Chapter Fifty-Three Her

Chapter Fifty-Three Her

Present Day

The only good thing about Richmond being exposed for some of his gigantic faults was my newfound ability to go out for coffee.

I had a clear lane, one that would likely close, but not before I got out for some air. The whole excursion took twenty minutes.

I enjoyed every minute of it until I turned back onto my street.

Portia. Standing at the gate to the house. She wore another all-black outfit and pulled it off. The kid had style. But instead

of her usual cool teenage detachment, she flitted around and repeatedly pressed the buzzer for the house intercom. She’d turned

into a fiery ball of tension.

I pulled into the driveway and lowered the window on her side of the car. “What are you doing?”

She rushed over. “Is my mom with you?”

“The answer to that question will always be no.” Kathryn. Always Kathryn. At the end of every problem, there she was.

Portia bit her bottom lip. “This is bad.”

She had perfected the art of ignoring everything and everyone. Not today. Panic ran through every jerky movement and harsh

breath. I could see her hands shaking.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Mom saw the news and lost it. The thing with Dad’s business partner. All the surgery stuff.” Portia’s gaze bounced around

the yard and to the road. She was wound up and looked ready to pop. “Her cell kept ringing and she got more and more upset.

Then she grabbed her keys and stormed out.”

The more out of control Portia got, the calmer I became. One of us needed to stay in control. It sounded like Kathryn’s tantrum

meant she needed a few minutes alone to cool off. That seemed like a mom thing to do and not an emergency.

“Why do you think your mother came here?” I was the last person Kathryn would run to. She had friends. Charity people. Someone

who wasn’t me.

“She blames you for stuff.”

Hard to argue with that.

In good news, the gate was locked. My alarm app wasn’t pinging out a warning. No police in the driveway. No screaming.

I forced my mind to focus. Portia was my concern right now. The girl was near tears. She’d been dropped into this sucking

vortex when her dad died and none of this was her fault.

Some of it was mine, so I unlocked the car door. “Get in.”

Portia didn’t argue. She plopped in the passenger seat and shut the door. Instead of talking, she fiddled with the window

button.

Now what? “Can you call her? There are ways to track her phone. We could try that.”

Portia shrugged. “She left her cell in the kitchen.”

Of course she did. Not smart. Kind of annoying. Totally seemed like something Kathryn would do to piss me off... or she

didn’t want anyone to be able to track her.

I kept that concern to myself as I drove down the lane toward the house. Only my mom’s car sat in the circular driveway. That didn’t solve Portia’s problem, but it solved mine. No run-in with Kathryn today. She was somewhere but not here.

“Her car isn’t—”

Portia pointed. “I think that’s it.”

The side drive. The one that ran along the house, hidden from the road. The same one Thomas used. Time to rip the pavers out

and bulldoze the whole thing to keep unwanted company from using it.

I pulled forward and there it was. A fancy black sedan. “Is that her license plate?”

“I don’t know.” But Portia’s grim expression said she assumed yes. “She’s in the house, isn’t she?”

Stay calm. I thought the words then let them repeat in my head like a mantra. An angry Kathryn was a dangerous Kathryn. One of us in

the car—unfortunately me—had to be the adult.

“She couldn’t get inside.” I made the comment more to reassure myself than Portia.

“Then where is she?”

Good question. If Kathryn was looking for a fight she could have rung the doorbell and... “My mom.”

“What?”

Oh, shit. I threw off my seat belt. Every instinct told me to rush inside and break up the inevitable knock-down fight. The connection

between Mom and Kathryn promised a bruising battle. Anything could happen. My money was on Mom to win, and she sucked at winning.

Lost in a nightmare about the showdown in my house, I for got about Portia for a second. She sat in the passenger’s seat all wide-eyed and tense. I probably shared the same look.

“Look, it’s okay. I’ll figure this out.” I opened the car door. Portia reached for the handle on her side at the same time.

“No. You stay here. Promise?”

She didn’t answer right away. I waited for a nod then I took off. I didn’t have time to weigh the possibility of her upholding

her part of the deal. I needed to be in that house.

I rushed up the side steps. The thudding of my shoes warning the ladies about my impending arrival. Juggling keys and my bag,

I opened the door and walked into the mudroom. I needed my hands free in case I had to break up a fight or something worse,

so I dropped everything on the table.

Silence enveloped me. The only sound came from my harsh panting.

Momentum propelled me through empty rooms on the way to the front entry. Kathryn stood there looking uncharacteristically

disheveled. Her purple wrap dress had pulled to one side and snagged high on her hip. The tie belt was about an inch from

coming undone. She didn’t have her usual expensive bag. Her arms hung at her sides. She kept grabbing fistfuls of material

from the skirt part of the dress and letting go. Over and over.

Pale face. A glassy-eyed blank expression.

No sign of Mom.

I had a million questions. “How did you get in?”

“You ruined everything.”

That voice, so distant and hollow. Not her usual racing words and overblown comments. She teetered on an invisible edge.

She shook her head. “You lied and bullied your way into our lives. Richmond is dead. People are talking about him. About me.”

The hit to Richmond’s reputation had threatened her social status and she was responding with a breakdown like I’d never seen.

Portia needed to stay outside. Go home. Not see this. “Let’s—”

“You don’t get to talk!” Kathryn screamed the words.

Mom would come running any second and I needed Kathryn calm by then. Elias should conduct one of his drop-ins right now...

and bring an ambulance. “Kathryn...”

“I offered you a deal, probably more money than you’ve ever seen, and you refused. Richmond and I both tried to pay you off,

but you had to be greedy. You wouldn’t leave.”

Even while flailing she claimed ownership of everything she’d already lost. “Okay, I know you don’t like—”

“You don’t know anything.” She moved closer. “You don’t understand what I had to put up with from him. What I had to ignore

and excuse from the beginning.”

The twinge of sympathy and more than a little guilt surprised me. I’d written Kathryn off a long time ago. Seeing her now,

I couldn’t ignore that she bore the brunt of the divorce. I blackmailed him but her life was the one upended. Richmond might

have been an asshole, but he was her asshole. He treated her like crap, but their lives were inextricably tied and losing that anchor had her floundering.

She kept moving, drawing closer. Her dress swished against her knees, showing off dark spots by the hem. They actually ran

up to her waist and ended in a larger splotch. I’d missed the marks before but not now.

Blood.

The quiet house.

A dropping sensation, like being on a roller coaster during the downswing, started in my stomach. “Where’s my mom?”

Kathryn’s expression didn’t change. “I brought my own bat.”