Every Last Secret(25)

“Talk about embarrassing.” I pulled at the ends of my ponytail, tightening it. “I should have just done it myself. It’s just, he was way over there when I saw him, and . . .” I pointed to the far end of the room, then covered my face with my palms, hoping he would come over and comfort me. “I’m sorry.”

Ned Plymouth would have had his pants unzipped by now. William Winthorpe only grunted. “It’s fine.” He touched my shoulder on the way to the bedroom door, which wasn’t the warm embrace I was hoping for but was apparently all I would get.

He opened the bedroom door and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get to that call.”

So much for my powers of seduction. Not a whiff of hesitation about heading back to Cat. I followed him as he jogged down the stairs. “Thanks for getting it out. I couldn’t leave to work out with it up there. I’m heading to that gym they opened on Alma Street. Have you been there?”

He paused. “Uh, no. We have one at the house. Cat has a trainer who meets me there.”

“Oh.” I frowned. Of course. A private trainer, and here I was, schlepping to the public gym like white trash. “Does Cat ever run? I used to have a jogging partner in Mountain View, but ever since we’ve been here . . .” I shrugged.

“Cat?” He laughed. “Not unless she’s being chased by something.”

“Oh.” I let the bait dangle and watched to see if he’d bite.

“But I do. There are some trails in the neighborhood, ones that lead up into the canyon. I can show you them sometime. It’s a nice long path if you have the stamina for it.”

I struggled to stay aloof, my body humming as our eyes met in the dim foyer. “That’d be great. Stamina isn’t a problem. I can go for hours.”

“Huh.” His gaze fell from my eyes and slowly wound down my body before he snapped back into place. “Tell Matt I said hello.”

“Will do.” I held open the door. “And thanks again.”

There was a final moment of eye contact, and then he was gone.

One pawn, taken.





CHAPTER 14

CAT

The days passed, and my unease with Neena Ryder grew. Wednesday, I stood on our upper balcony and watched my husband and Neena sit by her pool, their chairs turned toward each other. I glanced at my watch, irritated. They both should be at the office, yet they were there as if settled in to stay.

To add to my unease, William never sat with employees. He paced. Threatened. Hovered over their workstations. Stood if in meetings. Years ago, his brother had pointed out that William only relaxed and let down his guard with me. He’d called me the William Whisperer, then asked if we could lend him some money.

“Mrs. Winthorpe?” I turned to see the newest maid standing in the doorway, the phone in her hand. “There is a call for you. Your sister.”

“I’ll have to call her back. Tell her I’m in a meeting.”

The woman nodded, and I rested against the railing and watched as William leaned forward, his elbows settling on his knees. His back was to me, and I made a mental note to invest in a pair of binoculars.

Neena was beginning to creep into our lives in a way that made me uncomfortable. We’d had an agonizingly long brunch where she’d made doe eyes at me the entire time. She was dead set on being my friend and had no issues with popping by unannounced or proposing events in front of Matt and William, where I had no opportunity to make an excuse or decline. And as our husbands grew closer, she kept swarming tighter, like a fly you constantly heard but couldn’t quite manage to smack.

I turned away from the view and forced myself to enter the house.

I moved down the stairs.

Sat down in my favorite chair in the reading room.

Picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages, struggling not to look back down at my watch.

Seriously, what were they talking about? I tossed the magazine onto the ottoman and stood. Pacing before the floor-to-ceiling windows, I cursed the wall of thick hedges between our lots. The privacy, while nice, was screwing with my sanity.

I eyed my purse, then dragged the side zipper open and withdrew the small white card Kelly had given me. I moved to the desk and picked up the phone from its base, punching in the number printed in gold on the front of the card.

Kelly was right. Neena was getting too close—both personally and professionally. It was only smart to know more about the woman who seemed to be systematically moving into our lives.

“Mr. Beck?” I paused. “This is Catherine Winthorpe. I have someone I would like you to investigate.”



“What was that all about?” I met William at the side door, a cup of coffee in hand, prepared just the way he liked it.

His eyebrows raised in surprise as he took the cup. “You’re done with yoga early.”

“I didn’t go.” I followed him into the kitchen, waiting for an explanation. Stopping at the counter, he pulled the paper toward him and flipped to the financial section.

“Well?” I pressed.

“Well, what?” He glanced up at me.

“What was that all about? Why were you over there?”

“Oh, I was going over some issues with team members. Neena didn’t want to do it in the office. Too public.”

“Uh-huh.” I studied him. “So why didn’t you meet here?”