Page 24 of One of Us Is Guilty

Volcanoes don’t suddenly erupt. There are warning signs – harmonic tremors, deformations in the surrounding earth, rising magma, temperature changes and a strong odor of sulfur. He thought for a moment she hadn’t heard him, but he couldn’t hear the faucet running, or the high drone from a hairdryer, so he guessed that she heard him just fine.

‘By thing, you mean our anniversary party?’ she said, from the bathroom.

Shit.

‘I’m going to the house this morning to check out the new décor. Let me know,’ she said.

He heard her heels first, on the inch-thick polished mahoganyflooring that she’d had done last year. Amazing – how he could tell his wife’s mood by the sound of her heels on the floor.

She swished into the bedroom, dressed in dark pants, a cream off-the-shoulder cashmere sweater with a huge collar, and a thick black leather belt with an oversized gold buckle cinched around her waist.

He was expecting some comeback.

‘My father moved heaven and earth to help Geoff set up the podcast interview. You get more ears and eyeballs on YouTube and Spotify than primetime TV these days. I can’t let my father down. You know what he’s like . . .’

She nodded, and said nothing, but she smiled at him as she left.

He thought about that smile while he finished dressing. It wasn’t a loving look. It was something else. Her eyes had been pinched, her lips tight.

That smile had been full of pity. She knew what Julian Vanderpool was like. Patrick had told her some of the stories. She knew he didn’t want to be governor, or mayor, or congressman, and he sure as shit didn’t want to work for his father, but there was no escaping him. Julian had high ambitions for his son, and Patrick could not let him down. He always did what Daddy told him.

Always.

He felt angry at her now. He didn’t want her pity. He wasn’t some schmuck. He was a Vanderpool.

As his father continuously reminded him.

Before going downstairs, he went into the bathroom, opened the cabinet above his personal sink, moved the mouthwash to one side and grabbed the gift he had hidden there.

An electric thrill quivered across his back as he put it in his pocket.

As Patrick sat in his war room, previously his dining room, he stared at the top of Molly Green’s head. Like always, she had her eyes down, pointed at her iPad screen. She flicked through the days on acalendar app, making notes on her phone of the important meetings, which were color-coded red.

‘I’ve got something for you,’ said Patrick.

She looked up, and he handed her the gift bag he’d been hiding in his bathroom cabinet.

She opened it, and her mouth gaped as wide as the lid on the box.

‘Oh my God, it’s beautiful,’ said Molly.

‘Here, let me,’ he said, and took it from the box, then laid it over her wrist and fastened the clasp. Her gorgeous eyes danced with the glare from the diamonds.

‘It’s from Seinfeld’s,’ he said.

‘Are you kidding me? It must have cost a fortune.’

‘It’s not that. I . . . I just wish it was something else.’

‘What?’

‘A diamond ring,’ he said softly, almost a whisper.

She checked the door, listened for a moment, then leaned over and kissed him.

‘I need you to sign off on these campaign ads,’ said Heidi before she strode into the room.

They broke apart, both of them grinning like teens in love.