Page 97 of What the Wife Knew

Kathryn didn’t react to Wyatt’s distress. She stalked toward me again, slower but equally determined. My muscles moved without any conscious signal from my brain. This time I raised the bat, ready to swing.

“Kathryn, stop.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

Her

Present Day

Elias stood in the doorway. Another emergency visit. This time I welcomed it. At the sight of his grim expression and obvious fury the tension snapping across my nerves eased. If he was here, the police would be close behind. But I remained coiled, ready to spring.

A wail of pain cut through the uneasiness. Across the room, Wyatt cradled his arm. Thin ribbons of blood ran down to his hand then dripped onto the floor. The horror of what that could mean hit me.

“What happened?” I’d watched his mother’s slow-motion wreck but missed this.

“Wyatt!” Kathryn ran to him.

“You stabbed me.” Wyatt clamped his hand over the wound, but blood seeped through his fingers and his body listed to one side.

That shocked, almost breathless voice would haunt my nightmares. Wyatt took his hand away for a second and I regretted looking at his arm. A deep puncture, not a superficial cut or a light prick. Kathryn had nailed him.

“I didn’t mean... it was her.” The venom returned to Kathryn’s voice. She pointed the scissors at me again. “Look what you made me do.”

“Stop this.” Elias stepped in front of me without an ounce of self-preservation. He held up both hands to confront one of the town’s most prominent members as she careened into disaster. “Put the scissors down. Now.”

Kathryn shook her head. “You don’t understand what she did.”

What was wrong with her? “Your son needs a hospital. My mom is injured.”

Worrying about Mom broke my concentration more than once during the last half hour. The extent of her injuries could be severe. The slow drip of lies and years of deceit should have stomped out my ability to care. I craved the ability to be forever detached, or at least ambivalent. Despite every effort I failed.

I both hated her and loved her. The former clear with a list of reasons and explanations. The latter murky as it repeatedly knocked me down.

“Portia?” Elias called out. “Go outside and wait for the police.”

“She’s here?” I couldn’t see her, but I heard footsteps behind me, getting too close to her mother’s derailing. “Do it now, Portia.”

My shout sent her running in the opposite direction. I didn’t regret scaring her or pissing her off. I would have done anything to keep her out of the room. There was no way for her to walk into this scene and leave it unscathed. After this day she’d have enough horrible memories to wrestle with and digest without this one.

I owed her. Portia had called Wyatt and Elias and maybe the police. She’d subjected her relationship with her mom to a test it might not pass.

With one Dougherty child out of the fray, my attention switched to the other. Blood seeped out from under Wyatt’s hand. Splashes landed on his shirt. On the floor.

Elias held his hand out to Wyatt. “Come toward me.”

Kathryn grabbed her son’s uninjured arm, stopping him. Pulling him close and clinging to him as he winced and struggled through the pain to push her away.

“Mom, please.” Wyatt’s voice sounded strained to the point of breaking.

“Don’t you understand what needs to happen here?” Kathryn’s unblinking eyes provided a window into the wild thoughts filling her mind. Somehow her voice stayed even. “We can still resolve this, put everything back together, but we have to move now.”

The situation continued to devolve. She clearly had a plan in her head and intended for everyone in the room to jump to her command. Worse, she hadn’t dropped the scissors.

Dread settled in my stomach and refused to leave. This mess could only have an unhappy ending. I threw Wyatt the blanket hanging over the back of one of the chairs. “Wrap it around your arm and keep it lifted.”

That was the full extent of my first aid knowledge. The ambulance better show up soon.

Elias took a step in Kathryn’s direction. “This is over. Give me the scissors.”

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