The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda (speld decodable readers txt) 📕

Hmmm. Has she come here to confront me? I haven’t done a thing. Been home all afternoon and evening, so there.

I duck away from the window and walk into the kitchen. I’m not in the mood to talk to her. Not now. I’ve had a long day. I’ll ignore the doorbell, and she’ll go away.

I wait for the doorbell to ring, but instead I hear the front door open—the locked front door.

“Hello? Who’s there?” I call, tamping down the fury. When John and I bought this house, he insisted Ashlyn have a copy of the key. She was “always welcome here because it’s her home, too,” he said. I make a note to change the locks.

“Hey, it’s me, Ashlyn. I didn’t know you were home. I just need to grab my things. Seth is going to help.” She waves at me as she heads down the hall to the stairs. Odd, she didn’t mention anything about her car. She must not have driven it yet. Her good old boyfriend saved the day apparently.

I hope she’s not up to something, coming here. I mean, she’s not clever. Maybe she wants to talk, you know, kick back and have fun like the good old days. No, that’s not what she wants. She thinks I hurt her dad. She’s just here for her things, with muscle waiting in the driveway. Ha.

As I stand in the kitchen waiting for her to leave, admiring her boyfriend’s biceps as he carries her stuff out to his car, oppressive heat pours from the ceiling vents. My house is out to get me again. I pull out my phone and find the icon for the app I downloaded last night. I thought I’d finally reset all of the thermostats. How can it be blasting heat again?

“Wow, it’s hot in here.” Ashlyn joins me in the kitchen. “Feels like hell.”

I push open the window above the kitchen sink and take a moment to conceal my frustration. “Yes, my thermostats have been on the fritz. And you know your dad. He wanted the smartest of smart homes. I guess it’s just outsmarting me.” I keep the tone light, but I’m seething. And then I get an idea. I’ll put this home on the market. I want a place that no one else has the key to. A place that’s all mine.

“Dad did love technology. You know he has all the apps on his phone. I may be able to help you.” She tilts her head. “Where’s his phone?”

Good question. Where is his phone? I don’t remember seeing it, or thinking about it, since the horribly long and boring memorial service. “It’s probably in my black Gucci. I haven’t used it since the funeral.” I assure myself as much as Ashlyn that I have it. “Do you know the password?”

“Of course.” She leans against the kitchen counter. “Don’t you?”

As a matter of fact I do, how else would I read all his texts? But I’m not telling her that’s the reason. “Of course I do. I’m just talking about the stupid apps, you know, the lights, the temperature, all the smart home stuff. I don’t have those passwords.” Why didn’t I think to find his darn phone sooner? I’ve been busy, and tired. So tired. My stupid house keeps me up all night.

“I know how to get into all the apps. You can go on his phone and turn down the heat. I’ll show you how. Where is it?” She’s persistent, I’ll give her that much. But why would she want to help me?

I’m trying to ignore the fact that his daughter has his app passwords, but his wife doesn’t. Moot point now, I know, but still.

“Let me go search for that purse. I’ll be right back. Is that Seth outside? Do you want to invite him in?”

“No. He’s fine in the car.” She seems to be favoring her left arm.

“Is something wrong with your arm?” I ask.

Her eyes narrow, and she shakes her head. “Nothing time won’t fix. My car freaked out while I was driving home.”

I keep my expression neutral and say a silent thank you to George. “Wow, that’s scary. You’re lucky you’re not really hurt. Electrical failures are so dangerous.”

“How did you know it was electrical?” Ashlyn asks. I’m not afraid of her. She’s a weenie, with empty threats.

“Just a lucky guess,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

As much as I hate leaving her alone in my kitchen, I need to be able to control my house, and if she can show me how to do it, it’s worth it. I hurry upstairs and pull open the door to my purse closet. Yes, an entire closet just for my purses. Can you even?

I grab the black Gucci and shove my hand inside. It’s empty. Maybe it was the black Chanel? I yank each and every black purse out of the closet and search them. Nothing.

I’m certain the memorial service was the last time I saw it. I’ve been so distracted by other things. Where is his phone? Did someone take his phone?

The familiar anger is beginning to build. I don’t need his damn phone. I’m selling this place soon. Good riddance.

Downstairs Ashlyn stands where I left her. Even if she searched my kitchen, she wouldn’t find anything. I’m not stupid. She’s texting and smiling. Is she making fun of me?

“No luck.”

“What do you mean no luck? You can’t find Dad’s phone?” Ashlyn asks.

I don’t really care where his phone is. I mean, the trade-in value is nothing. Why do I need an old phone around?

“I have no idea. I must have misplaced it. No big deal.” She needs to leave. I’m so tired of her right now. The way she’s looking at me is bothersome.

“He could have EventCo business on that phone, you know, and other secrets.” Ashlyn blinks at me. “At least all of his photos are on the cloud. He was such a great photographer.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes fill.

I need to be