He’s not wrong there.
“Honestly, Christian, I don’t care about your apology. Right now, I care about this house—all the memories I have here—and Taylor’s school. And I do care about our family. I know you have an addiction, and maybe that’s manifested in some sort of gambling problem involving our assets. You certainly have a problem with truthfulness as well, but you need to sort all that out yourself. The bottom line, Christian, is you need to fix what you’ve broken. I mean it. Fix itnow.”
Julia ended the call without a goodbye, feeling strangely energized. Surprisingly, empowerment felt more intoxicating than Erika’s Lake Escape cocktail.
She turned her attention to her laptop, where she found her résumé in a folder that would have been covered in dust if it hadn’t been a digital archive. It was strange to see an accounting of her life before she climbed aboard Christian’s entrepreneurial rocket ship to nowhere. Now it was time to get back into her own vehicle. She was good at running organizations and loved nonprofit work, but her skills were portable. She could look for work in the corporate world that might pay better. It wasn’t going to save the lake house, but it would give her back some of her dignity. After Julia fired off her résumé to a few choice contacts she found on LinkedIn, she heard a knock at the door.
She went to answer it, but hesitated when she saw David through the window, standing on her doorstep holding a bottle of wine in each hand. She steadied herself before opening the door. He greeted her with a smarmy smile.
“Erika is with the kids, Taylor and Izzy are off somewhere—we’ve got some time,” he said with a glint in his eyes.
Julia didn’t invite him in.
“I went to Bennington to look for Fiona,” she told him.
David seemed genuinely confused. Julia put it together quickly.
“You didn’t know she was from there, did you?”
“What? No. She’s from New York City.” David sounded quite sure of himself.
“You can check her high school transcript if you’d like, but I happen to know for a fact that she’s from Bennington and does her dry cleaning at Kelly’s, at least according to the ticket I found in the Porsche.”
Julia had never seen the color drain from someone’s face as rapidly as it did from David’s. He might have passed out if she told him Fiona was also Jimmy T’s daughter, but she held that ace close to the vest. It was possible he already knew, but she suspected he didn’t. He wouldn’t have let a woman with a vendetta get that close to him. Besides, with David’s Mob connections, she felt safer keeping some information to herself. However, other tidbits were too compelling not to share.
“And I’ve also found out that you, David Dunne, are into underground porn. I know that your talent scout business is nothing but a front for illicit adult websites.” Julia couldn’t mask her disgust. “Revenge porn? Really, David! How could you?”
He stammered, looking like a fool, his jaw moving but no words exiting his mouth.
“Let me be blunt,” Julia continued, her tone clipped. “My body is hereby and forevermore off-limits to you. And if I find any videos of our past escapade on one of your websites, I swear to God, I will use a hot poker instead of the law to teach you a lessonsoinstructive you’ll be shitting out of a catheter for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?”
For the second time in less than an hour, a man answered her question with the same single word: “Crystal.”
“I can’t trust you, David. And don’t bother trying to defend yourself, because I’m not interested. I’m solving my own problems from now on. I don’t need your coercion, your money, or anythingat all from you. Somehow, some way, I promise I will come out on top, and I’ll do it onmyterms.”
With that, Julia closed the door in David’s face, and for the first time since coming to the lake, she finally had something to feel good about on vacation.
Chapter 36
Izzy
I love anything with ginger, but can’t bring myself to drink the tea Grace pours. I’m too nervous. My hands are so shaky, I’m afraid I might drop the mug and break something else of hers.
Meanwhile, Grace’s home enchants Taylor, who doesn’t seem anxious at all. With wide eyes, she takes in the dried herbs decorating the kitchen walls, the rough-hewn shelves lined with glass jars reflecting the afternoon light, the exposed wooden beams overhead, and the faded rugs where Nutmeg has found a comfortable resting place. (Winston, Grace’s tabby cat, has likely found a dog-free spot elsewhere.) It feels like we’ve stepped into a fairy tale—though not one destined for a happy ending. At the moment, I believe my boss is a murderer, and I have no way to prove it.
I don’t know how to begin.
Thankfully, Grace jump-starts the conversation.
“So, Izzy, did you notice anything unusual about the box?” Her voice cuts through the air. Her eyes are fixed on me, waiting for my response.
I recall the understanding that passed between us, but apparently, she wants confirmation that we’re on the same page.
“Yeah, I noticed something,” I say, my focus drifting out the window. “Actually, Lucas found the hidden compartment when he fixed the clasp.”
Grace nods, but her expression reveals nothing. “Lucas is the boy who left you in the woods?” she asks.
“I don’t think it was intentional,” I say. “And I guess it was kind of fortunate, because I wouldn’t have met you otherwise… and I wouldn’t have found the photograph.”
