The Killing Game

Andi drove into the parking lot of Brightside Apartments, Mimi’s address, which was on the north side of the lake and about half a mile from the water. In those weeks after she’d first learned of Greg’s relationship with Mimi Quade, she’d been half crazed with anger and a wild possessiveness. She’d found herself following him from work, and it hadn’t taken long before he drove to a large complex designed with rows of town houses. It wasn’t one of her finest moments by a long shot, but when Andi had learned Mimi’s address, she’d filed the information away for future use, just in case she needed it. Later Greg had told her about going to see Mimi himself. He’d let her know it was over. He insisted Mimi wasn’t pregnant and the affair was really over before it had begun. Andi hadn’t fully believed him, though she’d wanted to, but she wasn’t convinced Greg had been faithful even before Mimi. There were rumors . . .

But at the time she’d pretended to believe Greg. It was easier than fighting. Later, though, she’d found out where Mimi worked and she went to the nail salon and observed Mimi as she gave a manicure to an older woman who requested a glittery diamondlike gem be affixed to every one of her nails. Andi got a pedicure from another woman and wore fake glasses, her hair bound in a scarf in case Mimi chanced to look her way. She figured if she was found out, too damn bad; she’d take the heat. But the scattered girl with the big eyes who’d gazed at Greg so adoringly in their offices had been too involved with her work that day to notice.

Greg had been true to his word about ending it with Mimi, however. As soon as Mimi and her brother announced her pregnancy, the affair was over. From Greg’s point of view, a quick transgression was turning into something more complicated that didn’t fit with his plans. He told Andi the only woman he’d ever really loved was her, that he’d failed her and that he wanted to make it up to her. Andi hadn’t believed him, but the words had soothed her wounded heart, and somewhere in the next few weeks she’d forgiven him enough to sleep with him again. All of that was a blur. Lost time. Blackouts. The fog of misery. Call it what you will, at the time Andi had felt like she was going through the motions of someone else’s life.

Then she’d gotten the nine-one-one call: her husband was being life-flighted to Emanuel Medical Center in northeast Portland. Reality was a bucket of ice water poured over her head. She’d driven to the hospital in a controlled panic, but by the time she got there, Greg was already gone.

Now, thinking back, she had only snapshot memories of seeing Carter and Emma and Ben there, though she could smell Emma, who’d been blindly drunk and reeked of booze. Through it all, Andi had forced herself to stay focused. She needed to ask the right questions. She needed to keep moving forward, make decisions. At one point, Carter had pulled her aside and hugged her, his heart beating fast and hard. She’d noted it from a distance as he rarely touched her. Ben, taking a cue from his brother-in-law, had then hugged her, too, though more stiffly, until Andi eased away. Emma hadn’t been able to do anything but stumble around and cry.

After Greg’s death, Andi had barely thought of Mimi. She’d been diminished by the loss of Andi’s husband. Both Emma and Carter had believed Greg that Mimi’s baby, if it even existed, wasn’t his, so they wanted nothing more to do with the Quades.

A couple of weeks after Greg’s death, Carter told Andi, “I did some research on wonderful Mimi and her brother. Scott Quade’s an extortionist. He’s looking for a quick score, and in this instance Greg played right into his hands. I’d be surprised if the bitch is really pregnant at all, but even if she is, the chances of it being Greg’s are slim to none.”

Emma had agreed with her brother, but had added, “Oh, Scott’s always been around,” she said. “He’s one of the lake rats.”

“Lake rats?” Andi queried.

“No money. Old cabins. Scruffy and poor. Schultz Lake was full of ’em. Not so much anymore. Scott’s just trying to make a score.”

“Maybe you knew him. I never did,” Carter corrected her.

“You had your share of lake friends. I caught you with Melanie.”

“We were kids,” he’d dismissed, sounding long-suffering.

Andi had let the issue go. Her own mental health demanded it, and there wasn’t a lot she could do about it anyway. Carter had relieved her of acting in any way by telling her, “If she’s really pregnant, and if it’s Greg’s, we’ll figure out what to do soon enough,” so none of them had approached Mimi or Scott about the issue again. Then time passed and Andi was pregnant, then she miscarried.... Now she wanted to know the truth from Mimi about Greg and the baby.

She had butterflies in her stomach as she remote locked her Tucson and headed toward Mimi’s town house. She reached the front door and knocked, noting the deferred maintenance in the faded and scarred black paint on the door and the dry, scraggly bushes flanking an exposed aggregate sidewalk riddled with cracks. Glancing around, she saw that the town houses were in total decline. Even so, with the greater Portland area’s blistering rental rate climb, she knew the rent wouldn’t be cheap.

It took a while for Mimi to answer, but when she did, Andi’s eyes were immediately drawn to the very prominent baby bump sticking out from Mimi’s middle. The sight of it made Andi’s ears buzz. Pregnant . . . Mimi really was pregnant.

Mimi stared at her for a moment, then suddenly broke into tears. “I miss him so much!”

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