Page 73 of The Perfect Divorce

“You never showed yesterday, so I figured I’d come to you.” He meekly smiles.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I got swamped with some stuff and then it just slipped my mind. Come in,” I say, beckoning him with my hand.

Alejandro closes the door behind him and takes a couple steps toward me, his eyes scanning the room.

“Nice office. It serves you well.”

“It does.” I gesture to a chair. “Have a seat.”

He sits and crosses his legs, resting his ankle on his knee. “Did you purposefully forget to stop by?”

“Not at all,” I say, pulling my checkbook from a drawer. Plucking a pen from a cup, I click it and place the tip on the amount line. “Think I’d skip out on a bill?” I look to him.

Alejandro stares back at me. “No, I just figured you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Like I said, I got swamped and it slipped my mind.” The pen glides across the paper.

“I could charge you interest, you know?” The corner of his lip perks up. “For being late with payment.”

“You could,” I say. “But how about dinner instead?”

His smile grows. “I suppose I could accept those terms. When?”

“Tomorrow night at seven.”

I tear the check from the booklet, extending it to him. It’s a couple hundred more than we discussed, not for interest, just because I know he needs it more than I do—and he’s earned it... or at least, he will. He takes it from me and gets to his feet. Folding the check in half, Alejandro slides it in his back pocket without even looking at it.

“And how do I know you won’t stand me up again?” he asks.

“You don’t. But we can have dinner at my house, so I won’t have the opportunity to stand you up.”

“And what if you’re not home?”

“I will be,” I say. “Promise.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

BOB MILLER

I stand beside Brad, watching his reaction as he rolls the object over in his gloved hands. He’s seated at his desk, and his eyes are wide as he slowly shakes his head.

“What exactly am I looking at?” Brad asks.

“It’s the knife that was used to murder Kelly Summers.”

He stares up at me in disbelief. “How do you know that, and why would you have this?”

“Because Sarah gave it to me eleven years ago. She told me to get rid of it, make sure no one ever found it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.” I smirk. “I needed an insurance policy with her, in case she ever tried doing the same thing to me.”

“The same what?” Brad asks, but I don’t respond. I let the gravity of what I’ve just implied sink into him, and his look goes from one of curiosity to horror. “Let me get this straight. Are you telling me that Sarah killed Kelly Summers... and you knew about it?”

“Yes.”

“But... why? Why did you...” He stops himself when he realizes he already has the answer. “Because Kelly or Jenna, or whatever her name was, killed your brother.”

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