Wish You Were Gone(35)

Gray turned away from the window as if noticing the food for the first time. “You really should get someone out here to demo the garage,” she said, tugging out one of the island stools. “It can’t be good for you—or the kids—to come home to that every day.”

“We haven’t used that door or the back driveway since it happened.” Emma ignored the twist in her gut and poured her friends tall glasses of iced tea, the cubes of ice clicking as the cups were filled. “It’s sort of out of sight, out of mind. But I’ll deal with it soon.”

“I know a guy, if you want his number,” Gray said and sipped her tea.

“Sure. Text it to me,” Emma replied.

Gray reached for the salad, eyeing the green folder Emma had placed next to her own empty plate. “So… are you going to keep us in suspense, or do you want to tell us what’s in there?”

Emma hesitated. All morning she’d been feeling more and more uncomfortable about the idea of sharing this with her friends—Gray especially. She could be so judgmental. For as long as they’d been friends, and as many times as Gray had been there for her, the advice she gave was always tinged with the slightest bit of condescension. As if she was thinking I would never have tolerated this or Darnell would never do that to me. Emma had called her on it once or twice, but Gray always denied it and for the most part, she valued Gray’s opinions and guidance. This, though—this was huge.

Emma decided to just rip off the Band-Aid. She opened the folder and handed it to Gray, who put the salad tongs down.

Her eyes widened. “What the hell is this?”

“He was going to divorce me,” Emma said as Gray started flipping pages. Lizzie put her tea glass down with a clatter and got up to look over Gray’s shoulder. “And I’m pretty sure he was having an affair.”

“What?” Gray said.

Lizzie’s hand flew up to cover her mouth.

Emma relayed the story of the phone call and the woman’s voice on the other end.

“Did you ask her who she was?” Gray said.

Emma shook her head. “I just hung up. I think I panicked.”

Gray went through the papers again, more slowly this time. “Well, he wasn’t fucking around. This is one of the top family law firms in the state. Not as highly rated as mine, of course, but—”

“God, Gray, are you really finding a way to make this about you?” Lizzie snapped.

Gray set her jaw. “I was merely stating a fact. You don’t have to jump down my throat.”

“Ladies, please,” Emma said.

They both blinked, remembering, apparently, that she was there. Lizzie reached for Emma’s hand across the island. “Do you think he was going to leave you for this other woman?”

Gray clucked her tongue. “That’s an awful thing to say.”

Emma sighed. “Maybe. I have no clue.”

“But you can’t be that surprised by this,” Gray said, gesturing at the papers. “Your marriage was unhappy for a long time.”

There it was—the condescension. But Lizzie spoke before Emma could.

“That was an awful thing to say.”

“Can you two please back off each other?” Emma said. “I invited you over here to talk this through, not to bicker.”

Gray glared at Lizzie and Lizzie glared back until finally, Gray took a long, deep breath and refocused on Emma. She tapped her perfectly shaped fingernail on the folder. “You really have no idea who this woman was? Have you tried calling back?”

“Yes, but it goes straight to voicemail now. She must have turned the phone off.” Emma served herself a sliver of quiche and reached for her fork. “I also checked his personal email—the man never changed his password—but it was nothing but junk mail, and I haven’t been able to hack into his work account—yet. Gray, do you think Darnell could get me in?”

“Maybe. He’s a little slammed right now, but I’ll talk to him.”

“What if this woman was with him that night? What if she knows what happened out there?”

Or caused the accident somehow? she added silently, not wanting to endure the look Gray was sure to give her if she voiced her suspicion aloud. Instead, interestingly, Gray and Lizzie eyed one another. There was that odd inkling again, that they knew something she didn’t. If they did, why didn’t they just tell her?

“What?” Emma said.

Lizzie took a bite of muffin and Gray closed the folder.

“Nothing. We’re just worried about you.”

Emma sighed and chose to ignore Gray’s comment, as well as the fact that the two of them were suddenly referring to themselves as a “we” when two minutes ago they were about to rip each other’s heads off. “What would you do if I were just another suspicious client, Gray? What would you advise?”

“Usually if we think someone is cheating, we just hire a PI,” Gray said, placing some salad on her plate. “It obviously helps our case if we can get hard evidence.”

“That sounds so seedy.”

“Seedy but effective.”

“Maybe you should just let it go,” Lizzie suggested, picking at the top of her muffin. “I mean, does it really matter who she was now that he’s… gone?”