“No,” Maggie said simply. “I don’t believe it.”
“So why would she think that?”
Maggie carefully explained what she knew—which was little—and why Crista seemed concerned.
“Okay, that’s all…fishy,” Jo Ellen agreed after taking it all in. “But this is Crista. Need I say more?”
“I know,” Maggie said on a sigh. “She tends to…blow things out of proportion.”
“Drama is her default,” Jo Ellen said. “It always has been. Even as a little girl, she was given to meltdowns and tantrums.”
Maggie frowned, never a fan of anyone saying anything negative about her kids, even if it was true.
“She was the youngest, and all the others were teenagers,” Maggie said. “Crista always felt like the odd man out with our kids and the only way to get attention was by crying.”
“Well, she’s not the odd man out now,” Jo Ellen said as though she didn’t buy the rationale.
“She lost her father at ten, Jo,” Maggie added, the words coming out more clipped than she wanted, but how could she not defend Crista? “In the span of a month, her two siblings went to college, her father went to jail, and a few months later, she and I moved out of a beautiful custom-built home that was confiscated by the U.S. government and into a one-bedroom apartment. And I started working, leaving her to fend for herself for a few hours when she got home from school. The next thing she knew, her father died. Of course she’s dramatic.”
“We weren’t speaking in those days,” Jo Ellen said, her voice rich with sympathy. “And I hate that our rift meant I couldn’t be there for you in that dark time.”
Maggie shrugged. “We survived, but Crista is…volatile. Maybe a little afraid of how easily a storybook life can blow up. I don’t fault her for the theatrics, but I don’t for one minute believe she’s right about Anthony.”
“Then there has to be a different explanation,” Jo Ellen said. “None of those things automatically mean there’s another woman. She didn’t catch him in the act.”
Maggie grimaced at the thought.
“She hasn’t confronted him?” Jo Ellen asked.
“He’ll say it’s hormones. That she’s imagining it. She doesn’t want to be dismissed.”
“I hate to say this, Mags, but a woman knows. At least, I think. Artie certainly never cheated.”
“Neither did Roger,” Maggie said. “Unless you count the loan shark who cheated him out of…everything.”
Jo nodded slowly, thinking. “Someone has to prove to Crista that she’s wrong.”
“Of course,” Maggie agreed. “But she’s not listening to common sense.”
“We need someone on the ground. A private investigator?”
“No, I can’t hire?—”
“We could do it, Mags!”
Maggie slowed her step. “We?”
Jo’s mouth curved. “Who better?”
“Um…anyone?”
“I’m serious!” Jo Ellen insisted. “We just need to get up there and follow him around and verify that he’s not having an affair.”
“You’re out of your mind.” Even as Maggie said the words, a whisper of déjà vu rolled over her…along with quite recent memories of a road trip to Miami. “We couldn’t possibly…”
“Why not?” Jo Ellen shot back. “We fire up Scarlett, pack our bags, and start Senior Sleuthing.”
Maggie choked. “Excuse me?”
