One of Us Is Dead(51)

“Are you ready for your party?” I asked with a gleaming smile.

The help refilled each of our glasses, while Dean and I took our seats in our throne-like purple chairs beside one another. He held my hand and we sat as one, a queen and her king. I smiled at him. He smiled back, pleased with me this evening. Dean was so dead set on maintaining our relationship with Bryce and whomever he happened to be married to. Crystal would be my new BFF, whether she liked it or not.

“Not quite. Still have some finishing touches, and we’re having a company come in and decorate the whole place for Halloween this next week,” she explained. “It’s going to be rather on theme. Skeletons, spiderwebs, chandeliers, and everything red and black: curtains, carpet, roses. We’re even having the pool dyed red for the night.” Her face lit up as she spoke about it, like a child would in a toy store. Then again, Crystal was a child. I smiled and took another sip of my champagne.

“That sounds lavish. We can’t wait to see it.” I pursed my lips together.

Dean grazed his thumb over my hand affectionately.

“It was Crystal’s vision,” Bryce said proudly. He put his hand on her leg and patted it lovingly.

She beamed at him. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Or his checkbook,” I coughed.

Crystal’s face scrunched up as she looked at me. She didn’t hear what I said, but her brain was still trying to put it together. Dean grumbled under his breath.

“Excuse me . . . I swallowed wrong.” I pretended to clear my throat. Sometimes, I just couldn’t help myself.

“Let’s not forget about the fireworks show,” Bryce said.

“Save something for the party,” Crystal teased.

“Wow. This is going to be the party of the year from the sound of it,” Dean said, pumping Bryce up.

“Gala night usually is, but we all know how that went.” Bryce gave a half smile.

Crystal shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The help once again refilled our glasses. I sat up taller.

“You don’t have to remind me. Shannon made such a fool of herself that night. How could anyone forget? Plus, the video.” I let out a laugh.

“What video?” Bryce asked.

Shit. Crystal gave me an odd look.

“And then she proposed to you,” I quickly added, but I was sure it was too late. Damn it. Crystal’s little brain was putting things together. She stared at me as she brought the champagne flute to her lips.

Bryce burst into laughter, and Dean did too.

“Can we change the subject?” Crystal huffed. It was less of a question and more of a demand. Bryce whispered something into her ear. I couldn’t hear what he had said, but he did change the subject, so I can only assume it was an apology of some sort. Why was Crystal loyal to Shannon? Why did she care? Perhaps she just felt guilty. What Crystal did to Shannon was the worst thing you could do to an elite housewife. Actually, the worst thing she could have done to Shannon was kill her. Heck, maybe now that was the only way to make things right. It would be the humane thing to do, and it would be for the best for all of us. Put Shannon out of her misery, like an old mangy dog.





42

Crystal


A woman wearing black pants, a black shirt, and an expressionless face set a plate of warm food in front of me. The steam rose, sending an intoxicating smell of meat, veggies, and white wine straight to my nose. I thanked her. She barely nodded and quickly disappeared. Olivia and Dean’s help were like ghosts, or at least treated that way. They said nothing and just moved things where they were told to move them. It was clear that’s how Olivia liked it. Bryce and I had a cleaning lady, a full-time chef, a gardener, and a pool boy, but I made sure I got to know all of them on a personal level. Only Olivia would enjoy treating the living like they were already dead.

“Everything looks so delicious.” I unfolded my napkin and placed it on my lap. Olivia and Dean were seated across from Bryce and me at a decadent dining room table that could seat eighteen. I was surprised they hadn’t sat at the far-reaching ends of it. However tacky, it would have been a true power move. I assumed that’s where they sat when it was just the two of them, a mile apart from each other. I giggled to myself but quickly extinguished it by separating my lips with a glass of red wine. It went down smooth, unlike everything else this evening—the atmosphere, the opulence, the company. That damn video was mentioned again. I hadn’t seen it and I didn’t know what it was about, but now I knew Olivia had something to do with it. She always had something to do with everything, and I knew whatever it was, it was no good.

“Thank you,” Olivia said, taking a bite of her food. “Eat up.”

I nodded and picked up my knife and fork. The knife slid through the meat like butter. I could feel Olivia staring, and when I glanced up, her large eyes with rich chocolaty irises were laser-focused on me. She gave me a small smile; however, her overly injected lips made her smile look bigger than it actually was. I stabbed the fork into a piece of veal and brought it to my mouth, making eye contact with her. The meat slid off the fork with ease, and the flavors burst on my tongue, forcing me to let out a sound of delight.

“Yum, oh my God.” I swallowed.

“I told you, Crystal. Can’t you just die?” Olivia said, pleased with herself.

“You’re right about that, Olivia. This is incredible. We have to have our chef get the recipe from your chef,” Bryce said as he took several more bites.