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

to her. She’s wrong, right?” I ask George. I can’t believe I let her get under my skin.

“I haven’t heard that one, sugar,” George says.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I’m fine. Everything is good. I don’t have anything to hide.”

“That’s not true, sugar.” George gives a big laugh. He’s known me almost all my life. “I still see you reaching into my office candy jar, taking more than one piece, thinking you were getting away with something. So cute. Anyhoo, the good news is the will was filed before John croaked, so it makes it even harder to contest once the state has put a stamp of approval on it.”

Contest? “They can’t challenge it, can they?”

“Just got an electronic notification. An attorney for Ashlyn Nelson already filed on her behalf. But don’t worry, you’re in good shape. Get some sleep. You sound cranky.”

“What? That bitch was just here, at my house. That’s impossible. She has the nerve to file a lawsuit?” I’m astounded. “How did she do this?”

“Whoa, sugar. You would do the same thing if you were in her shoes. Remember, the new will cuts her out entirely, and she’s the only direct heir. I advised keeping her in, but you said no. And you’re the boss. I suppose the princess hired herself a lawyer.” George laughs again.

He did warn me I was being greedy. But now that she’s shown her true colors, I’m glad. “Screw her. We’re still fine, right?”

“You’re in great shape.” He’s still laughing.

I stand in my kitchen, and I know I should be happy. I have an avalanche of money coming my way. I should be filled with my love language. But instead I’m beyond cranky. And my house is pumping out heat like the fires of hell and will likely torture me again tonight. But at least the missing phone isn’t a big deal, according to George. I wanted to see what other photos John took when I wasn’t watching. But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead.

“Thanks,” I manage. “And George, don’t laugh at me again or I’ll find another attorney.”

“Oh, honey, that’s a good one,” George says and starts laughing again. “You and me are stuck together like peanut butter and jelly.”

CHAPTER 47

KATE

Once we were both home from Tish’s house unscathed, I felt a wave of relief.

I’d been ready to charge in there and grab my daughter, but she texted me the thumbs-up emoji telling me everything was fine. That was our agreement, text every five minutes. Nerve-racking. I wouldn’t put anything past Tish. I know what kind of woman she is. I see her clearly now. She murdered John.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Nelson. I had the light on in my cab so she could see me watching her every move, even in between trips inside,” Seth had said after escorting Ashlyn home. Once he left, Ashlyn was ready for more Tylenol and a good, albeit late, snack in bed.

Ashlyn didn’t find anything incriminating lying around the house, but she did tell Tish she never wanted to see her again and to get out of our lives. That had to be a stab in Tish’s cold heart. Is Tish worried? I hope so. Worried enough to leave town? Who knows? I also wonder how long she thinks she can play this game with the fake will. She has to feel the ground crumbling beneath her, because it is.

It’s good to keep your enemies off balance. It’s true in business—and in life, I’m learning.

I’ve done all I can for the moment, purchasing stock, getting Bob and the attorneys pursuing our legal recourses. I know who the witnesses were for the fake will, and how to find them when the time is right. For tonight, I’ll make sure Ashlyn is comfortable and safely tucked into bed.

“I’m going to miss you when you’re back at school,” I say as I carry a bowl of granola and a banana over to her in bed. Hot chamomile tea steams on her bedside table.

“Me, too. Need help with anything?” Ashlyn winces as she holds her left arm.

“No, all set. You’ve done so much. Thank you.” She really is lovely. I’m so lucky to be her mom. And she needs to see a doctor in the morning for an X-ray, despite what she says.

“What?” Ashlyn asks.

Did I speak out loud? “I was just thinking I’m so lucky to be your mom. And we need to get that arm x-rayed in the morning.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. But I told you they don’t do anything for elbows, even if it’s broken.” Ashlyn takes a bite of cereal. “Yum.”

“If you want to tell me anything else about your visit to Tish’s house, I’m all ears,” I say, even though I know I should leave it alone for tonight.

“See, you can’t help yourself, Mom. It’s in your DNA. You were meant to run a company. I’m proud of you. I am. And I wish Tish would just go away.” She takes another bite.

“All of this happened to you, too. I just wish we had some more proof. Proof he was leaving Tish, and even more so, proof she put something in his drink. And of course, the ridiculous new will. I ordered a copy of the autopsy report from Colorado.”

“Why? If they had found anything, they would have flagged it,” Ashlyn says.

Still, I need to take a closer look. Perhaps hire an expert to review it. “Maybe, but people miss things all the time, overlook what’s right in front of them.”

Ashlyn covers a yawn. “I looked around when I was there, like I told you, but there wasn’t a bottle with a skull and crossbones sitting on the kitchen counter.”

“Very funny.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it was about ninety degrees inside her house, and just about now, the music will start blaring.” Ashlyn is holding her dad’s phone and grinning.

“You’re bad. You probably shouldn’t,” I say. “But I love it. I do.”

“She almost