found the body. He had a reputation for being a cheater, he had worked on Mrs. Haggerty’s garden just before Gilford went missing, and only a handful of months ago, he had been all over the news because five bodies had been exhumed from his farm. “What if Penny killed her husband and she’s framing Steven to cover it up?”
“But ifshekilled Gilford, how did his body end up in Mrs. Haggerty’s backyard? The police said they couldn’t find any connection between the Duprees and the Haggertys.”
“The police missed a connection before,” I pointed out. “Who’s to say they didn’t miss another?”
