The Last Mrs. Parrish(88)

The door opened, and the detective returned. “How did someone like you get mixed up with someone like her?”

I exhaled. “Doesn’t matter. Tell me, according to this, there’s an open warrant out for her. What would happen if I called the police?”

He leaned back in his chair and tented his hands. “They’d pick her up, call the Missouri police, and have her taken back there to stand trial.”

“What kind of sentence does perjury and jury tampering carry?”

“Varies by state, but it’s a felony and usually carries a prison sentence of at least a year. The fact that she skipped out on bail is going to add some time as well.”

“What about what happened to that poor boy? Will that factor in?”

He shrugged. “There’s not a punitive component to the criminal charges, so not technically. But I’m sure the despicable intent will sway a sentencing judge, even if he or she doesn’t admit it.”

“This is all confidential, right?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you asking me if I’m obligated to turn her in?”

I nodded.

“I’m not an officer of the court. This is your report; you do what you want with it.”

“Thank you. Um, this has nothing to do with Amber, but I need you to look into one more thing for me.” I filled him in, handed him a folder, and left.

I hailed a cab and had it take me to the bank—the one twenty miles from home, where Jackson didn’t know I had an account or a safe-deposit box. I looked through the file one more time before putting it away. A picture caught my eye: a woman who must have been Amber’s mother. That’s when I realized the other thing she had done—and that is what convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt that Amber, aka Lana, was as devoid of a conscience as Jackson. That revelation was liberating. It meant that I could proceed with the plan that I had begun to formulate in my mind.

I wasn’t going to turn her in. No, she wasn’t going back to Missouri to serve a measly couple of years in prison. She was going to get a life sentence right here in Connecticut.





Sixty




If there’s one thing living with an abusive psychopath has taught me, it’s how to make the best of a bad situation. Once I recovered from the betrayal, I realized Amber could be the answer to everything. It was now obvious that she’d only used me to get close to Jackson. She had manipulated me into getting her a job so she’d be right there every day. But the problem was, Jackson wouldn’t be as easily fooled as I was. And as cunning as Amber was, she had only half the picture, no real idea what made him tick, what turned him on. That’s where I’d come in. I would feed her the information she needed to succeed in turning his obsessive focus from me to her. Little by little, I would play her, just as she’d played me.

I had to make him want her more than he wanted me. His money, power, and meticulous planning ensured that my only way out was for him to let me go. Up until then, he’d had no reason to do so. That was all about to change. I decided that I needed to pretend that he had once cheated on me. I wanted her to believe there was a crack in my marriage, that Jackson was capable of being tempted.

We met at Barnes & Noble that Saturday, and when she approached, I almost didn’t recognize her.

“Wow. You look fantastic.” Her hair was no longer dishwater brown, but a beautiful ash blond, her brows shaped into perfect arches over thick, luscious lashes and perfectly applied eyeliner. Contoured cheekbones, just the right amount of blush, and glossed lips completed the picture. She looked like a different woman. She hadn’t wasted any time transforming herself.

“Thanks. I went to one of those makeup places at Saks and they helped me. I couldn’t go to work in a fancy New York office looking like a country mouse.”

Please, that was a Red Door makeover if I ever saw one. I wondered where she’d gotten the money. “Well, you look wonderful.”

After browsing a bit, we went across the street to a café for lunch.

“So how are things going? Still loving the job?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m learning so much. And I really appreciate Jackson giving me the chance to fill Battley’s shoes. I know it wasn’t easy for him, after working with her for so many years.”

I had to hand it to her, she gave nothing away. I don’t know how she did it, but when Jackson came home a few short months after Amber had started and told me that Battley had resigned, I’d suspected she’d had a hand in it. “She was a gem. So loyal. Jackson didn’t really tell me why she decided to retire early. Do you have any idea?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Well, she was up there in age, Daph. I think she was really more tired and taxed than she let on. I had to cover for her more than once.” She leaned in toward me conspiratorially. “I probably saved her getting fired on a few occasions when she deleted an important meeting from Jackson’s calendar. Luckily I caught it in time and fixed it.”

“How lucky for her.”

“Well, I guess she realized it was time. I think she was ready to have more time for her grandkids too.”

“I’m sure—but enough about work. What’s going on with your personal life? Any cute guys at the office?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever meet someone.”