Such a Beautiful Family: A Thriller(62)

“Bad news?”

“No,” she said as she slipped her phone back into her pocket.

Tired of cowering to Jane, Nora met her gaze head-on. “We’ve been dealing with vandalism at the Sacramento house—big red letters drawn on the wall, meant to look like blood.”

“Just random letters?”

“No. Not random at all. The letters spelled out: NORA HARMON IS A KILLER.” But you know that, don’t you? You know everything about me.

Jane put a hand to her mouth as if she were shocked by it all.

Nora watched her closely, hyperaware of every nuance in expression and body: unfaltering gaze, tense mouth, shallow voice, and subtle rise of shoulders. No question, Jane was a liar. But was that really the reason Nora didn’t feel comfortable having her stay?

Nora thought about her talk with David, a man she’d been married to for seventeen years, a man she loved and trusted. He believed there was a chance her feelings about Jane had nothing to do with Jane and everything to do with Nora. More than once, David had suggested she might be paranoid because of stress. She couldn’t blame him for his assessment. Since meeting Jane, Nora had felt so many unfamiliar emotions, including jealousy. No doubt, Jane’s presence brought out the worst in her. But then she thought of Rhonda, a stranger she’d met in Paris, suggesting that Jane was dangerous. And what about Heather Mahoney, a woman who worked side by side with Jane, a woman who had felt the need to warn Nora about Jane.

Nora had quit her job and moved to a remote area miles away. If that wasn’t enough of a hint . . . And yet here she was, dressed to the hilt, claiming Richard, a man who fawned over her and clearly adored her, had broken off their engagement.

It didn’t make sense.

“You seem stressed,” Jane said.

Nora studied Jane for a minute and saw that every bit of sadness she’d put on display minutes ago was gone. “I am stressed. My dad’s dementia is worse than ever. My house in Sacramento was vandalized. And I’m pretty sure I’m being followed by a man in a dark sedan.”

“Oh no. Is Dale still on your trail?”

“What?” Nora asked. “Who’s Dale?”

Jane closed the distance between them. “Dale Zusi is a private detective. I hired him six months ago to find out more about you.”

Nora was horrified. “Why?”

“It’s standard procedure, really. I just wanted him to vet any candidates I was considering . . . you know . . . fact-check résumés . . . that kind of thing.”

“But we had never met before, and I had never shown interest in working for your company. I never gave you a résumé.”

Jane’s face paled.

She’d obviously been caught in a lie. Although Nora was relieved to know that the man in the suit was a private detective, she found herself thinking about Heather’s warning. Clearly Jane had targeted Nora. “I stopped by the office the other day to get some things I left behind, and I talked with Heather.”

“Why didn’t you come to my office to say hello? We could have gone to lunch.”

“You weren’t there. Heather said you hired me because we had ‘unfinished business.’”

“That’s strange. I never said any such thing.”

“Why would she make that up?”

“I never know what she’s talking about most of the time.” Jane pulled a face. “She’s not the brightest crayon in the box.”

Nora kept her gaze on Jane. “Heather was never pregnant.”

“Why would she lie about such a thing?” Jane asked.

“Was she also lying about buying one round-trip ticket to Europe instead of two?”

“Afraid so. Listen, Nora. Heather was with me from day one. She wanted to try her hand at sales, but I told her I wanted the best. She was obviously jealous of you.”

Nora wasn’t buying it. The lies slipped so easily from Jane’s mouth.

“I think your cocoa is burning.”

Nora hadn’t realized she’d stopped stirring. Smoke billowed from the pan on the stove. She slid the pot off the burner, turned the knob to “Off,” and then grabbed a dish towel and began waving it through the air.

Despite her efforts, the fire alarm sounded.

Suddenly the kitchen was filled with people, including Trevor and the dog, everyone opening windows and doors, the cold sweeping in faster than the smoke traveled out. Tank followed Trevor around, his eyes round, his body shivering. He didn’t like all the commotion, and he started to bark.

Jane covered her ears, her face scrunched, her brow furrowed.

The high-pitched alarm hadn’t fazed her, but Tank’s bark set her off, making her look incensed, as if Tank had no business being inside the house. The notion pissed Nora off. She’d gone out of her way to keep Tank away from Jane. But no longer.



Nora’s vision of her evening had been obliterated the moment she saw Mom and Jane standing at the door. There would be no puzzles or charades. No hot cocoa by the roaring fire. Instead, David and Trevor brought in the tree, and they all pitched in with the lights and ornaments. The smell of burned cocoa had been replaced with the scent of pine and cinnamon. The house was eventually warmed by the fire, and Tank rolled himself into a ball by the hearth. Even Jane seemed to be enjoying herself, delighted when Hailey made a big deal about her being able to reach some of the taller branches. “Jingle Bells” played on the speakers David had set up the first day they moved in.