Every Last Secret(67)

I don’t know where you are, but if you’re up for a drink, let me know.—Cat

I sent the text and turned to face the dining room table, where Randall James sat. Our Tennessee-born attorney had a full spread before him and was digging enthusiastically into a blueberry-and-whipped-cream-topped crepe. Across from him, William was on the phone with the Human Resources director of Winthorpe Tech, discussing termination possibilities for Neena. Firing her had been my first demand, coupled by the quick requirement that he never, ever speak to her again. No texts, no emails, no calls. A complete dissection of her from our lives. He had quickly agreed, then tried to pull me in for a kiss—one I had refused. Punishment for this crime had been too long coming to be dealt swiftly. Neena was experiencing a mountain of it. William barely had to deal with a molehill.

“No severance package.” My husband slid his chair back from the table and met my eyes. “Yes, effectively immediately. I want her locked out of everything.”

Randall tapped a piece of paper and slid it toward him. William glanced at the document and nodded.

“Yes, I’m aware of that risk. If she threatens anything, you have her call Randall. He’ll handle it. And we have a release form she needs to sign. Tell her that her final paycheck is contingent on it.”

“Not until Monday,” I said quietly. “Lock her out now, but don’t fire her until Monday. In the meantime, send out an email that looks like it’s going to the entire team but only goes to her. One that says the office is closed today and tomorrow.”

“Will she believe that?” Randall settled back in his seat and straightened, his checkered orange tie resting on his generous belly.

“She won’t have the mental energy to question it,” I said, turning to the window and looking across our yard at their house. In the light of day, there were only two police cars present. The forensic van and search dogs had left, their work done. The dogs had followed the intruder’s path through three yards and over a low place in the neighborhood’s fence, then lost the scent when he got into a vehicle. Poof, gone.

“Why wait until Monday?” William questioned, the phone pulled away from his mouth.

“She’s been hit with a lot,” I said. “Losing her job in the middle of a police investigation—it might be too much for her to handle.” I said it with an air of kindness, but my motives were far from altruistic. She needed to properly understand the ramifications of her actions, and right now, her firing would just be one more thrown stone. Better for that blow to come when she would feel the sting of its impact.

I met William’s gaze and raised my brows, daring him to question me. He held the eye contact for a moment, then relayed the instructions.

From the front of our yard, movement caught my eye as a police SUV made the turn into our drive. I cleared my throat. “Randall, they’re here.”



The doorbell rang, and the attorney stood and wiped at his mouth. “Both of you, just stay right here.”

I leaned against the wall and silenced my phone, which was ringing with another call from Kelly, who must be watching the excitement with binoculars. Randall’s smooth accent boomed through the entry hall as he flirted shamelessly with Atherton’s female chief of police.

“Cat. William.” Chief Danika McIntyre appeared in the open doorway. “Good afternoon.”

I rounded the edge of the table and smiled, accepting the hug that the tall woman provided. Danika McIntyre had been our chief for eight years and had, during that time, coordinated several toy drives and charity projects through our Winthorpe Foundation. “I’m sorry about the middle-of-the-night call.”

“No apologies needed. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to get here. But don’t worry, we’ve been very busy on this case. I had a judge sign off on the warrants as soon as the courts opened, so we’ve been able to get quite a lot done in the last ten hours.”

I spoke before William did, hoping that he wouldn’t question the purpose of warrants. “That’s great to hear. Please, sit down. Have you eaten? I can have a plate fixed for you—anything you want.” From behind her, I spotted two officers hovering in the foyer, and I paused.

Following my gaze, she gave a regretful smile. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a pleasure call. Mr. and Mrs. Winthorpe, this is Detective Cullen and Officer Anders.”

I shook both of their hands, as did William.

“They need to speak to you, Mr. Winthorpe. Privately. If you’d like your legal counsel to join us, that is certainly within your right.”

“You can question me here, in front of Randall. And I’d like Cat to stay. We have no secrets.” He hesitated. “Not anymore.”

What a laughable statement. He may not have any secrets from me, but I had a mountain of them from him.

“Very well.” The chief pulled out one of our linen-wrapped chairs and sat, gesturing to the other uniforms to follow suit. “We need to ask about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Neena Ryder.”

“We had a friendship, one that felt inappropriate at times. She made it clear that she was interested in a physical relationship. I declined her advances, for the most part.”

“For the most part?” Detective Cullen spoke up. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t answer that,” Randall drawled. “The extent of William and Neena’s relationship has no bearing on this conversation.”