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Rounding a corner, Nikki found herself in a huge living space with a wall of windows that opened to a pool area. Beyond the decking was a boardwalk that extended through a marsh to the beach, sunlight glinting off the ocean.
Ashley had landed in the kitchen, where she was picking up a shaggy-haired boy of about three who had toppled off a kitchen chair. “You’re all right,” she told the boy, while righting the chair with one hand and propping him onto her hip with the other. On the tile beneath the table, a ceramic bowl had cracked, a puddle of milk and soggy Cheerios spreading over the tile; a cocker spaniel hurriedly lapping up the mess.
“Cleo, stop that! Ick!”
Nikki bent down and retrieved the bowl before it splintered.
Ashley ranted, “I can’t believe this! And of course Valentina has the week off because of the damned storm. And my blog—I haven’t been able to even log on! Shit!” She stomped a bare foot in frustration, then took a deep breath and said to her son, “You didn’t hear that, honey. Mommy didn’t really say a naughty word.”
“Valentina?” Nikki asked.
“Yes, the maid and nursemaid, the woman who usually works for us and . . . oh, what does it matter?”
As Zeke reduced his wails to sniffling, Ashley snagged a handful of paper towels from a dispenser near the sink, then bent down and, still holding the child, swabbed up the mess as she shooed the dog out of the way.
Nikki set the bowl on the counter next to the sink, where a pile of dishes overflowed.
A little girl appeared in the archway. “What happened?” she asked, then smiled. “I get it. Zeke made a mess,” she said, obviously delighted, her eyes bright at the prospect of Zeke getting into trouble.
“It was an accident,” Ashley clipped out.
“Ack-ident,” the boy repeated, and gave his sister a churlish stare. She narrowed her eyes in a perfect imitation of her mother. “He has a lot of those.”
Ashley set the boy on the floor and tossed the wet paper towels in a garbage can under the sink. “Kelsey, take your brother to the playroom for a minute, would you?”
“Why?” Kelsey asked.
“Just do it,” Ashley ordered, and though Kelsey obviously wanted to argue, she threw her mother a just-remember-I’m-the-victim-here look instead before flouncing out.
“Always a battle,” Ashley said, and wiped the floor again, this time with a wet paper towel. “You have kids?”
Nikki shook her head despite the stab of pain in her heart. “Not yet.”
“Well, I suggest you think twice about it.” She let out a long breath. “It’s a lot of work and it just doesn’t get any easier.” Then, as if hearing herself, added quickly, “But, of course I wouldn’t change anything. I love them both beyond words.”
“Of course.”
“So, now I know you’re here about the Duval girls and what you think I know about their disappearance.”
“It’s more than that, it’s murder now.”
“I know. I heard that.” She glanced at the doorway where the kids had disappeared and lowered her voice. “It’s all disturbing. Really disturbing. And I don’t want to come off as a heartless bitch or anything, but I don’t know anything more than I’ve already said. I already talked to the police about it. On the phone and in person. I don’t have anything else to add. I just wish . . . I just wish this disaster would end!”
“I’m not with the police.”
“I know, I know. But I can’t tell you anything else. I don’t know anything else.” And then something clicked in her brain, her expression changed and her eyes thinned. “Wait a sec. I know you.” She pointed at Nikki. “You’re that reporter who nearly drowned the other day out there where they found the bodies. You write those crime books. Is that what this is all about? A book?” Her lips twisted downward in contempt.
“I’m just trying to find out what happened.”
“For a book?”
“For an article.” What did it matter?
“And you’re married to that cop who was here.” Her expression turned dark. “What is this?”
“You said you were with Owen Duval that night.”
“Yes! God, how many times do I have to say it?” She rolled her eyes as her daughter appeared in the doorway.
