Chapter Thirty-Five Her

Chapter Thirty-Five Her

Present Day

Ever since I opened the mailbox to find the threatening note slipped in there I’d skipped collecting the mail. I planned to

continue that practice... then Mom moved in. It had been two days of nonstop contact and I needed some air, even if that

meant going on a fake errand to the end of the driveway.

Leaving her unattended in the house had its disadvantages but there were limits on how much she could steal and hide in her

car during the ten minutes I was out. Frankly, she could have whatever she wanted. Stockpiling possessions was her thing,

not mine.

Before I headed out, I looked out the front window and across the expansive lawn. Information about Richmond’s murder and

my being questioned by the police hit the news this morning. I expected the media to descend soon. Better to take the quick

walk and get back inside now. Stay one step ahead of the gawkers and haters.

“I’m going to get the mail.” I yelled the comment and slipped out the front door before Mom could question me.

I wasn’t looking to invite more conversation. Mom had been quite vocal about her rampant disappointment with what she viewed as my Richmond failures. In her mind, I was to get close to him—she didn’t care how—then drain all of his money and publicly destroy him in a rain

of fake crying. Play the aggrieved and duped woman. Pound his reputation into dust. Destroy him from the inside out then make

it look like he skipped town in a cloud of corruption while she took care of what was left of him.

My premature widowhood messed up her revenge. Him being dead made the exposing him part tricky. At least for now. I planned to circle back and spill the truth, but the timing had to be right. That’s why finding

out more about Richmond’s surgery games and the identity of his actual killer mattered. Until then, pointing out that he was

a lying sack of shit would shine the murderer spotlight right at my head. I’d be viewed as the spurned, disappointed, and

angry wife. An obvious killer.

So, I waited. And now I waited with Mom attached to my side, which was the worst kind of waiting.

Once out front, I inhaled, drawing the cleansing cool air deep into my lungs. Fall, with the shedding of the old and the fiery

death of all that lingered, always appealed to me. The idea of starting over, of renewal, sounded promising. My life had been

prearranged so that concepts like free will rang like a hollow joke.

A few minutes later I arrived at the mailbox. A quick scan showed a strange lack of press and absence of nosy neighbors on

the quiet street. But a storm of angry Richmond minions headed this way. I could feel it. That’s why I turned away without

touching the mailbox. I could stay blessedly out of the know for a few more days about whatever hideous new threat might be

waiting in there.

I turned back to the house and stopped. Something pulled at me. A sense of being... off. I returned to the gate and tugged on it. Still locked, which was a relief. I looked at the hedges just outside the six-foot wall that outlined the property before glancing up at the security camera. The one usually aimed at the mailbox and the space by the entry pad on the other side of the gate. Now, the camera faced the sky.

A branch from the towering tree about five feet away lay on the ground. It looked like it had broken off and knocked the camera

out of alignment. With the nasty throngs I assumed would show up soon, I needed the camera pointing in the right direction.

“Fuck me.” Nothing was ever easy.

I opened the pedestrian gate, a door for foot traffic to the side of the larger driveway gate. I could unlock it manually

from the inside but anyone who wanted to access it from the outside needed the code.

After all that had happened, I knew better than to step outside of the safe area, but the idea of calling Elias whenever I

needed help sort of pissed me off. Balancing safety and smarts with the need to maintain a sliver of independence took a lot

of energy.

One look at the camera from this side of the fence was all it took. I needed a ladder. Did I even own a ladder? Before I could

mentally figure that one out I smelled... what the hell was that scent? Spicy with a note of tobacco.

The hedge moved.

No time to think or regret the rookie mistake of walking outside without a weapon. The branch. I glanced down, thinking to

duck and grab it, but it was gone.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder from behind and slammed me into the tree trunk. A strangled gasp of air whooshed out of my lungs. I tried to scream. But my body bounced against the trunk a second time and my head smacked against the wood, blurring my vision.

“No.” I thought I yelled but my voice barely rose above a whisper.

I grabbed for anything. Material, slick like a raincoat, slipped through my fingers. I kicked back and hit a leg. Heard the

sharp intake of breath other than mine.

Again. Hit this asshole again.

I tried to focus. To aim. To spin around and face my attacker. A scream raced up my throat right before pain crashed through

me from behind. My back. My ribs. I gasped and fell to my knees. The muddy lawn squished beneath me, soaking my pants. The

tree and the gate started to spin and the thud of footsteps echoed in my brain.

I lifted my head to catch a glimpse of the attacker and everything tilted. My body collapsed and my shoulder thudded against

the damp ground. Pain vibrated through me, but I forced my eyes to stay open and rolled onto my back. Pillowy clouds filled

the blue sky and the scent of wet earth wound around me.

Then the world went black.