The Last Thing She Ever Did(103)

Liz could feel her face grow warm. It wasn’t the wine. It wasn’t merely what the detective was saying. It was something deeper, coming from far away inside her.

“It does look close,” she said. “My mom loved that color. Called it Elizabeth Arden pink. Same color as her lipstick.”

Esther ran her fingers over the stiff, plastic-coated fabric. “The other paint spots match the wall color over there.” She pointed to the dining room, a celadon hue.

Neither woman spoke.

“Linda Kaiser at the bar exam was right, wasn’t she? Something was wrong that morning and you didn’t stay for the test. You were upset about something, but you couldn’t have heard about Charlie yet.”

Again silence.

“Isn’t that right, Liz? You didn’t know what had happened to him before the test.”

No answer.

“You came to see me, Liz,” Esther said. “But you left before telling me why.”

Tears puddled in Liz’s eyes. “I was worried about Charlie.”

“Everyone was. You didn’t need to come to my office to tell me that.”

“I wanted to help.”

“Maybe you did. But you didn’t help, Liz. You came and went. You left so suddenly that you left your purse. And then when we dropped it by, you didn’t have much to say. Your husband kind of stonewalled us. What was it that you were going to tell me?”

Liz left the table and returned to the window overlooking the Deschutes. As always, the river snaked past the old house, darkening in the early evening sky. More early snow, maybe? She considered the Franklin house. The lights were on. Carole was probably giving Charlie a bath. It was a routine that had resumed in spite of everything.

Everything she’d done.

“Detective, you’re right,” Liz said.

The space between them grew tense. Liz was digging deep. Esther had no idea where it was going.

“About what?” she asked.

Her lips trembled, but Liz knew she could do this. She pushed her wineglass away.

“There is something I need to say,” she began. Each word increased her resolve. “Before I do, we need to go next door. Carole needs to hear this too.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Sometimes I think I’m the luckiest person alive. So much of all the good that comes my way is from the amazing network of support that surrounds me as I type away at my stories. I’m so grateful for the contributions of so many who offer advice and support. I can’t thank each of you enough. Here are a few that are on my mind today: My buddy Matt Glass, who knows how much I love to use index cards to plot out a book, and who was an invaluable sounding board in the early stages of this novel. Thanks to Rand and Becky Hardy for some insightful medical details. Good people. Good wine too. Gratitude goes to Thomas & Mercer and its team of dedicated people who are transforming the storytelling process for authors—one book at a time. Special shout-out to Liz Pearsons, a devoted and brilliant editor, who has more than one trick up her sleeve. Thanks to Brittany Dowdle, my copyeditor. She’s so smart! Finally, I’ve dedicated this book to David Downing, my developmental editor. David is flat-out amazing. I can’t think of any other words to describe my appreciation for what he does.

But I know he could.