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“Got it,” she says. “And…whoops. It looks like you snapped an extra one of my garage floor.”
“Must have been while I was looking for my ring…”
She nods, and I do that thing every liar does where they offer more detail than the situation calls for. “I can’t seem to manage even the simple things. I’m terrible at photography. I’m sure someone else took better photos.”
“Maybe” she shrugs. “But I got what I needed—so you get the benefit of the doubt.”
I manage a tight smile.
“Oh, and Sadie,” Ann says. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about…”
“Yeah?”
“There are cameras everywhere. We’re never not being watched.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Right.”
“Which has me wondering…what kind of person do you think would be stupid enough to use their own car for a hit and run?”
“I wasn’t aware they were planned,” I answer brazenly, because sometimes Ann requires this.
She smiles. “You’d be surprised.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SADIE
Ann had to step out to take a call. Meanwhile, I’ve been pacing the kitchen, hoping my impetuousness hasn’t ruined everything. “Sit,” she demands when she returns. She places a cup of coffee in front of me. “I hope it’s not gotten too cold. You’ll let me know?”
I cup my hands around the mug, warming them. The coffee is perfect. Smells that way. Tastes that way. Not that I’d expected any less. I make sure to tell her as much. My nervousness makes me chatty, and I ask if everything went okay with the call.
She shrugs “You can never really be sure.” She seems distracted.
“It must be difficult.”
“Not really.” I watch as she crosses the kitchen. She’s very attractive when she’s focused. Actually, she’s always attractive. Just more so then. “Well—not in the way that most people think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” she stalls, and it’s clear she’s choosing her words carefully. “Sometimes my voice is the last they’ll ever hear.”
“That’s sad,” I say, sipping my coffee.
“Is it?”
“Well—”
“I was sorry to hear about what happened with your husband.”
The abrupt manner in which she cuts straight to the bone causes me to choke on her perfect coffee. In her perfect home.
Black liquid spews across her white marble countertop. Maybe it’s nerves on account of what just happened in the garage. Maybe it’s something else entirely, but a lump has formed in my throat, making it impossible to swallow. I place the cup on the bar and make a start for the paper towel holder across the counter.
Ann waves me off. “Let me.”
I settle in my seat as she cleans up after me. It makes me think of my mother.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like.”
