Page 57 of Dirty Liars

Up close, I could see the fine lines of strain around her eyes and mouth. Her perfect complexion couldn’t quite hide the shadows of exhaustion beneath expertly applied makeup. Despite her beauty, there was a brittleness to her, like fine crystal on the verge of shattering.

“Your security detail arrived promptly,” she said, nodding toward the plainclothes deputy at the end of the bar. “There’s another one across the street. I saw him when I arrived.” Her eyes darted to the window. “I appreciate the precaution, though I’m not sure it will matter in the end.”

A server approached, and Jack ordered coffee for both of us. I noticed Vivica’s hands trembling slightly as she lifted her martini, taking the smallest of sips before setting it back down.

“You said you feel your life is in danger,” Jack said once the server had gone. “Why?”

Vivica’s gaze swept the room before returning to us. “Because I knew this would all catch up with Theo one day,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And now that he’s gone, there aren’t many people left who know the truth.”

“About New Dawn Fellowship?” I asked.

Her eyes widened fractionally. “You’ve been thorough in your investigation.”

“We’ve found the name, but not much else,” Jack said. “What can you tell us about them?”

Vivica’s shoulders tensed, and she glanced nervously at the window again. “Not here. We’re too exposed.”

“The men watching your back are good at their jobs,” Jack assured her.

She gave a brittle laugh. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with, Sheriff.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice further. “New Dawn isn’t just some cult in the woods. They have resources, connections. People in positions you wouldn’t believe.”

“Start at the beginning,” Jack said, his voice calm but insistent. “Tell us about your marriage to Theo.”

Vivica sat back slightly, considering his request. After a moment, she seemed to make a decision.

“We were young,” she began. “Well, I was young. Twenty-two when we married. Theo was a little older, but emotionally—” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “He was charming, handsome, wealthy. The son of an ambassador. It was like a fairy tale for a girl who’d grown up in modest circumstances in Copenhagen.”

Our coffee arrived, and Jack thanked the server before turning his attention back to Vivica.

“The first two years were good,” she continued. “We split our time between London and Greece. I was modeling, and Theo was supposedly learning the family business, though he mostly partied and spent money. He was immature, restless. Drank too much. Did drugs occasionally. He was always looking for something more exciting, more meaningful than diplomatic functions and society events.”

She traced the rim of her martini glass with one perfectly manicured finger. “The next couple of years of marriage weren’t as good. He partied hard, and the drugs bothered me. And then there was another woman. It was quite public in the tabloids. I told him I wouldn’t compete, and that he could either get help or we were finished.

“He was apologetic and said he had a business trip, and when he was back we would discuss options. He flew to the United States, and he simply didn’t come home.”

“Where was he going?” Jack asked.

“Florida supposedly,” she said. “To look at a home he wanted to buy, and he was checking on a hotel his grandfather had left him to oversee. He was supposed to meet with his attorney and board members to discuss investment opportunities. He was supposed to be gone two weeks.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I got a call from his father, Nicholas, and he told me not to worry. That Theo had called him and said he’d checked into rehab in Palm Beach. I was hurt, of course, that Theo didn’t call me directly. But at the same time I was relieved he was getting help. I wanted to be patient and supportive.”

“But something changed your mind,” Jack prompted.

“About a month after he disappeared, I started noticing strange things,” she said. “My personal items moved around in the London flat. My mail opened and then resealed. Cars following me when I went out. I thought I was being paranoid at first.”

She took another tiny sip of her martini, her hand steadier now as she launched into her story. “Then I started receiving phone calls. No one would speak when I answered, but I could hear breathing on the other end. I was terrified. I wanted to talk to Theo, to tell him what was happening.”

“So you contacted the rehab center,” I said.

Vivica nodded. “He’d been gone for months by this point, and I’d seen Nicholas and Cecelia at a family gathering. I casually mentioned how proud I was of Theo to Cecelia and led her to believe I knew what facility he was staying at. She let the name of the center slip—Serenity Valley in Palm Beach. I called them, thinking I could at least leave a message for Theo.” Her expression hardened. “They had never heard of Theodore Vasilios. He had never been a patient there.”

“That’s when you filed the missing person report?” Jack asked.

“Yes. The London police took the report, but they weren’t overly concerned. A wealthy man decides to leave his wife—not exactly uncommon in their experience.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “A week after I filed the report, I received a letter from Theo. He said he was fine, that he just needed space. That he’d made a mistake when marrying me. He hadn’t been ready and had other interests he wanted to pursue.”

“Did you believe it was from him?” I asked.

“It was his handwriting,” she said. “But something about it felt…off. Still, what could I do? He was an adult who had chosen to leave. So I filed for divorce.”

“And that’s when you discovered the properties he’d given away,” Jack said.

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