I just saw her clearly for the first time.
“Do you really think I’d let him get away with all of this, with you, the embarrassment of it all in front of my company, my daughter?” Kate’s voice is cold, deep. “You see, the pills John took three times a day—the ones he thought were keeping him youthful and stress-free—well those were from me. He thought they were from our naturopath. He thought I cared about him. He was taking potassium. In combination with his blood pressure medicine, potassium chloride causes dangerously low blood pressure, a fatal combination. Perfect, right?”
Kate is laughing. Somebody help me. I try to focus on her, try to make sense of the maniac standing over me. Kate killed John? What?
“Tish, are you scared? Of little old me? Remember, I’m the old version, the washed-up version. That’s what you told everybody at EventCo, right? But still, you were threatened, I could see it. You hated the launch party on IPO night. Hated seeing John and Ashlyn and me together. As if you had anything to do with our success, as if you belonged there. You are a joke. And you know it. I didn’t want John back. I wanted to punish him for leaving me in the first place.”
Where is Chief Briggs? A nurse? Anyone? Listen to her. My heart pounds in my chest, it’s hard to breathe. I hear a monitor start beeping. An alarm.
“So you took him away to the mountains, to our family’s place in Telluride, and finished him off. I’d like to think I would have had it handled, in fact for the longest time I thought my drugs had killed him. But you beat me to it. It was only a matter of time before mine got him.”
I’m the one who killed him. Didn’t I? All this time, she’s been playing me when I thought I was the one in charge. Oh my god.
“And then, for the promise of a few million dollars, you showed me your dirty little secret. The cherry pits. I recorded our chat on my phone. It’s almost a confession, according to the experts. Chief Briggs was so impressed by my helpfulness. And thanks to you, I’ve found love again.”
I want to scream. I want to tell someone. Help me! Kate is a murderer. Where’s the nurse? I want my money. We had a deal. I can pay for a better place and a better lawyer. She owes me. Where is the agreement we signed?
“Goodbye, Tish. If you’re in there, you’re probably wondering if I’m going to honor that agreement we signed the night of your tragic fall.”
I didn’t fall. You pushed me. I know it. Somebody help me. My monitor is going crazy. Did she unplug me? Help!
“Of course, I won’t pay you a dime. Our contract was as fake as the will you concocted. I grabbed both copies and put them in my purse before I dialed 911. I shredded them as soon as I had a chance. There’s no record a deal between us ever existed. It’s a shame you didn’t die that night. But I suppose this is better. I get to say a proper goodbye. I’d pull the plug myself, but it shouldn’t be long now. And remember it’s always best to be the original, to be the first. Not the next. Never the next. I’ll tell you this, though, because of you I did my best work. I channeled a lot of my anger into developing my new Forever product. Not all of it, of course. Some of it I kept focused on John and you.”
I’ve never been so terrified. I’ve never felt so trapped. So alone.
“Ashlyn was angry, too. At you. At her father. Turns out all along, she was on my side. She knew about the real estate trust in her name and her dad’s plan to try to waltz back into our lives as if you never happened. Ridiculous, of course, because he’d taken this fling with you too far, but John was sure we’d agree to take him back. He told Ashlyn all about it the day he died. She knew more once she took John’s phone from you. She even figured out the truth about the pills I gave him. And she understood why. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Somebody help me. Blood is thicker than water. Help me!
“I thought the divorce would kill me. But in the end, I guess it killed John and likely, you.”
I hear the door swoosh open, and sounds from the hallway momentarily animate my room. And then all is silent except for the beeps of the machines keeping me alive for now.
I told you. It isn’t easy being the next wife.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Gracie Doyle, Megha Parekh, and fellow authors for welcoming me to the Thomas & Mercer team. Charlotte Herscher, what an honor to have your editorial insights. Thank you for making this book the best it could be.
To Meg Ruley and Annelise Robey of the Jane Rotrosen Agency for being the best agents a writer could ask for, and for your invaluable guidance since we connected. This is the start of a wonderful relationship.
Many thanks are due to so many people who support my books, especially in the fabulous author community, and you know who you are. What a gift. I’d like to say a special thank you to a few people: the real Angie Ball, Andrea Peskind Katz, Tiffany Yates Martin, Ann-Marie Nieves, Nancy Stopper, Colleen Kennedy Sturdivant, and Elizabeth Paulsen. To all the Bookstagrammers and social media fans who help spread the word: you are the best. And to all the booksellers, especially Laguna Beach Books, my local independent bookstore, thank you.
To my friends and family, your love and encouragement mean the world to me. A special thanks to Harley, my partner for the last three decades: We built a company together and raised four kids together, and we’re still best friends. It wasn’t always
