Page 69 of What the Wife Knew

But there was one thing... “So now he believes Ididn’tkill Richmond?”

“Maybe we should give the detective a bit more credit for knowing how to do his job?” When I didn’t respond, Elias sighed and switched topics. “The important thing is you’re safe.”

Am I? I thought about Mom in the kitchen. The Dougherty kids. Whatever Kathryn might cook up next... and whatever she’d planned to do with that listening device.

Elias was a smart guy, but he was wrong about this. I’d never been free, and nothing had changed about that. My usual inclination was to run. This time I was staying until I knew the ending.

Chapter Forty-Five

Her

Present Day

The news about Ben Cullen took two more days to break in public then it was everywhere. Photos of his face. Interviews with Peter. Sympathy and sorrow for him and for his wife, who hadn’t left her bed since losing her son.

The stunned surprise that a national hero might turn out to be a doctor dud filled every comment section. The public had a habit of becoming hostile to people who accomplished too much, as if to say no one deserve unfettered acceptance. There was also a tendency to hate-jump—pile on and mix facts with fiction—when someone people believed in violated their trust. Either way, Richmond deserved the venomous shredding hopefully headed his way.

From what I could tell, Ben’s death had been all over the news back when it happened. He grew up in nearby Scarsdale, so the devastating story had ahometown boyangle. The focus quickly had shifted to become the nonstop Richmond Show because he could not resist being a self-centered piece of shit.

I sat at the kitchen counter switching between news stories that suggested Richmond may have caved to pressure and overstated his credentials. That was the term one article used.Overstated his credentials.Even while being unmasked as a liar the guy got the benefit of a soft headline.

Mom stared out the window. “There are a few news trucks still out there but most left.”

“I’d say life soon can get back to normal, but I have no idea what that means anymore.”

Mom turned to me. “It’s not normal because your work isn’t done yet.”

Here. We. Go.

The scent ofwhat have you done for me latelyfilled the air as I readied for another round of mother-daughter battle. A lecture about all she’d sacrificed for me lingered on the horizon, waiting to launch.

“This whole exercise was about exposing Richmond and ruining his reputation. Telling everyone what he did back then. Avenging the dead. Revealing that Richmond killed Zach. Then killed Cooper and their parents in cold blood.” Mom waved her hand in the air in dramatic fashion as she walked through her grievance. “I don’t care about the surgery stuff. It’s nice to see Richmond’s professional life implode, of course, but that could cause additional problems. People could come after his money.”

Money. Always money. “At least one child died thanks to Richmond’s antics.”

“That doesn’t change the fact you’re only halfway done with your job.”

It should. Any number of factors should have stopped Mom’s slow march vendetta. Forget about any pretense of her love for me because that was a huge question mark. Common sense and decency never penetrated her hard outer shell. She was guilty of omissions and outright lies. Her story shifted when she neededthe facts to fit her narrative. She dragged me into this mess, used me as bait, and expected me to go along without question or complaint.

“Richmond’s life is being dissected and analyzed. Soon that will include everything that happened on the day of the high school shooting. Once a liar, always a liar, and all that. People will question everything about him now.” At least I hoped that was true.

“Question?” She sounded appalled. “That’s not good enough. We need to strike while trust in him is at an all-time low.”

I wrapped my fingers around my coffee mug and squeezed. “Richmond has kids.”

“I don’t care about them.”

Not exactly a news flash. “Clearly.”

“Distraught wife searches house and finds evidence of lying husband’s murderous past.”Her face lit up and excitement thrummed off her as she reeled off the fictional headline. “This August person and the dead kid set you up perfectly to show Richmond as a killer. Now you need to finish it off.”

Nothing had changed with her. “Dead kid?”

Mom came over and sat on the kitchen stool next to mine. “We boxed Richmond in to minimize his ability to lie or, worse, to hire people to shut you up. The setup—that marriage—provided the means to work behind the scenes. He thought he could outsmart you with that fake wedding stunt but only ended up signing an agreement he never intended to sign. You didn’t let him win, my smart girl.”

Ah, yes. We’d entered the false flattery portion of this tired game. “He’s actually dead, Mom. I think we took everything.”

“I get that you couldn’t rush in and spill his sick secrets rightafter he died because of the potential for blowback. And it looks like you didn’t actually kill him, so being blamed would have been unfortunate.”

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