Chapter Fifty-Nine

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Harriet doesn't react; I'm pretty sure she didn't notice.

"Now it's time for the journey back down. I'd appreciate it if you would stay close in front of me this time, just in case."

My mind whips through different scenarios: If I tell Harriet I want to take her up on her offer of tea, I can slip upstairs while she's in the kitchen. Or perhaps Rose is plotting on her own; maybe she'll come to me.

"Stella?" Harriet moves closer to me, reaching out like she's going to touch me again.

"That's fine," I say quickly.

Harriet gives me her cane and I step in front of her. She turns to face the banister, holding on to it with both hands. She leads with her right foot, then slides her left foot down to the same step before repeating the process.

We make our slow, laborious way downstairs. By the time we reach the first floor, Harriet is breathing hard.

"Mind if we sit in the living room?" I ask before Harriet can show me to the door. "To be honest, I've had a long day and I need to rest for a moment, too."

Harriet's expression is strained as she settles into a chair by the piano.

I take the hard, formal couch so my back is to a wall, tucking my hand into my pocket to reassure myself my phone is still there.

I need to distract Harriet. Disarm her. Buy time until Rose and I can find a way to each other. So I start talking fast.

"Thank you for taking me upstairs. I know how difficult it was. Now I can file my recommendation with the court. But I was wondering if we could chat for a few moments, just informally."

Beth and Harriet and Ian have hatched a plot to circumvent my report. They'll probably have Ian's work crew here first thing tomorrow, transforming the two-story shed into his new living quarters. Beth will withdraw her divorce petition. And I'll be completely powerless to help Rose, or even ever see her again.

I make a split-second decision to lean into the plot they're hatching. Maybe Harriet will say something I can bring to the judge and use as evidence of what the Barclays are doing. I can't legally record her, but I can be a reputable witness.

"I noticed Beth and Ian seemed to be on much better terms tonight when I saw them outside," I say casually.

Harriet leans forward, her eyes brightening.

"I noticed the same thing. Before they left, I actually heard them laughing in the kitchen."

I raise my eyebrows. "Do you think that's because they know a resolution is coming soon, and they'll be able to proceed with the divorce?"

Harriet shakes her head. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually think it's the opposite. Beth and Ian and I all had a long talk earlier. They've been so caught up in the heat of the moment they lost sight of what's important. Now they're finally putting Rose first."

Anger surges through me; no one in this family is putting Rose first. It's a struggle to keep my face neutral.

"That's wonderful. But—what does that mean for Beth and Ian going forward? Do you actually think a reconciliation is possible?"

A smile spreads across Harriet's face as she nods. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?

"An ugly divorce is so terrible for families," she continues. "Believe me, I went through one myself when Ian was a boy, and it scarred me so deeply I never dated anyone seriously again. I tried to shield Ian from the worst of his father's actions, but he was badly affected. How could he not be when his father was sleeping with our next-door neighbor's wife? That may be why Ian acted out with Tina; he was replicating old patterns he learned from his male role model. Ian is finally beginning to take responsibility for what he did to this family."

She leans closer to me. "So yes, I do think there's a real possibility Ian and Beth may try to reconcile."

A noise comes from overhead. Is it the creak of a door opening? Rose may be creeping out into the hallway. But I can't listen for more clues because Harriet may hear them, too.

I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind: "It might be hard for Beth to trust Ian again, but I think trust can be earned."

"Absolutely." Harriet is beaming now. "I think it's safe to say Ian won't be straying outside of the marriage again, if Beth gives him a second chance. It will take some time, but in the end, they'll both realize how important this family is, and how hard it would be to go through life alone."

I hear what sounds like a footstep overhead. Rose needs to be quieter; she's making too much noise.

I keep babbling. "And of course, you're the one who told me that women don't get burned twice if they know how to look for the clues. What was it you said? When a guy's acting strange about his cell phone…"

An electric bolt tears through my body.

I stare at Harriet, feeling my eyes widen as my mind reels back to just a few nights ago, when Harriet swayed on the porch swing and described one of the signs of a cheater.

They're suddenly all jittery and possessive about their phones.

That's the detail that just electrified me, commanding me to pay attention.

Something isn't adding up.

Because Harriet's husband cheated when Ian was a boy—more than thirty years ago. Cell phones weren't common back then. They certainly weren't used for instant messaging and selfie transmissions, like they are today. So why did Harriet reference this particular clue?

Maybe it's something she saw on television or read in a book.

But it didn't sound that way. There was a bitter edge to her tone that felt deeply personal.

"Stella?" Harriet peers at me. "You've gone a bit pale. Would you like some water?"

I nod and try to smile, but it feels as plastic as this house.

Another memory slides into my brain, like a jagged shard fitting into place as I reassemble a shattered vase.

I've never been with a guy who acted strangely around his cell phone in the way Harriet described. But I know one who does: Ian. He even told me so.

The very first time I met him, Ian described sitting at the dinner table and asking his daughter if she wanted more green beans as his cell phone buzzed against the table, alerting him to an incoming selfie of Tina in lingerie.

Rose and Beth and Harriet would all have had the opportunity to gauge Ian's reaction when he picked up his phone and glimpsed the picture.

Beth might not have known how to look for the clue.

But Harriet already told me she did. She'd been burned once by her husband, and her family was destroyed. She would have noticed Ian and Beth's slow drifting apart. She'd be on high alert for further signs of trouble.

Even Phillip the piano teacher remarked on how quickly Tina dropped everything to rush to Ian's side. Surely Harriet, with her heightened awareness of these sorts of situations, would have noticed Tina's longing glances at Ian and her eagerness to be with him.

"I could use something to drink myself," Harriet says, reaching for her cane and heaving herself to her feet.

I stand up, too, and slide my hand into my coat pocket again, closing my fingers around my phone.

There's another important element, one I hadn't considered before: Sounds travel between floors in this house.

And Ian and Tina shared their first kiss in the kitchen, directly above Harriet's living space.

My mind is diving into the thick, hard knot at the center of the problem I've been trying to solve, feeling it finally begin to loosen.

If Harriet was aware of Ian's affair with Tina, and if family is so desperately important to her, why wouldn't she have done something to put an end to it?

My mouth dries up as three words float into my mind:

Unless she did.

"Maybe a little Chardonnay instead of water would hit the spot," Harriet says. "Perhaps you'd like some, too, Stella?"

My throat is so dry it's tough to release the words "Sounds good."

Her slow limp to the kitchen will buy me more time to work the knot.

"After you." Harriet is standing by her chair, gesturing for me to lead the way to the kitchen.

The shortest path between me and the kitchen would require me to skirt the inside of the coffee table and pass very close to Harriet.

My instincts are screaming at me not to go anywhere near her.

So I walk to the other end of the coffee table, taking a wide arc around the room, watching Harriet the whole time out of the side of my eye.

Harriet is staring at me. I can't read her expression. But something in her eyes is changing.

"Wine sounds perfect," I say loudly, hoping my voice will carry to Rose and alert her that we're moving to the kitchen.

The shattered pieces are assembling quickly now. I know what to do, just as Charles promised I would.

I need to get Rose out of this house as fast as I can.

I've finally identified the source of the dark energy that permeates this house. I felt it when her whisper snaked deep into my ear like a curl of gray smoke. It's always present because she is always present.

It comes from Harriet.

Harriet pretended to be Rose's alibi during the time of Tina's death.

But I think Harriet was actually using Rose as her alibi.