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Sierra squeezed her hand. “Go home,” she said quietly. “Pack a bag and get out of town. I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Thanks Sierra,” Alex said, plucking her Tumi business tote from the back of her chair and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’ll probably see you Monday or Tuesday.”
Grabbing her wrist, her partner said, “Take as much time as you need. You worked your ass off on this Clinton case, and brought a huge chunk of money into the practice.”
Alex nodded. “Tell everyone goodnight and thank them for me,” she said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
She waved at their paralegals as she hurried toward the door. Exiting the restaurant, Alex took a deep breath of the crisp spring air. Another. Her stomach settled a little, and the throbbing in her head eased.
Alex closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. With any luck, she’d feel better in the morning. She’d get up early and take off. Maybe she’d go to the American Club in Wisconsin. She’d been to a small conference there, and she’d loved everything about the place.
She drove home with the windows open, and by the time she turned onto her block in the north shore suburb of Evanston, she was feeling a little better. As she reached her house and began to turn into the driveway, she saw a dark car in front of the garage. Right in the middle. Scowling, she jerked the steering wheel straight and pulled to the curb. Jerry had a friend over. Why hadn’t Jerry told his buddy to park on his side of the driveway?
Because Jerry wouldn’t have thought of it. It wouldn’t have occurred to him to make sure she could get into the garage.
Sighing, she rested her head against the back of the seat for a long moment. Jerry had been short-tempered lately. Edgy. Distracted. She’d ignored him to focus on the trial, but Sierra hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. It was time to end this sham of a marriage.
She’d spend this trip planning. Looking for another place to live. Transferring her money into new accounts, just in case Jerry’d gotten hold of her account information. When she got home from Wisconsin, she’d tell Jerry they were over.
She grabbed her tote and slid out of the car, resisting the impulse to slam the door. Scowled at the garage, which didn’t have a keypad opener because Jerry didn’t think they were secure. As she walked toward the garage’s side door, she fumbled for the key she seldom used. Shoving it into the lock, she walked through the garage and opened the door to the mudroom.
After she toed off her stilettos, she dumped her business tote in her office, then padded through the kitchen toward the staircase. A hum of male voices came from the front of the house. Jerry and his visitor were in his office. Not a buddy, then. A meeting of some sort.
She’d just reached the stairs when the unknown man said in a soft, New Orleans accent, “How do you want it to happen?”
The question was so odd that Alex paused, her foot on the bottom stair.
Jerry asked, “What do you mean?”
Southern Accent said, “We can go two ways with this. I can make it an accident. Or it can be a ‘do not fuck with me’ statement that sends a message. You know? Warning people who might want to screw you over to think twice.”
Jerry said immediately, “It’s gotta look like an accident. I took out a life insurance policy on her. A huge one. If her death is at all suspicious, the insurance company won’t pay while they investigate. And I need that money now. I’ve got some guys on my ass.”
Alex slapped her hand over her mouth to hold in the gasp. Had she really heard what she thought she’d heard? Was Jerry hiring someone to kill her?
After he’d taken out a huge insurance policy on her?
Her heart pounding, her breath tight in her chest, Alex gripped the railing so tightly her fingers ached. Frozen in place, she listened as Southern Accent said, “Got it. An accident it is. Simple, easy, no blowback on you.”
“Good,” Jerry said. “That’s good.”
“Why have her killed?” Southern Accent asked. He sounded genuinely curious. “Just get a divorce and move on.”
“I made a mistake,” Jerry said, his voice wobbling. Jerry was afraid. “Took some money I shouldn’t have touched. I was cleaning it for some… associates and I skimmed a little off the top every week. I’m pretty sure they figured it out, because they cut the amount they gave me in half. These are not nice people, and I need to disappear. Can’t do it without that insurance money.”
“She’s your wife. Why not explain the situation and tell her you need to pay it?” Southern Accent asked, as if they were talking about buying a car instead of murder. “Get those guys off your ass, then worry about the money.”
Jerry snorted. “You don’t know what she’s like. If she knew what I’d done, she’d kick my ass, then kick me out of the house. She’d make sure her bitch partner knew all about it. Then she’d go to the police. No. She’s gotta die.”
“So a big life insurance policy. You’ve been planning this for a while, then,” Southern Accent said, no censure or shock in his voice.
“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while, but I have to move up the schedule.”
“How long have you been married?” Southern Accent asked.
“Seven years. We got married right after she graduated law school. She’s smart as hell. I figured she’d make a shitload of money, and pretty quickly.”
Hurt bubbled up inside Alex, followed by rage. He’d married her because he wanted a meal ticket.
