Page 46 of One Last Goodbye

I glare into the phone. Sean can’t see me, of course, but I suppose my silence communicates my disapproval of his crude joke because after a moment, he says, “Sorry. That wasn’t funny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I agree. “And I’m not asking. Get to Geneva, and text me as soon as you land.”

“I think you and I need to have a discussion about the difference between a contractor and an employee,” he grumbles.

“So I’ll expect you on the next flight?” I reply.

“Yes, you’ll see me soon,” he says irritably. “Goodbye.”

He hangs up, and I sigh in exasperation. Sean is frustrating, but he’s useful at least. Maybe he can get the evidence I need to go to the police and put an end to this nonsense before it’s too late.

I am pulled from my thoughts by shouting from downstairs. One of the voices is Catherine’s. The other’s is high and shrill and carries a South London accent.

Veronica Baines.

I rush to the door and down the hallway to the living room. I feel a touch of embarrassment when I remember that I’m still in my nightgown, but I’m not about to miss whatever event is happening between my two primary suspects. I feel a bit of validation when I arrive to see Sophie in her own nightgown watching the argument.

And what an argument it is. The women haven’t come to blows yet, but they’re not far from it.

Veronica stands in front of Catherine, jamming her finger up into the taller woman’s face and hissing, “I loved him more than you ever did!”

Ah, the classic cry of the other woman.

“Oh yes, you loved him,” Catherine sneers. She stands in front of Veronica with her arms crossed. “Tell me, which did you love most, his pocketbook or his yacht?”

Veronica laughs. “He had far more impressive assets than that, let me tell you.”

“How limited your experience is if you thinkFrederick’sassets were impressive.”

“Oh yeah? Not as big as Hugo?”

“Not nearly. Hey, maybe you should fuck him too.” She grins. “Then you can stay home from his funeral too.”

Sophie gasps. I try not to jump to conclusions after my mistake with Olivia, but I can’t help but wonder if I’ve just heard Catherine obliquely confess to her husband’s murder.

Veronica’s lower lip trembles. “I had as much right to be at his memorial as you did.”

“How the hell can you possibly believe that?” Catherine challenges. “You’re his side piece. I’m his wife. I’m the mother of his children.”

“Yeah, his children who hated him!”

That’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Catherine draws her hand back and slaps Veronica hard. I was surprised by my own strength when I slapped Eleanor Strauss, but the blow Catherine lands on Veronica is queenly. The younger woman staggers backwards, breath hitching. I believe she’s on the verge of losing consciousness, but she gathers herself and launches at Catherine in a blind rage.

Catherine is ready for the attack, though. She sidesteps Veronica’s slashing claws and grabs her around her shoulders. With a shriek, she tosses Veronica to the floor.

“Catherine!” a male voice shouts.

A moment later, Hugo rushes down the stairs. Catherine, sensing that she’s about to be restrained, steps forward and kicks Veronica viciously in the ribs. The younger woman cries out and drops back to the ground.

Hugo grabs Catherine then and pulls her away. Veronica gets to her feet, breathing shakily. The fight has gone out of her, as tends to happen when one has been soundly beaten.

Thomas comes into the room and goes to Veronica’s side. Catherine points at her and tells Thomas, “Get this bitch out of my house!”

“Mom?”

I look to the head of the stairs and see Olivia and Ethan standing on the landing. Ethan rubs sleep from his eyes, but Olivia is watching everything that’s happening.

“What’s going on?” she adds.

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