“I’d found out a few things . . . stuff she said, and it was pretty clear to me she’d attached herself to him because of his money. So . . . I kept quiet.”
Laura waited for Isabella to speak. “Say something. . . .”
“I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe . . . I mean, I can understand you wanting some time with Daniel . . . but,Laura . . .”
Laura’s head fell into her hands. “Oh, God, don’t, don’t . . . I’ve made such a mess of things.”
“Okay, okay. It’s fine. We can fix this.”
“Can we? How?”
“What you did . . . was appalling. But I remember how terrible it was for you, how desperate the situation was. What does Daniel think about this?” asked Isabella carefully.
It took a moment for Laura to answer. “I haven’t spoken to him in nearly two months.”
Isabella reached across the kitchen table and gave her hand a squeeze, something for which Laura would be forever grateful.
“My God.A dead puppy.I mean, this girl, is she mad?”
“Mad . . . clever . . . extremely focused. I don’t know. Probably all three. But she’s got it in for me and I don’t know what to do. I’m scared to go home.”
“I take it Howard’s not there? Have you told him about all this?”
“Some of it. It wouldn’t make any difference.” Laura spoke over her friend’s look of exasperation. “Anyway, I don’t want him there.”
“Have you told the police?”
“Yes. They can’t do anything. The actress doesn’t want any publicity and is denying it. She’s left for a sojourn in Ibiza. And the letter Marianne got that was supposedly written by me—well, she still claims it was written by me.”
Isabella’s eyes widened. “Cherryforgeda letter? What did it say?”
“Oh, just nasty, venting stuff. The kind of thing someone who’d been cheated on for years might want to say. It made Howard realize that time was a-wasting. He’s decided to seize the moment. He wants a divorce.”
“The bastard,” muttered Isabella.
“And . . . I confronted her.”
“Who?Cherry?What did she say?”
“She told me to back off. Or more bad luck would be coming my way.”
“Jesus! She’s insane. Who does she think she is? She’s just somekid,for Christ’s sake. Same age as ours. My God, if Brigitte ever tried anything like this . . .” Isabella took a deep breath. Gave Laura a look of condolence, of pity, a look that made her feel quite alone. “Oh, Laura . . .”
“I know,” she said quickly. “I know I did something awful . . . ,” she trailed off, wanting to ask Isabella if she’d have done the same, but was afraid of the answer. “I don’t know what to do,” she said helplessly.
“Can you try to speak to Daniel again?”
“He won’t. Believe me, I’ve tried. And written. I think she intercepted the letter.”
Isabella’s phone rang on the table. She glanced at the screen. “Mother.”
“You have to go.”
She nodded awkwardly and sent the call to voice mail. “I’ll call her back in a minute.”
Laura stood and blew her nose as she took her cup to the sink.
“Don’t rush.”
