Page 30 of One Last Lie

No turning back now.

He nods and gives me a grateful smile. “All right. Be careful, please.”

“You be careful.”

I hear a car pull into the driveway and turn to see a flashy and expensive sports sedan come to a stop on the porch. From this distance, it’s impossible to recognize the woman who gets out of the car, but I have a feeling I know who it is.

“Keep an eye on the other two,” I say. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He looks toward the house and frowns. “Elena.”

“I’m not sure,” I say, a rather pointless lie.

“I am.” He looks at me again. “I mean it. Be careful.”

I smile and nod, then head to the house.

I hear the conversation from the porch. I step closer to the door to eavesdrop, realizing as I do that it’s risky behavior. If I’m seen, I will have no excuse for loitering on the porch while the children play outside.

As I suspect, the stranger is Elena. “It’ll be best if you leave these matters to me. The capital structure is a complicated thing, and…”

“It’s not complicated.”

That’s Cecilia. She seems tired, beleaguered, but she’s clearly not going to tolerate the condescending tone in Elena’s voice. I like that. Her voice isn’t exactly angry but she’s firm. “The capital structure denotes ownership. The venture has only common stock, no preferred stock. I’m quite capable of voting my position.”

“Jonathon’s position,” Elena says testily.

I expect that will change Cecilia’s tone. Elena corrects herself before Cecilia can respond, though. I hope it’s because of an angry look from Cecilia. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my partner. I know that’s nothing compared to what you’ve lost.”

She doesn’t sound sorry at all. She sounds rehearsed but poorly rehearsed. She memorized the lines but never thought about how to deliver them. “But the fact remains that Jonathon was qualified to make decisions for the company and…” The condescending superiority is back. I imagine her gently shrugging and gesturing in an arrogant way of helping Cecilia accept the truth.

"Whether or not you feel I'm qualified to make decisions," Cecilia says, "I am entitled to. The stock is mine, which means the votes are mine. You won't receive a proxy from me. If that's the only topic of discussion you have in mind today, then I'm pleased to say that we've been very productive and cleared up the meeting in no time at all."

“You need to be reasonable, Cecilia!” Elena says.

“I think I prefer Mrs. Ashford.”

I nearly applaud at that. I’m not so sure how wise it is for her to twist the knife, though. If Elena is Johnathan’s killer, then Cecilia’s pride and fortitude won’t save her.

“If you’re not going to be reasonable, Cecilia, then I’ll be forced to take more decisive action.”

And that’s more than I can handle. I will not tolerate a direct threat to Miss Cecilia. I take a deep breath and enter the house. I run straight into Elena, who has attempted to storm dramatically back to her car. She has a terrible scowl on her face as she looks at me. I meet her with a hard expression but say sweetly, “Oh, excuse me.”

I think her intention was to leave but now that I’m here, a reminder of the kids, she stays. She turns to Cecilia and says, “How do you think you can handle important business decisions when you have so many responsibilities here at home?”

Cecilia looks tired. I answer for her, even though it’s not my place. “Don’t worry, Miss Serrano. Mrs. Ashford never lets the affairs of the house or the business interfere with important decisions about the children.” Then I twist the knife unwisely. “Besides, I’m always here ensuring that the children—and Miss Cecilia—are cared for and watched closely.”

Elena opens her mouth to respond but processes what I’ve said before the words come out. She closes her mouth, glares at me, and then rushes past me and out of the house.

I stand there for a moment and realize I’ve painted myself into a corner. I have no reason to be here at all. “Mrs. Ashford,” I say, “I…” I’m not particularly good at lying at the moment.

“You came here to rescue me, didn’t you?” I can hear the laughter in her voice. “And now you’re trying to come up with something to say to pretend you had a different purpose.”

I can’t hide that I’m impressed with her. “Was it my tone of voice?”

“Well, you called me Mrs. Ashford again. And you held your ground against Elena. You were here to deal with her, not to tell me about the children.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, “I didn’t mean to interfere.”

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