“Because he’s got us all fooled into thinking he’s a good man. I’ve worked on his campaign for a year. Not once did he flinch as he looked into the eyes of the mother whose daughter he killed.”
“But what if we’re wrong?”
She looked up at me. “We’re not wrong. I feel it in my gut.”
“He had Thea killed.”
Mom reached for my hand. “I’m scared, honey. What if he comes after you?”
“I’ll go to Ford and tell him what we think. His team can protect us.”
“From someone as powerful as Thom Richards? I have my doubts,” Mom said.
I looked out the window. Were we vulnerable at this very moment? No, not yet. He didn’t know that we suspected him. I still had a chance to trap him into telling me the truth. “Screw it, Mom. I’m not going to hide away in here. I’m going to that fundraiser. I want to look him in the eye when I tell him I know what he did.”
“Carlie, no. Just stay away from him. Go to Ford.”
For the first time since I’d lied about sneaking romances up to my room, I lied to my mother. “You’re right, Mom. But he doesn’t know we suspect him. I’ll keep it that way.” I patted her hand.
The bell rang overhead as I walked into the nicest dress shop in town. An attractive woman around my age dressed impeccably greeted me as the door closed behind me. “I’m the Judy in Judy’s Threads.” She smiled at me at the same time she was searching my face as if she knew me. “Are you Carlie Webster?”
“I am. Do we know each other?”
“You probably don’t remember me. I was a few years behind you in school. Judy Dierks.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. Please don’t take it personally. I have trouble recalling much of the last years of high school.”
“Understandable, considering what your family went through.”
I decided to leave that alone and get right to the point of my visit. “I’m attending the fundraiser for Thom Richards this evening. I know it’s short notice, but I hoped you might have an appropriate dress for the occasion?”
She nodded. “Yes, yes, I’ve had several customers come in for the very same fundraiser. As a matter of fact, I had a feeling Richards would be fundraising in his hometown and bought more than my usual inventory of dresses just in case. I don’t have much left, but I do have a few I think would do nicely with your creamy complexion and fair hair.”
“I’m a six or an eight, depending on the brand,” I said.
She gave me an indulgent smile. “I wouldn’t be worth my salt if I didn’t know your size by looking at you.”
“Do you think a cocktail dress will be fancy enough?”
“For the country club patio in the summer? Yes. You’ll want something light but with a pashmina for when the evening cools.”
I thought of my classic black cocktail dress that was currently hanging in the closet of my Seattle home. I’d worn it to several business events when I’d been married. If only I’d thought to bring it. I hated to spend money on a dress I might never wear again.
However, I was on a mission tonight. One in which I would inspect every move Thom Richards made. If possible, I was going to get him alone and ask him questions, see if I could see any cracks in his armor. I just needed something to go to Ford with.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Judy said. “You don’t want a dress you can only wear once. Don’t worry, I have several classics that you could wear to weddings or graduations.”
I smiled. “You’re good at your job. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
She smiled back at me, clearly pleased by my compliment. “I do my best. Now let’s get you settled in my best dressing room. Get undressed and I’ll bring them to you. What kind of bra do you have on?”
“The normal kind?”
“I’ll bring you a strapless one to use while you’re trying these on.”
“I’m a thirty-four C.”
“I know.”
“Right.” I laughed and then docilely obeyed her instructions, stripping down to my bra and panties in the large dressing room. With mirrors covering three walls, there was no escaping my reflection. The usual heinous glow of fluorescent lighting revealed every dimple and stretch mark on my middle-aged body.
I hadn’t been in a dressing room in years. After my ex-husband’s confession, I’d been filled with self-doubt and loathing. Plagued with insecurity, I hadn’t wanted to look at myself in the mirror. Many nights I’d lain awake wondering if I’d been this or that or the other, would he have had the need to hire prostitutes? It was only after a year of therapy that I had been able to understand that his actions had little to do with me and mostly all to do with his addiction to risky behavior. His tolerance for risk had been both his triumph and demise. The same personality that had chanced it all for a start-up in the technology sector had also been responsible for his interest in dangerous sex.
Judy called out from outside the dressing room door. “I have three for you. Hopefully one of them will work, because I don’t have much else in your size.”
I opened the door and
