Wish You Were Gone(89)
“Did Darnell tell her what?” Emma demanded.
“That he was the one paying me off,” Lizzie said, filling the mug from the teapot. At least her hand was shaking, Gray noticed. Because the calm in this room was all wrong. “Darnell was the one sending me monthly checks all that time.”
“He… what?” Emma looked at Gray. “You knew about this?”
Gray raised her hands. “I only just found out.”
No need to mention that just meant earlier this week. Emma stood up and started pacing, running her hands through her hair. “This is insane. I don’t… why would Darnell do that?”
Lizzie handed the steaming mug to Gray. Gray stared into it for half a second before narrowing her eyes at Lizzie.
“Do you have any vodka?”
She didn’t want to stay here a moment longer, but clearly Emma wasn’t leaving, and now she felt blindsided. Lizzie had told Emma the truth? Why now, after all these years? Her body was still quaking with adrenaline as her mind fought to catch up to what was happening.
“Gray, talk. What did Darnell know? Where did this money come from? Why would he do this?”
Gray glanced at Lizzie, who lifted one shoulder, giving her permission to tell the story. As if she needed Lizzie’s permission. This was her husband’s decision—her information to tell. At least Lizzie had fished out an Absolut bottle from somewhere. She poured Gray a couple of fingers and handed over the glass.
“Apparently, just after the affair,” she said frostily, “Darnell found some letter from Lizzie on James’s desk. He asked James what he was going to do about it and James said he wasn’t going to do anything. He figured the problem would just go away.”
Lizzie blew out a breath, and Gray took a gulp of vodka to keep from shooting the woman an understanding look. Because yes, men could suck the way no one else knew how to suck. Especially James Walsh.
After Gray had complained to her husband about Lizzie’s stalking, he’d called Lizzie and set up a meeting. When Lizzie had gone to Darnell’s office, he’d told her the truth about who had been subsidizing her all these years, and told her that if she would stop watching his house and making his wife skittish, he’d continue the payments. The truth was, he was going to continue the payments anyway, but Lizzie didn’t need to know that.
“Darnell tried to convince him to take responsibility at the time, but when James refused, Darnell stepped in.”
Emma’s eyes shone. She shook her head, and Gray knew that she was absorbing this latest revelation about James’s character. It couldn’t feel good. How much could one woman take before she shattered?
“Darnell told me he did it because he was worried I’d go to the press and make a big stink out of it,” Lizzie said, handing Gray a mug full of black coffee. “He was worried about potential—”
“Negative PR,” all three of them said in unison.
And then Gray and Emma locked eyes and somehow, miraculously, laughed. Lizzie looked at them like they were crazy. But this was just more evidence of the deep connection between Gray and Emma—their long history of shared moments and dumb personal jokes. However petty it was, it gratified Gray that Lizzie didn’t get it. However she could illustrate that Lizzie Larkin was on the outside, she would do it. If it helped remind Emma of how long they’d been friends. If it helped win her back. When their laughter finally abated, Lizzie angled herself between Gray and Emma.
“But I think he also did it because he’s legitimately a good person,” she told Gray. “Now, having spoken with him about it… I can see that about him. I’m sorry I ever thought he might have had something to do with James’s death.”
Gray’s eyes darted to Emma, but Emma was just watching Lizzie, her expression almost mystified. Which made sense. Considering the amount of shocking information she’d just had spewed at her, it might take hours—maybe days—for her to sort through it all.
“Anyway, I’m just eternally grateful. If you guys ever need anything…” Lizzie continued. “I mean, not that I’m really in a position to help you in any way, but you know.”
Gray was stunned by Lizzie’s generosity. After all these years of rivalry and snarky remarks and undercutting, it was just so simple for her. Gray’s family had supported her family, and all else fell away.
Then Lizzie turned to Emma. “There’s one other thing you should know.”
KELSEY
“Is it weird, living in the house where your dad killed himself?”
Kelsey’s grip on her water bottle tightened. What was weird was the fact that Felicity Wells was in her house. That she felt welcome here. That she had the gall to say something like that.
“He didn’t kill himself, Felicity!” one of her friends said, gasping, but laughing. “It was an accident.”
Felicity’s eyes trailed over Kelsey’s bare shoulder to the door between the kitchen and the space that had formerly been the garage. She and her friends were huddled around the keg, alternately gaping at Hunter’s hot friends and peppering Kelsey with inane questions.
“But doesn’t it freak you out, just being here?” Mychaella Carson asked. “I’m creeped out and I’ve only been here ten minutes.”