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Fern wasn’t worried about the laptop anymore, not for the moment anyway. It was the video monitors. What if Camille started pushing buttons and found a woman locked in the wine cellar? Cat would tell her that she was being held captive. Fern’s life would be over.
Fern grabbed for the key again, this time wrenching it from Maire’s hand. She waved the card over the sensor and pushed through the door. Her first sight was of Camille sitting in a chair across from Cat’s marble desk. Fern’s gaze shifted and that’s when she saw her. Cat.
Cat was sitting behind her desk, her back straight and her hands steepled beneath her chin. She had never seen her boss in this office looking anything but perfect, but now she was downright disheveled, exhausted-looking, and angry.
She had escaped the wine cellar. Somehow Cat had gotten out.
Cat turned her sly smile on Fern. “Ah, Fern, there you are. I’m so glad you could join us.”
THIRTY-NINE
THE CONFIDANTE
As shocked as Camille was at finding Cat James sitting behind the marble desk, it looked as if Fern was equally surprised.
“Cat,” Fern began, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean...” But Cat shut her up with a searing look.
“Don’t speak,” she snapped. “You didn’t think I would figure out a way to get out of the cellar? Please,” Cat sniffed. “You aren’t smart enough to outwit me. You forgot about the ceiling vent. It took me a while to loosen the screws but once I did, I was able to climb out.” Fern seemed to shrink beneath Cat’s words and retreated to a corner of the room. Samuel, Maire, and Ned stood in the doorway, speechless.
Cat turned her attention back to Camille.
The last time Camille had seen Cat was when? Two years ago? They had been in Camille’s office, sitting across from each other, much like this, but on that occasion, Cat’s husband, Jack, was with them. And it was Camille who was in control, who had the power. She was their marriage counselor. Week after week, Camille had sat in sessions with Cat and watched the way she berated and humiliated the man. The way she took absolutely zero ownership in the state of her crumbling marriage.
Cat would go on tirade after tirade until Camille cut her off and turned her attention to Jack, Cat’s husband. She told him to walk away, to get out. Camille told him that there was nothing healthy or redeemable about the relationship with his wife. Run, she told him. And Jack had. He had stood up from his chair and walked out of her office, away from Cat. Camille saw news of the divorce on X. Good, she thought. Cat James was toxic.
“Sfasciafamiglie,” Cat said. “Home-wrecker.”
The wine bottles. So that was what they were for. To label each contestant based on their crime.
“So, all this. The game, One Lucky Winner—” Camille nodded toward the bank of video screens on the wall “—was all some big charade to—what? Get back at me because you feel I betrayed you?”
“You destroyed my marriage. The minute that last session was over, Jack packed his bags and left. I never heard from him again, except through attorneys.”
“Well, this is all well and good, Cat,” Camille said, getting to her feet, “but I’m afraid I’m not your therapist any longer so I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”
“Cat James?” Ned asked and Camille froze. Ned knew her too.
“Ned Bennett,” Cat said smoothly. “Degenerare. Degenerate.”
Ned looked at Cat in confusion. Then his eyes darted to Fern. “You two quit the same day. The two of you are in this together? You wanted to come for me after all these years?”
“Please,” Cat said snidely. “There’s no way Fern could have pulled this off. Until you showed up, she thought another contestant was going to compete. She had no idea what I was doing. You are a disgusting human being, Ned,” Cat said. “You’ve been pulling this shit on women for years. You did it to me. And at the time, I thought there was nothing I could do about it, that I had no recourse. That sexual harassment and assault was just part of the job. But when I walked in on what you were doing to Fern...” Revulsion spread across Cat’s face. “I’d had enough. I knew you weren’t going to pay right then, but I thought someday someone would come forward. They never did, so I realized that it was me. I was the one who was supposed to come forward. And, Ned, today’s that day.”
“So you were behind Spin, Speak, Shoot. You loaded the gun?” Ned asked. “You had a bad day at work, what like ten years ago, and you set me up to shoot myself or someone else?” Ned shook his head. “Sounds reasonable,” he said sarcastically.
Cat laughed. “Men always think they can do whatever they want and there are no consequences. The senator is a perfect example.”
“What did he ever do to you?” Camille asked. Despite not being a fan of Crowley’s politics, she didn’t think he deserved to have his personal life splashed all over the news.
“What did the senator do to me?” Cat asked. “Well, let’s see. You may not know this, but I got my start as a journalist in D.C. I worked my ass off and found out some interesting information about the senator. Found out his side chick was none other than a young woman named Shana who just happened to be a high-end escort. I confronted him, asked him if he wanted to offer a response for the article. He did not. Two hours later, the story was killed, my notes confiscated, and I was fired and blackballed as a reporter. Turned out my editor at the paper just so happened to be a good friend of Senator Crowley’s.” Cat raised her eyebrows at Camille. “So yes, I have a bit of a grudge against the senator.”
Camille looked at Fern, who stood there, mouth agape, as if seeing her boss for the first time. She still couldn’t believe Fern was innocent in all of this. “But you sent Fern to my office months ago,” Camille said. “Had her claim to have knowledge of a series of crimes, of wrongdoings. You’re not that clever, Cat. I figured that out two challenges ago.”
“That wasn’t me,” Fern said quietly from her corner. “I told you, that wasn’t me.”
“Again, Fern is not that smart,” Cat said, as if talking to a small child. “She had no idea what I was doing.”
Camille was stunned. She was certain that Fern was Nan. How could she be so wrong?
