Page 98 of The Woman I’ve Become

I’m also willing to wager that calling Rick back is not a good thing. In view of the fact that no promised security detail from the local police has arrived, I’m convinced there is nothing to update except whatever plan Rick alone has devised to put an end to this shit show.

However this turns out, it won’t be because Rick or the FBI or the local police dove in to help. No, this will end however it ends because everyone dies, or at least certain characters die. I suspect I am supposed to be one of the latter.

I leave Phillip on a call with his campaign manager and look for Julia. I smell freshly brewed coffee before I see her. She’s at the island, having a cup as if the world isn’t falling apart around us.

She looks up. “Alicia is having another walk around outside.”

I want to ask her if she really trusts Alicia and this Brian. I am 100 percent certain they cannot trust Julia. I suppose the only option is to go along and see how it plays out.

“Good,” I reply as expected, then slide onto a stool.

I consider having a cup of coffee, but I’m already riding on a stream of adrenaline.

“You think Casey will come tonight?”

I wonder if Julia is asking because she fears he will be the death of us both, or if it’s because she has missed him. One is as likely as the other. “I don’t know why he would drag this out. We’re all here.”

If she has tried to contact him since her release from captivity, she failed. I know this for certain.

“Even with your husband around?” She watches me closely as if my response will tell her something more than the answer I give to her question. “And Rick—if he ever shows up?”

“I have no idea. We’ll just have to wait him out.” I stare at her then. “You know Casey better than I do, what do you think he’ll do?”

That’s right, put the gorilla on her back.

“I really don’t know him better,” she argues. “We were only a short-term thing, and I couldn’t wait to tell you the latest after each stolen moment.”

“You’re sticking with that story?” I challenge, can’t help myself. It’s a flat-out lie, and the very idea of it makes me furious.

“It’s the truth.” She says this with such sincerity, most anyone would just have to believe her.

I really can’t comprehend how she thought she could come back here and tell me all the untruths I have spotted just watching and listening to her and think I would swallow them all. I may not have a PhD, but she will never be as good as I am at running a scam. She never had to. I, on the other hand, had to perfect my game to survive at a very young age. In order to do that, you have to be able to read people. And I’m reading her like a book.

The only real question at this point is who will survive this night.

The sound of the doorbell is almost poetic.

So it begins.

“That,” I warn, “is probably Rick.”

I wonder why we didn’t hear from Alicia. Isn’t she supposed to be watching the driveway and giving us a heads-up on arrivals?

“I’ve got it!” Phillip calls out, evidently headed for the door.

Every instinct I possess alerts. The certainty that something terrible is about to happen seizes me, and I start in that direction, braced for the worst.

Phillip enters the code disarming the security system and opens the front door. Rick steps inside, and the two of them shake hands. I tell myself to relax.

As I move from the dining room in their direction, somewhere in the kitchen behind me I hear another door open but I can’t stop watching the scene in front of me. Can’t be certain what Rick will do. He remains a wild card.

I suddenly feel as if I’m far away from what’s happening. I can see it and hear it, but I can’t reach it or touch it. Part of my brain has gone on guard against a descending threat that I cannot identify. Yet I feel it to the marrow of my bones.

What is Rick up to? Was that Alicia who came into the kitchen just now? Uncertainty twists inside me.

Phillip locks the door and turns back to Rick.

A blast somewhere behind me splits the air, echoing deafeningly.