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Eliza Tate: Because I loved him.
Prosecution: Why did you kill him?
TWENTY-TWO
Five Months Before
September 2018
You owe me,” Anne said as she plunked herself down at the table across from Eliza. “I had to pay the valet fee today because I was running so late. Their rates are pure theft.”
“No, it’s the Pelican Hotel,” Eliza said. “Your coffee’s on me. Will that help you to stop whining?”
“Damn right it is.” Anne shifted her glasses lower. “I want the biggest, most expensive coffee that’s legal, and then I’ll consider us even.”
Eliza repeated the order verbatim to a waiting server, studying Anne as she wiggled into her seat. Anne’s gaze flicked toward the doors of the hotel almost uncomfortably, and Eliza wondered if the location held bad memories for her, too. Anne had argued against meeting at the hotel’s lobby café, but Eliza had assumed the argument had more to do with the financial end of the spectrum than anything else.
“What’d you want to talk about?” Anne asked, sounding agitated. As if she were ready to get the check before her beverage had even arrived.
“I just thought it’d be good to catch up,” Eliza said. “What with me venturing out on my own at the company and you…well, having four children, it’s been ages since we got together without a specific reason.”
“Well, I have to pay a sitter every time I leave the house these days since Mark is hardly around, and I can’t afford that, so… I suppose you could swing by for coffee if you’re bored, but you’ll have to take an aspirin to avoid a headache with how screechy the twins have been lately.”
“Sounds relaxing,” Eliza said. “Maybe you should hire a babysitter more. You liked that Penny, didn’t you?”
“Yes, thanks again,” Anne said, warming to the topic as Eliza had hoped she would. “That woman has been a lifesaver. But she still costs money.”
“What do you think about her?” Eliza asked. “As a person?”
“Who, Penny?”
Eliza nodded.
“I don’t know. She seems great with the kids. She doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask too many questions. I think she steals some of our food, but hey, better she eat our old Doritos than me. My ass doesn’t need the carbs.”
“She steals food? Isn’t that”—Eliza hesitated—“wrong?”
“I dunno,” Anne said. “I tell her to help herself to anything in the fridge or pantry. I just figured, you know, she probably didn’t mow through an entire family-sized pack of chips at once, which means she probably shoved the bag in her purse or something. Who cares? She’s broke.”
“Most people in Roman’s classes are,” Eliza said dryly. “Nature of the business.”
“Why do you ask?” Anne pressed. “I’m not mad at you or anything for the referral. I’ll sacrifice a bag of chips any day for a woman who’s good with the kids and doesn’t charge an arm and a leg to watch them.”
“No reason.”
“Bullshit,” Anne called. “You always have a reason. Did Penny say something to Roman about us? For Pete’s sake, did Mark try to get her to tattle on me, too?”
“Tattle on you?”
“Forget it,” Anne said. “Why do you care about Penny?”
Eliza glanced upward at the hotel, noting the open balconies, the couples lounging on their private terraces, the soft clink of silverware from overhead as hotel guests enjoyed their breakfasts. Is my husband one of them? Eliza wondered. Is Penny?
“I’ve found some receipts,” Eliza admitted. “Receipts for rooms at the Pelican Hotel.”
“You’re kidding me.” Anne tipped her glasses all the way off her face and squinted upward.
For a moment, Eliza wondered if her friend would shout out Roman’s name to the rooftop. Eliza wasn’t sure she’d have stopped her if she did, but eventually, Anne turned her attention back to earth as the server appeared with two large lattes frothed to perfection.
