Page 42 of What the Wife Knew

Rather than rushing in, I tried wading in. “What if I told you everything you know about Richmond is a lie?”

“Be more specific.”

Fucking lawyers. “Okay. What if I told you the whole story about Richmond stopping the shooting at his high school when he was seventeen was fake?”

Elias stared at me for a few tense seconds in silence. “I’d remind you that we know what happened that day. There’s school security video. A redacted version ran for years on true crime shows and in that documentary. The footage still shows up now and then on the anniversary of the thwarted shooting.”

“What did you really see?”

“Two kids shot in a school hallway. One was an innocent bystander.”

I knew the death toll better than anyone. “Zach Bryant. Hitby a stray bullet when Richmond and his baby brother, Cooper, wrestled for the gun.”

“You’re forgetting the part where Richmond tackled Cooper and shot him to stop him from conducting a school massacre. Richmond picked the safety of the entire school over his brother.”

Elias was wrong. I hadn’t forgotten a damn thing. I remembered every second of that video. “That’s such a great hero story. It’s a shame it’s not true.”

“What?” Elias leaned in as confusion took over his tone. “How can you know that?”

I studied Richmond. Knew him. Lived with his lies. “I have evidence. Richmond married me to keep me from releasing it.”

The truth sat between us, burrowing a hole in the long-told fantasy Richmond had concocted and the public bought without question. Every word I uttered, tearing the bonds holding the lie together.

“If you do have something like—”

“I do.” I was in it now and didn’t see any reason to play coy.

Elias’s frown deepened. “If true, you could have exposed Richmond without getting near him. Why go through the sham of a wedding and all that came after?”

Because I wanted to rip Richmond’s life apart, make him feel helpless and under siege, and the best way to do that was from the inside. But, in the end, I made my choices because of my mother, her vengeance, and her inability to tell the truth. “I had my reasons.”

Elias seemed to turn the new information over in his mind, dissecting it and trying to push it aside. “Look, I’ll admit Richmond could be an asshole but—”

“You help me locate August and figure out who other than me wanted Richmond dead and I’ll tell you every sordid detail, starting with what really happened at the Dougherty house that morning twenty-seven years ago.”

That was the deal. One I never intended to offer, but I also never intended to go to jail, so it was time to adapt.

“You’re saying the entire hero story is a lie.”

“Yes.” Four people died that day. It was time people knew why. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Her

Present Day

Two days had passed since Elias promised to look into August’s whereabouts. I’d appealed to his sense of curiosity. From a subtle hint here and a stray comment there, it was clear Elias didn’t worship Richmond like so many others did. But believing Richmond would kill his own brother might be a stretch. I couldn’t blame Elias for the skepticism. The entire country suffered from a collective brainwashing about the tragedy. But I had Elias’s attention and right now that’s all I needed.

I checked my quiet cellphone. No answers yet. I’d give Elias a few more hours before I started a nonstop texting spree. We were in a race against whatever the detective might find or make up. There was little chance my panicked cleanup job wiped the bat clean of all DNA evidence. I missed something. I could feel it.

No news and a lingering sense of dread kept me at the house. I didn’t have anywhere to go anyway, but a drive or a sandwich at the diner would have been nice. I liked that place, and the detective was right. I’d been there several times. I just hadn’t been totally truthful about why.

Right now, I had to clear my head. A walk to the mailbox atthe end of the long driveway might be enough to burn off some nervous energy. Probably not, but it was worth a try.

A sunny fall day greeted me when I stepped outside. The wind blew through the trees, sending yellow and red leaves swirling to the ground. With each step, I got lost in a round-robin of overthinking, worrying, and second-guessing. Richmond’s killer. Richmond’s lies. Richmond’s antics. They pinged off each other in my mind.

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