Page 51 of What the Wife Knew

Ping.

She frowned. “What’s that noise?”

My cell. I’d specifically given the security app a specialringtone because I couldn’t afford to ignore it. Not when it seemed to chime a warning every five seconds.

“You’ll quickly figure out that this house has a constant stream of unwanted visitors.” I was including her in that group.

“You should install a moat.”

She was full of good ideas this morning. “Tempting.”

“Who thinks it’s acceptable to stop by without an invitation?” She grabbed the cell out of my hand. “Oh, interesting. It’s that handsome lawyer friend of yours.”

I grabbed the phone back. “No. He’s off-limits.”

We’d been down this road many times. I didn’t care who she flirted with or how, or who she slept with or even married, but she had to pick from a pool of men I didn’t know. Like it or not, I knew Elias.

She threw me her patentedwhat’s wrong with youlook. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I need him to stay focused on keeping me out of prison.”

“He’s perfectly capable of defending you while spending money on me.” She let out what had to be a fake gasp. “Unless you’re thinking that the two of you might get together and—”

“He’s old enough to be my dad.” An image of Mom and Elias kissing popped into my head. I blinked it out. “Stay away from him. I mean it.”

Elias walked in the back door and stepped into the kitchen. “Ladies.”

A smile lit up Mom’s face. “It’s good to see you again, Elias.”

Elias didn’t appear to notice Mom’s rabid attention or the mother-daughter quibbling. He sat down at the table and set his cell in front of him. “I wanted to check on you both.”

I didn’t buy it. Mom was pretty and tempting and eager. Eliaswas a man with a wallet. This could go sideways fast. “I thought you were done doing house calls.”

“Give the man some air, Addison.” Mom put a hand on Elias’s arm. “Would you like her to make you a latte? They’re really quite good.”

Time to put the brakes on this mess. “What’s with the visit?”

Mom glared over my indelicate delivery, but Elias took the tone in stride. “I intended to talk about cellphone tracking, but we have a more pressing issue.”

Days without a new problem or the threat of arrest? Zero. “I hate to ask.”

“Someone leaked the information about your trip to the police station.” He hesitated. If he was going for maximum dramatic impact he achieved it. “A story, citing confidential sources, will link your questioning to the change in Richmond’s manner of death. The official finding is a basilar skull fracture due to blunt force trauma.”

“That’s a lot.” And none of it sounded good for me.

“In other words, homicide. Specifics about a bat being the murder weapon won’t appear. The police will hold that back to disclose at some later date, likely after their investigation is completed.”

Kathryn. The detective. Lurking, well-hidden journalists in the police parking lot. One of those or a combination of them tattled on me. I’d bet Richmond’s trust fund on it. “I guess it’s a good thing I never leave the house these days.”

“Absolutely not.” Mom’s coffee mug clanked against the table as she set it down. “That’s not acceptable. She has an alibi.”

“We all know that, including Detective Sessions. But it’s clear he believes Addison killed Richmond with someone else’s help.”

There was no need to sugarcoat it. “He means you, Mom.”

“Ridiculous. Why would I kill the wealthy doctor my daughter married? Mothers dream of that sort of lucrative matchmaking.”

Dissecting that comment would get messy, so I skipped ahead. “Okay, what does this press attention mean for me?”

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