North Twentieth Street

Today Jen had selected her best dress—the one she’d snagged on clearance and had been waiting for a very special occasion to wear. Usually, she saved her high-end name-brand steals for dates with Theo.

But she had no idea when her next outing with Theo would be. He hadn’t called or even sent a text since canceling lunch on her.

This was not acceptable, by God. Not acceptable at all. It was time she demanded to know his true intentions. Lewis York was Theo’s attorney. Maybe if she ran into him, she could get a sense of where her relationship with Theo was going. His attorney would surely know if he was inching toward a divorce.

For this covert operation, she’d pulled out the big guns. This white linen sleeveless sheath showed off her fabulous tan and long toned legs while giving only a glimpse of her cleavage. Sexy yet sophisticated. The white sandals with their sleek wedge heels completed the look. She wore her hair down around her shoulders and used a light hand with the cosmetics. Relaxed and elegant. She looked stunning, even if she did say so herself.

If she ran into Lewis, she had the perfect conversation starter. She wanted to thank him for taking care of her brilliant goddaughter. Maybe she should even mention that he needed to keep a closer watch on his friend. Theo seemed to be overly tense lately.

If Theo was deep in trouble somehow, Jen hoped to God it didn’t involve what had happened to that Abbott man and his family.

The very idea was ridiculous to even think . . . wasn’t it?

In any event, what better way to accomplish this mission than to meet Amelia for lunch? They needed to catch up anyway. She hadn’t seen Amelia all week.

Jen strode across the marble floor as if she owned the place and parked herself directly in front of the receptionist. The woman behind the desk might be a decade younger than Jen, but she had nothing on her. Jen worked hard to keep her tits high and her ass tight and her face absolutely wrinkle-free.

“May I help you?” the woman asked, indifference dripping from her tone.

Other women were always jealous of Jen and rarely tried to hide it. Even the ones who worked in fancy law offices.

“My name is Jennifer Whitten. I’m meeting Amelia Swanner for lunch.”

“Have a seat, Ms. Whitten.” She turned her palm up and gestured toward the seating area as if she were Vanna White. “I’ll let Ms. Swanner know you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

Jen turned on her heel and strode across the lobby to the grouping of lush chairs. She settled into one facing the desk so she could watch the bank of elevators beyond it. Though she would never say the words out loud, nor would she put thought into action, she was famished.

She would starve before she allowed an extra ounce to plant itself on her body.

The receptionist picked up her phone and made a call, then replaced it and turned to the woman who had just walked up to her desk. The newcomer was obviously another employee. She held a stack of files in one arm. She, too, was young and quite attractive. She rested her designer-clad hip on the edge of the desk and chatted with the receptionist.

Jen kept her shoulders back and head held high as the seconds and minutes ticked off. When the two glanced at her and began to laugh behind their hands, fury bolted through her. Of course, she had no way of knowing if they were talking about her. By the second time they looked toward her, she was ready to walk over and demand what the hell they thought was so damned funny.

But she couldn’t do that. Not and embarrass Amelia as well as herself.

She pulled out her cell and typed a text to her goddaughter. God, she wished she knew all that shorthand text stuff. It took forever to type a whole sentence, much less two.

Where are you? I’m waiting in the lobby.

Jen chastised herself for becoming impatient. She’d always had an inferiority complex. No matter how well she dressed or how carefully she controlled her diction, she felt as if others considered her white trash.

She hated that feeling.

Aunt Jen I’m so sorry! The boss just called all the interns into a meeting. Can I have a rain check???

Jen prayed the marble floor would crack open and swallow her. How would she ever walk out of here now?

Rather than wallow in self-pity and drag Amelia into it, she typed a response. Sure thing, sweet girl. Love you!

Jen stood and marched out of the lobby without once looking at the two at the desk. She was going to be someone important one day. Maybe even a senator’s wife.

Maybe that was why Theo hadn’t called her. He was rising in the polls. He had warned her that he would be incredibly busy making that happen.

Outside the sun was shining, and Jen took a deep breath. By the end of the year, her investment in this relationship would pay off big for her. All she had to do was hang on. Her new life would be worth the wait.

She hoped.

As she descended the steps, a dark sedan pulled to the curb, and the back door opened. A blonde woman, half her face hidden by fashionably large, upscale sunglasses, emerged from the car, her poise regal, her rose-colored suit no doubt Chanel.

The woman started up the steps as Jen reached the final few, and then she recognized her.

Suzanne Thompson. Theo’s wife.

Before Jen could prevent the move, she had stopped. She felt herself staring at the woman, and somehow she couldn’t snap from the trance. It was like driving past an accident; you just had to look.

When Suzanne reached the same step where Jen stood, she glanced briefly at her, distaste glaringly obvious, before continuing upward. Jen watched her go.

The senator’s wife was so full of herself she hadn’t even recognized the woman who was fucking her husband.

15

3:30 p.m.

Whisper Lake Circle

Kerri walked around to the back of the property. Falco started on the opposite side of the driveway. The estate-size lot overlooking the lake was a full one or one and a half acres. For now, the goal was to have a look at any areas scheduled for demolition. This aspect of the disagreement between Abbott and Thompson might or might not have any relevance on the case.

The preparations for demo had begun. KEEP OUT and BEWARE signs were posted. A detached garage had received the same treatment. Around behind the house the in-ground pool had been marked with a large red X as well. The patio, all hardscapes. Every single feature of the previous dwelling would be gone. The utilities and other services had not been disconnected; at least the electricity hadn’t, since one of the lights on the back of the house was on. A large excavator stood next to the pool. Apparently, that was where the contractor was to begin as soon as the final permitting was approved. Obviously, the disconnecting of the public services was part of the holdup.

Deep into the backyard, almost to the lake’s edge, Kerri paused and looked back at the house; then she surveyed the scene out over the lake. It was a beautiful place, no question. But it wasn’t so unique or so beautiful that something very similar couldn’t have been purchased someplace else in or around Birmingham for far less and without the hassle of demolishing the old to build the new.

Why this piece of property? Just to annoy the Thompsons? Some sort of get-even maneuver?

“What you think, Devlin?”

She turned around slowly, taking another long look. “I’m wondering why Abbott would bother. I mean, it’s a great view, but I don’t see anything unique about the neighborhood or this particular property.”

“I checked the school rating,” Falco said. “Not spectacular, and there are no private schools in the immediate area.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it either. Schools are usually the top concern for parents, right?”

“Definitely. We should talk to Bellemont about this.” Kerri had opted not to bring it up to see if the attorney would during their one and only meeting. But he hadn’t. “After seeing the place, I’m thinking there was some other reason for buying the house and tearing it down.”

“Like an in-your-face to Theo Thompson?” Falco suggested.

“Exactly like that,” Kerri agreed.

“Since we have to wait until tomorrow to talk to that neighbor’s housekeeper,” Falco said, “we should just go back and ask him.”

The housekeeper Falco had mentioned, one Angie Cowart, was at work today, and her employer was having a party tonight. She wouldn’t be home until around midnight. To avoid warning Cowart that they wanted to question her, Kerri had asked Jenkins to find out her schedule without mentioning the request to Cowart or anyone else. Still beside herself about the murders, Jenkins had gladly agreed to do so.

“Good idea.” Kerri was annoyed that Ben Abbott’s one close friend had failed to be as forthcoming as she suspected he could have been. “I don’t think playing nice with the attorney worked so well.”