“It wasn’t my fault. Anton threatened to kill me if I said anything.”
Gwen scoffs. “You’re kidding, right?”
Lisa blinks twice, and as if by magic her face rearranges itself into one of fear. “I was scared for my life, Gwen.” Her voice trembles. “He slammed me up against a wall. He put his hands around my neck and choked me.” She looks away and sniffs. “He told me he would kill me.”
“You have got to be kidding me. You seriously think anyone will fall for your act?”
Lisa grabs the wineglass and takes a swig. “Oh, I think so. If I were you, I’d be more worried about what people will say about you when they learn that your husband was a liar, and a criminal, and violent, too. That he threatened a woman’s life. Are you an enabler, Gwen? That’s pretty sick.”
“You’re a complete psychopath, aren’t you? I never understood why Aimee put up with you. You’re like a stray dog she felt sorry for—”
“Shut up, Gwen. I fucked your husband in this room.”
“No, it’s true,” Gwen continues. “Everyone thought so. We all felt so sorry for Marcus, he’s such a nice guy. We all talked about you behind your back, you know. How hard you tried. Always trying to get our attention. That leopard-print bikini at the pool? I mean, c’mon, Lisa. Pathetic.”
“You’re such a cold bitch. No wonder Anton stepped out on you.”
“Hope you’ve enjoyed your life, Lisa. Because when I tell people that you knew, your life is over. Aimee will never speak to you again. You may end up going to jail.”
“I’m not going to let you do that.”
“Thing is, you can’t stop me,” Gwen says. “I’m done here. I’m leaving. You can stay and lock up.”
She turns her back to Lisa and begins to walk to the front door. She’s halfway through the living room when something strikes her in the back of her head. Gwen staggers forward, woozy, and collapses on the couch. She touches the back of her head, feeling something wet, and looks at her fingers. Blood. She looks up to see Lisa standing over her, one of the pewter candlesticks hanging by her side.
“What are you doing?” Gwen gasps.
“I can’t let you tell Aimee.” She steps closer. “I told Anton the same thing, and he didn’t listen, either.”
“What do you mean, Anton didn’t listen?” Gwen blinks as the room starts to sway. “Are you saying—”
“I saw him follow Scott. I knew what he was going to do. He was going to tell him. He was going to destroy me. I had to stop him.”
“You murdered Anton.” Gwen struggles to stand up. She needs to get out of here. But Lisa stands between her and the door.
“You mean that cheating, lying, piece-of-shit husband of yours? You call that murder? I call that a service. I did you a favor! You’re free.” Her voice is shrill and there’s a wild look in her eyes. “You should be on your knees thanking me, instead of acting like the bitch that you are.” She raises the candlestick again, but this time Gwen bends forward and rams into the middle of Lisa’s body, tackling her. They fall on the floor, struggling, and Gwen winds up on her back, Lisa straddling her. Lisa’s hands are around her neck, and Gwen opens her mouth, desperate for air, gasping.
She tries to pry Lisa’s fingers off but can’t get a grip. Her right arm flails out to her side and hits something metal. The candlestick. She gropes around until she has it firmly in her hand andthen swings it up, catching Lisa on the side of her head. Lisa sways, her grip loosens. Again, Gwen swings the candlestick, making contact this time with Lisa’s forehead with a sickening thud. Lisa collapses on top of her, and Gwen pushes her body away.
She lies there for a moment, fighting to catch her breath. After a while, she sits up, dizzy, and looks at Lisa’s crumpled form.
She puts two fingers to Lisa’s neck, knowing before she does that there is no point.
48
NOW
Aimee is sitting on her bed, detangling Noa’s hair, when the whoop of a police siren startles her. Red lights coming from the street outside bounce off the walls of the room. Her body quivers. She can’t handle any more bad news today. She still hasn’t processed what Scott told her this afternoon.
“What is that?” Noa asks.
“Hold on, sweetie.” She pats Noa’s head and goes to the window. Peering out, she can see two police cars arriving, followed by an ambulance. They pull up haphazardly, taking up much of the cul-de-sac, but it is obvious they are heading to Gwen’s house. The relief she feels is slight.
“What’s going on?” Noa appears beside her. She cups her hands around her eyes and presses them to the window. Max and Benji rush in, yelling about the sirens. They join their sister at the window.
“Is it Santa?” Benji asks, breathless.
“It’s not Christmas.” Noa looks up at Aimee. “Right, Mom? It’s not Santa, is it?”