Chapter 30 Andrea Kendal
Andrea Kendal
“Everyone says that Andrea and Roxanne are polar opposites, but I’m not surprised that they both appealed to Eric.
Even though they have a completely different look, they both have a sort of even temperament, and I think that’s what he likes.
I’m not sure I’d call it subservient, but that’s kind of what it is.
Andrea lets him take the lead, from what little I’ve seen of her. And Roxanne was definitely like that.”
Call Me as Soon as You Have a Break. Urgent but Not Life-Threatening.
Andrea sent the text and watched as it delivered. She placed the cell phone on the counter and double-checked that the ringer was turned on. Depending on the surgery and how long ago it had started, Eric might be busy for another three to eight hours.
She’d go mad before then. She wasn’t sure she’d even be able to last fifteen minutes.
She opened cabinets, looking through the different medications, scanning the bottles for something—anything—that might calm her nerves.
There was a bottle of anti-nausea medicine left over from one of her surgeries, and she unscrewed the lid and shook out a pill.
She stared at it for a long moment, the white round pill in the middle of her palm. It’d take the edge off. More than that, it would put her in a deep sleep that would last three or four hours, easy.
She returned the pill to the bottle and went to the fridge instead. Opening the double doors, she stared at the contents, then began pulling out items.
She might not have control over her past, the police, her husband’s availability, or her anxiety—but she could cook, and everyone in this house would, at some point, need to eat.
She put a block of cheddar cheese and a stick of butter to the side, aware that Cameron would want a snack as soon as he started to smell the food. A grilled cheese sandwich would keep him happy, at least until the soup was ready.
Ryder rattled by, his socked feet giving him freedom to explore the kitchen in his roller chair.
The wheels were loud on the tile floor, but she liked the sound.
More so, she liked how happy the activity made him.
Leaning to the far right, she put eyes on Cameron, who was lying on the couch, his favorite cartoon on the TV.
Andrea pulled open the linen drawer and chose a jute apron. After looping the strap over her head, she wrapped the red ties around her waist and knotted them in the back.
While she normally didn’t allow Cameron to watch TV during the day, she was in desperate need of some peace right now .
. . some peace to think. And her husband.
While she would never begrudge Eric for his job .
. . her heart was currently pounding in alarm, and her heart was as important as anyone’s, right?
Maybe more so, given the ring on her finger.
She opened the meat drawer and withdrew the paper parcel labeled Beef Short Ribs. Unrolling the package on the cutting board, she grabbed a butcher knife out of the block and started slicing the ribs at their seams, separating them into two-inch sections.
She’d make a Taiwanese-style French onion beef-noodle soup.
It was one of Eric’s favorite dishes, one that she’d had in mind when picking out the short ribs from the butcher.
She pulled out the red Dutch oven and drizzled a little oil in the bottom, then set it to heat.
Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she opened the spice drawer and started to stack the appropriate bottles on the counter.
Her phone rang and she dropped the salt grinder and spun toward her phone, wiping her hands on the apron before answering it. “Hello?”
“Andrea, it’s Walter.” Their attorney’s brusque New York accent was like salve to her open stress wound, and she closed her eyes in appreciation at the sound of his voice.
“Hi. Thanks for calling me back.” She leaned against the cabinet and watched as Ryder grabbed hold of the corner of the cabinet and used it to pull himself forward. She broke a piece of cheddar cheese off the block and held it out to him, beckoning him to come to it.
“Of course. What’s going on?”
She recapped the police’s visit, and when she finished, there was a long moment of silence. “They told you to come also?” he asked. “For questioning?”
“Yes. Well, um. He said I might as well come also. Just to be safe.”
“He didn’t read you your Miranda rights?”
“No,” she said, her alarm rising at the tight tone of his voice.
“Is that what they’re going to do at the station?
I mean . . .” She lowered her voice and stepped around the corner to shield the conversation from Cameron.
Behind her, Ryder shrieked in annoyance, his journey to her almost complete.
“Am I—are we suspects? Is that what you’re saying?
” She stepped back and handed Ryder the piece of cheese.
They could not be suspects, not after so many years had passed.
She’d thought they were in the clear after all this time.
She had already relaxed, begun to enjoy life, and now, just as everything was fine, it was crashing down.
Unacceptable. Eric had promised her that this wouldn’t happen. He had sworn it, and now he wasn’t even available to help her through this conversation. She pinched the bridge of her nose. At the stove, the oil popped and began to smoke.
“I’m not saying that you’re suspects, but you need to know that the police are not your friends. No one is your friend, even those that you think are. No one owes you confidence or loyalty except for me. Not even Eric, though I certainly think you two are in the same corner on this.”
Andrea reached out and turned the burner off. “I can’t get a hold of him. He’s in surgery. The cop said that isn’t an excuse, that he needs to come in as soon as possible.”
“I’ll deal with that, and with getting in touch with Eric. And you—hold off on going anywhere until you hear from me. Stay at home and keep your mouth shut. Don’t call or talk to anyone.”
Andrea thought of yesterday, her time with Kisi. Not that she had been planning to call her, but now the only thing she wanted was to tell Kisi what was going on and to get her take on it. She nodded, then wet her lips and spoke. “Okay. Don’t call anyone or talk to anyone.”
“I’ll call you back,” he promised, and she knew he would. Walter always kept his promises. He might not be able to keep them out of jail, but he would call her back.
She thought of the promise he had made to her five years ago, when he promised both her and Eric that no one would ever find out what they had done. That promise, above all others, was what she needed him, right now, to keep.