Woman on the Edge(56)
She knew then exactly what she had to do, how to stop Donna from coming after her and her daughter, how to make it all stop for good. It was probably best for Morgan not to know in advance. Safer for everyone.
Nicole had to disappear so Quinn could start a new life. With a new mother.
With Morgan.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE MORGAN
We’re in the car driving away from Donna’s house, where we left her weeping on the couch. What she did to Nicole was bad—the letters every year, like clockwork, but she is not the one after Nicole. She is not the one after Quinn.
I turn to Ben in the car. We’re both quiet, both obviously in shock, our minds racing. Who is the redheaded reporter? And why was she after Nicole? Why is she after us? I’m so out of my depth, and Ben looks ready to drop. He’s got lines in his forehead I’m sure weren’t there yesterday. “Should we call Martinez? Or Jessica? Tell them everything?”
He clears his throat and adjusts the sun visor. “Right now, I want to call Greg and make sure Quinn is okay.” He scrubs his cheek with his hand. “I don’t know what to do about Martinez. She thinks I’m an idiot for trusting you, or that I did something to Nicole. She said herself Greg has every right to Quinn. So, at this point, I feel like we’re on our own. Let’s get out of Wisconsin. I feel like shit. And I don’t know what the hell is going on.”
I nod. “Okay. Let’s go.”
We get on I-94 East toward Chicago. I’m lost in my thoughts. Ben fans his blue T-shirt, damp with sweat. He looks so frustrated. I am, too.
He nods at his phone on the dash. “Call Greg’s number. But stay quiet and let me do the talking. If I ask outright about Melissa, or sound accusatory, I’ll just piss him off. We have to be careful.”
He’s right. I find Greg’s name and hit call then speaker. It rings three times before he picks up.
“What is it, Ben? I’m trying to get Quinn down for a nap.”
“Just checking on Quinn. Seeing how her day’s been.”
“It’s only been a few hours.” He sighs. “She’s good. I can’t really talk now.”
A female voice murmurs in the background.
I can’t stop myself. “Greg, is that Melissa?”
“Ben, what the fuck? Why are you so involved with this woman? No, that’s not Melissa. It’s a friend of Nicole’s, okay? There are people who loved her who are taking care of things. We don’t need you, thank you very much.”
Ben jumps in. “Which friend, Greg?”
He pauses then finally says, “Tessa.”
“Tessa?” Ben asks.
“Yes, Nicole’s best friend, her coworker. Tessa Ward. I’ve got to go.”
“Wait! Is Tessa a redhead?” I ask.
“What? No. She’s a blonde. Why are you even asking me this?” he splutters, and I hear Quinn cry.
The phone goes dead. If Nicole had a best friend, why would she file papers for me to be Quinn’s guardian?
For the next few minutes the only sound is the tires rolling along the flat pavement. Without looking at me, Ben says, “I have something I haven’t told you.”
My heart does a frenetic dance.
“There’s a reason Nicole hated me.” He switches lanes. “When Breathe went public, Donna tried one more time to get back at Nicole. She filed a wrongful-death civil suit against her. Donna’s attorney interviewed me, and I admitted to her that I thought Nicole was irresponsible when she was younger. She was. It doesn’t mean I think she killed Amanda. The suit never went anywhere, because the statute of limitations was over. But the damage was done. Nicole found out what I said and never forgave me.”
He looks at me for a moment with absolute sorrow, then turns his eyes back to the road.
“I told the truth, Morgan. It was a mistake.”
His regret, and mine, weigh down the air in the car.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry you and Nicole never had the chance to make amends. I’m sorry I didn’t question my husband and that I never listened to my instincts. That I didn’t dig into what was really going on with him. I’m sorry you had to hear from Martinez that Nicole wanted me to have custody of Quinn. You should have heard it from me. I’ve been so scared to trust you. To trust that our … friendship was real.”
“Me too.”
I look at him. “So, is that it? There’s nothing else I don’t know?”
He smiles, a genuine smile that makes everything okay, even for just this moment. “That’s it.”
“Then let’s figure out what we know so far,” I say. “Someone is following us. We don’t know who. Greg said he’s renting a place on North Astor Street, right? If Melissa’s behind all this, if she’s posing as a reporter, we need to confront her.” Then I hit the heel of my hand onto my forehead. “I’m so stupid. I should have shown Melissa’s company photo to Donna to see if she recognized her.” I sigh. “And what about this Tessa? She’s at Greg’s now. Do you know her?”
He flicks the turn signal and moves into the right lane. “I met her once at Nicole’s, years ago. But I don’t know her.”
Just as he’s about to say more, my phone rings. It’s Jessica.