Page 52 of The Better Sister

I could hear the whir of the “whisper-quiet” dishwasher from the kitchen. “What happened that night in the pool with Ethan, Nicky?”

She shook her head. “It was the worst night of my life, and I don’t remember any of it.”

As promised, I managed to wake up and put on my trial face, despite all the wine. When I opened the pantry door to grab some bread for avocado toast, a wild, high-pitched cackle pierced the silence. The battery-activated novelty vampire shook from the overhead light, mocking my gullibility.

Nicky was smirking when she joined me a few minutes later, but the tone of her voice was serious. “Hey, I thought you might want to see this. Jake is quoted. And it’s about that company you said Adam kept mentioning.”

She handed me her iPad. It was open to a short article in the business section of theNew York Times. As if reading my mind, Nicky said, “I read everything. One of the upsides of insomnia and not being a pharmaceutical garbage can anymore.”

Three days earlier, according to the article, “the Gentry Group, a publicly traded powerhouse in the energy, health-care, and industry sectors, updated its SEC filings to disclose that the London-based company had reserved 400 million pounds for a potential settlement with the DOJ and SEC after receiving notice that certain conduct in countries outside the United States might violate the Federal Corrupt Practices Act or other antibribery laws.”

There was a quote from Rives & Braddock attorney Jake Summer: “The Gentry Group is conducting an internal investigation and also plans to cooperate with all investigative agencies. It updated its financial reports in the interest of complete transparency but are confident that any irregularities will be limited in scale and scope in relation to the substantial business operations it oversees globally.”

Nowhere in the article did it mention the name Adam Macintosh, his connection to the Gentry Group, or the fact that he had been murdered six months earlier.

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Word had gotten out that I was expected to testify that day. While the number of cameras in front of the courthouse had dropped over the course of the trial to one or two on an average day, we were greeted by a thick flock of media when we pulled to the curb in front of the squat concrete building.

I was preparing myself mentally to push my way through the crowd as they yelled out questions when I felt the car suddenly accelerate again. In the driver’s seat, Nicky was already on her cell phone. I heard her side of the conversation only, first reporting the crowd outside, and then a series ofyeahs anduh-huhs.

“Olivia said she’ll have some deputies meet us at a back entrance.”

I nodded, still feeling rattled by the sight of the press frenzy. “Well done.”

“See, you’re not the only Taylor sister who can take care of business,” she said with a small smile.

Look at me.As Nunzio asked question after question, all I could think wasLook at me, Ethan. Why aren’t you looking at me? The jury sees you. You come off like you’re ashamed. You look guilty.

Olivia leaned over and whispered something in Ethan’s ear. A few seconds later, his eyes lifted and locked with mine. I swallowed back a gasp before it could escape my mouth, and then asked Nunzio if he could please repeat the question.

“Is it fair to say that the success of your Them Too series of articles increased your public profile?”

I answered in the affirmative.

“How so?”

Olivia objected to the vagueness of the question, which was sustained.

“For example, do you now get stopped for autographs when you are out and about in public?”

“I have stopped going out into public whenever possible,” I said. “For reasons that are probably obvious,” I added, looking out at the reporters and miscellaneous onlookers who filled the courtroom.

“Prior to your husband’s death, however, and after the success of your Them Too series: during this time, were you asked for autographs?”

The question made him look petty, and for that I was grateful. “Maybe less than a handful of times.”

“Timemagazine listed you as one of the top hundred most influential people of the year?”

“Yes, along with some other journalists. We were part of a group chosen to highlight the power of the First Amendment.”

“In fact, you were also lauded byGlamour,Cosmo,Vanity Fair, andVogueas a trailblazer last year.”

“Not at my asking,” I clarified. “I run a much smaller rival magazine, and I’m convinced they all did it to get under my skin.”

The quiet laughter appeared to break Nunzio’s rhythm momentarily. He didn’t want me to be likable. I was going to prove him wrong. I needed this jury to love me so much that they couldn’t possibly believe that I would raise a boy who would kill his father.

“You were interviewed byNew Yorkmagazine for tips to your success?”

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