Page 59 of The Change
Jo glanced nervously at Harriett. “She’s kidding.”
“No, I’m not,” Harriett said. “Ask Rosamund to google aconite, would you?”
Jo and Harriett sat side by side in the back seat of Chase’s car. They’d both held their tongues while another of Jackson Dunn’s sons drove them back to the gate. But the moment the car doors slammed shut, Jo couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Why did you—” she started to ask before Chase slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door.
“What the hell?” he said, interrupting Jo’s thought. “Am I supposed to be your chauffeur now? Why are you both in the back seat?”
“We have things to talk about,” Jo snipped.
“You going to tell me what happened back there at Jackson’s house?” Chase demanded.
Harriett rolled her eyes as she turned to face him. “No,” she said. “And don’t ask again.” Then she returned her attention to Jo. “What were you saying?”
“Why did you say that about”—she put her lips to Harriett’s ear and whispered—“getting rid of Spencer?”
Harriett pulled away and shrugged. “Why not? Someone’s going to have to do it eventually, don’t you agree? It might as well be Rosamund. She has a bumper crop of yellow wolfsbane growing right in her front yard.”
Jo took in a breath. It was pointless trying to talk sense to Harriett. “You probably blew Claude’s mind.”
“I doubt it,” Harriett replied. “Seems to me like she’s considered killing him a few times herself.”
“I can’t see her going that far,” Jo said. “Besides, I’m sure she’s used to taking shit from the Culling Pointe set.”
“Wait—are you two serious?” They looked up to see Chase’s laughing eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Your games are boring,” Harriett told him.
“I’m not playing games. You really don’t know who Claude Marchand is?”
“The woman who plans Jackson Dunn’s parties,” Jo said.
Chase’s laugh was that of a man cursed by fate. “I spent all afternoon schmoozing my ass off and getting nowhere, and you two end up best friends with Claude and you don’t even know who she is?”
“This is getting tiresome,” Harriett said with an exaggerated yawn. “Enlighten us or shut up, would you?”
“She’s Antoine Marchand’s daughter.”
Harriett’s curiosity was sufficiently piqued. “Is she really?”
“And Leonard Shaw’s girlfriend,” Chase added.
“Yeah?” Jo said. “So what?”
“Leonard’s the king of Culling Pointe.”
“A retired finance dude I’ve never heard of is the king of Culling Pointe?” Jo scoffed.
“He’s the one who started the whole community. He built the first house here back in the nineties.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?” Jo couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. “The cuddly little mensch with all the hair on his chest?”
“Thatmenschis one of the richest men in the world,” Chase said. “And now you two appear to be besties with his longtime girlfriend.”
“Maybe we’ll put in a good word for you the next time we see her,” Harriett told him. Then she laughed. “Oh, who am I kidding? No fucking way.”
“Claude invited you back?” Chase winced as if the idea caused him physical pain.
