Page 49 of What the Wife Knew

Mom squeezed his arm one last time before breaking contact. “It was lovely to meet you. Daniel, is it?”

“Call me Dan. And stop by any time, Lizzy.”

She threw him a wink as he walked out the office door.

I had to hand it to her. The way she weaponized that charm was a thing to behold. I’d had a front row seat to this type of performance my whole life. Repetition didn’t make the act any less astonishing. “Flirting with that guy? Really?”

She snorted. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“I need this job, Mom.”

“You have a job. Richmond Dougherty. It’s past time you made contact.”

The same name I’d heard for years. Mom’s greatest prey. The golden goose she expected me to pluck. I’d done my own research on him and no thank you.

“Why go after him now?” The real question was why, after all this time, couldn’t she let this go?

“You know why.”

To get her revenge on Richmond. I was the pawn in her vengeance game.

“I asked you to step up years ago and instead of talking to me and working on a plan, you ran off,” she said.

As fast as I could but clearly not as far as I needed to go. “That was a hint.”

“Don’t get fresh with me.” Her sweet smile disappeared along with the lightness of her tone. “Others might appreciate your sarcasm. I don’t.”

She made me this way, but fine. I tried logic. “Richmond is a big deal. He has powerful friends and gobs of money. Getting into his circle will be close to impossible. I’d have to do surveillance for months to find a way in.”

“Which is why you should have started this before his reputation became so entrenched.” She toyed with the nameplate on my desk then sighed. “There’s nothing we can do about your choices now. The delay probably is better anyway because he won’t see you coming.”

She ignored the fact Richmond reached hero status long ago and held on to that crown with a clenching grasp. “He might be untouchable.”

“I didn’t gift you that face and that body for you to talk like that.”

That was as close as she’d ever come to a compliment. Of course, it was more of a reflection of her than a statement about me.

“You’re going to make me say it.” She walked around to my side of the desk and leaned against it. Closed the space between us. “You owe me.”

Her favorite phrase. The source of her conditional love. She didn’t care what her martyrdom cost me. Her only goal was to get her way. “Mom, please don’t do this.”

“I sacrificed my body and my youth to bring you into this world. I had opportunities and a life, and I gave up both for you.” She kept sighing and shaking her head. Put on her full I’m-so-disappointed routine. “And how did you pay me back?”

“I’m sorry I was born.” That was the only thing I hadn’t apologized for before now.

“I cleaned up your mess because I wanted to. It was my job. But the risk is still out there. Anyone could figure out what you did, and what I had to do to save you. Think about what your life would turn into then.”

My mind flashed to the blood and the knife. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“You had a choice that day.”

When I closed my eyes I could see his body on the kitchen floor. “I was ten and terrified.”

“And I stood up for you. At great loss to me, I might add. We had to move. I had to find another apartment, another school for you, another job. All because you overreacted.”

The words hovered between us like a snarling beast. But shewasn’t totally wrong. Seventeen years ago, for a very brief period, she stepped up. She forfeited the life she’d picked for herself. She literally covered up a murder for me.

I acted in self-defense but Mom never bought that reality. Her first husband hadn’t wanted kids. He’d made that clear. He hinted that it would be fine if she sent me somewhere or if I disappeared forever. I knew he wasn’t kidding.

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