The Sister-in-Law by Pamela Crane (best books to read in your 20s .TXT) 📕

why my husband had decided to leave her a million and a half dollars. Certainly the sex couldn’t have been worth that much.

After a weak thank-you for all her help, I hung up and cried.

‘Damn it!’ I slammed my cell phone down on the kitchen counter, realizing I’d likely cracked my screen after the fact. I couldn’t take another lie, and now my cell phone had a splinter running up the corner.

‘How could you?’ I screamed, waiting for an answer from Ben’s ghost that would never come. With fists clenched, my wail grew into a solid wall of sound. I yelled until I ran out of voice.

While I threw my grownup-sized fit, Lane snuck up behind me and pulled me into a bear hug. Part of me wanted to shrug him off, punch him in the gut because I just wanted to hit something, but I knew I needed a hug more than a fist fight.

‘Hey, you okay?’ he asked.

‘Eff my life!’

‘Eff my life, huh? You must be pretty pissed to start talking teenager.’

I laughed as I cried, because Lane had a way of doing that to me. He could turn sobs into snorts. It was his gift.

‘What’s going on, Harp? If you’re about to have a mental breakdown, no one would blame you. You’ve been through a lot.’ He pulled out a barstool and sat beside me.

‘It’s everything, Lane. I just found out Ben’s mistress is listed on his life insurance policy for half of it. A million and a half dollars, Lane! I mean, why? What did she ever do for him other than a few months of screwing? I gave him my heart, my entire life, his children, his home … and that’s what he leaves me with? A final act of betrayal – seeing her name listed next to mine as if we’re equals! I don’t understand, Lane.’

I wept in Lane’s arms as he held me, my sobs soaking into his shirt. ‘It’s okay.’

It didn’t feel okay. Not even on the same continent as okay.

When I found my voice again, I looked up at him through the tears. ‘Everything is falling apart. And I got a call from Detective Meltzer, who wants me to come down to the station to discuss some “recent developments,” which I’m sure is code for an arrest warrant.’

‘Pornstache called you? What exactly did he say?’

‘He told me that Michelle Hudson was found dead in her home. Murdered.’

Lane’s eyes widened with shock. ‘Murdered? How?’

‘I don’t know. He won’t tell me, but I’m starting to wonder if Ben didn’t kill himself after all. Do you think someone killed him and staged it as a suicide – y’know, before we restaged it as a murder?’

‘You want me to be honest, Harp?’

I sensed our conversation was taking a deeply personal turn. ‘Always.’

He dropped his gaze to the marbled countertop, then sighed. ‘Ben wasn’t the man you thought he was. I know you know this, but it was worse than you can imagine. He hurt people, people who trusted him. Was it bad enough to get him killed? It’s possible. I’ve been wondering that since the night you called to tell me he had died.’

I had no idea what Lane was talking about, and that scared me terribly. ‘What kinds of things did he do? Am I in danger? And the kids?’

‘No, nothing like that, Harp. I just think the best thing for you, for the kids, would be to get as far away from all of this crap as you can. Forget the life insurance money, sell the house, and start over somewhere new.’

‘You’re starting to sound like Mom.’

Lane glanced up at me with an urgency. ‘Maybe Mom could go with you. She’s always wanted to retire in the Midwest with all that open space. It’d be a perfect place to raise kids.’

I shook my head. ‘Why the sudden push to run away? You’re talking nonsense.’ Unless it wasn’t nonsense. Unless Lane knew something I didn’t. Was Mom connected to Ben’s death?

He didn’t answer at first. Then the words came softly. ‘Because I’m afraid if you don’t leave, something bad is going to happen. I just want you safe.’

What if safe wasn’t possible? That thought plagued me daily. ‘It’s not like I can leave until the investigation is over. I’m scared, Lane. First Ben’s dead. Now Michelle. And after the baby’s death last year … what if the cops start thinking I’m some serial killer or something?’

‘Hey, take a breath. It’s okay. You’re innocent, which means they can’t prove you’ve done anything. And Kira’s death was already ruled an accident; there’s nothing they can pin on you. The only thing you could possibly get in trouble for is tampering with evidence, which would probably be a slap on the wrist. You’re not a killer. You’re a scared widow who lost her child last year, then did something stupid in a moment of panic when you found your husband dead. Who would ever want to convict you after all you’ve suffered?’

I may have appeared blameless on paper, but I didn’t feel innocent. ‘The only good thing about Michelle’s death is that she won’t be talking anymore.’

A curl of horror lifted Lane’s lip. ‘Did you really just say that? Who are you? I thought you liked that lady. You sound like you’re glad she’s dead.’

‘I’m not trying to be callous, Lane, but she could have put me in jail. I’m not happy she’s dead … but it does kind of relieve the burden a little.’

‘So you’d rather she die than you go to jail?’ His face was disappointment marred with judgment.

Two months ago, Lane was my salvation. Now he was my damnation.

‘Please don’t put words in my mouth. I’m not saying that. I’m already dealing with enough. I don’t need you adding more guilt to the circus of emotions I’m already feeling.’

The problem with evil was that it was sticky. It left a residue that you spent every waking moment trying to wipe off. But you couldn’t.