He picked it up and read, lips moving slightly as he sounded out the words. It was a tic that drove her mad sometimes.
He finished and set the paper in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just looked out over the gardens. She waited. Tom would have some sort of platitude. Words meant to be comforting that she would hear as an indictment.
She looked away from his face and lit a cigarette. The pack was nearly empty. Did she have more in the refrigerator? Or was this the last one?
Five minutes passed. She felt rather than saw movement, risked a glance. Tom was crying, silently, tears rolling down his worn, lined face.
She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to react. Josh wasn’t Tom’s son, not really, yet Tom had adopted him soon after their marriage began, had always loved him like his own, even when Josh was at his worst. She didn’t like having to share her grief with her husband. It was hers, hers alone, a tight ball of perpetually sustained energy that kept her body animated, jerking along like a zombie from day to night to day again. An internal supernova that happened one thousand eight hundred and seventy-four days earlier. One thousand eight hundred and seventy-four, not one thousand eight hundred and seventy-five, because Aubrey hadn’t told her right away.
Sometimes Daisy was happy about that. That she’d spent one last day in ignorant bliss, not knowing that her son was most likely dead.
And other days, days like today, she wanted to rip the little bitch’s head off for not calling immediately. What in the hell had she been thinking? No, that wasn’t the right question. What had Aubrey been doing?
Daisy knew exactly what. Killing her son.
Five Years Ago
Daisy was in her car, taking a first drive in her much-coveted Mercedes CLK, the one Tom had surprised her with the night before. The day was sunny, blue skies, puffy white clouds. Flowers bloomed, and the heavy scent of honeysuckle gathered in her nose.
She was happy.
She’d been truly astonished last night when the car rolled into the driveway. She caught a glimpse of something in the front yard and glanced out the kitchen window. She knew immediately what was happening, rushed out the door. The car purred on the cracked concrete, dark and sleek, a midnight blue so deep it was nearly black, the halogen headlights ringed in . . .
“What’s this? Tom, what have you done? It has eyelashes? My car has eyelashes?”
Tom laughed, and she could see he was thrilled at her overwhelming joy. Daisy was a hard woman to please—she knew this. Tom knew it as well, and spent much of his time thinking about ways he could make Daisy smile. Delivering the vehicle she’d dropped so many hints about loving was only one gesture in a long line of gestures.
But this one was worth something to her.
She rewarded him with some bedroom acrobatics that she wasn’t sure she still had in her, but was happy to find she did. The car symbolized a new beginning. A fresh start for them.
But as she drove, imagining the simmering jealousy behind the admiring glances of her friends at the club, and enjoying every minute of being able to finally, finally, throw her bounty in their smug faces, her cell phone rang. The navigation display popped up with the number for her daughter-in-law. Tom had set up the Bluetooth in the car so all Daisy had to do was click a button on the steering wheel to answer.
Daisy’s good mood slid away. To say she wasn’t fond of the woman who shared her son’s bed was an understatement. She’d never warmed up to the girl, thought she was trouble from day one. Like mother, like daughter. That day, so long ago, when Josh had taken her side, always rankled. Josh had always liked Aubrey, yes, but Daisy never imagined he’d marry the little brat.
What did they say—A daughter is a daughter for all of your life, a son was a son ’til he took him a wife? Even knowing her son would grow up and leave her eventually, that he’d chosen to do so with Aubrey Trenton was enough to send her blood pressure through the roof. Daisy relegated to second place by Marie Trenton’s little girl, of all people?
It wasn’t right—Daisy and Josh had been pals, best friends. She’d sacrificed everything for him. Created a new life with a man she didn’t necessarily love in order to give her son stability, a good, solid, loving world to grow up in. And little orphan Aubrey stepped in and ruined everything.
She took a deep breath and answered.
“Yes?”
“Daisy?”
There were tears in Aubrey’s voice, beneath the steel, which was surprising. The hard, sharp edge of the girl was all Daisy ever saw. Daisy supposed she couldn’t blame her for needing to protect herself, after the hullabaloo, but when speaking to her family, she should adopt a more pleasant tone.
“What is it?”
“Daisy, you need to come over. Josh is missing.”
Today
The cigarette pack was empty.
Tom had stopped crying.
“Are you really going to contest?” he asked.
“The insurance payout? Of course. Josh and I had a deal: I cosign on the house, he makes me the beneficiary.”