38 Suzy
Suzy
It’s all going to be fine, Suzy told herself, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She pulled her dark hair back into a low ponytail and secured it with a gold band. You’re getting out of here, and you’re going to put all of this behind you.
She looked down at her right hand, braced against the countertop, her stacked bejeweled rings glinting at her.
There were three deep scratches up her arm from Juliet’s nails.
Who was she kidding? She was never going to put this behind her.
For the rest of her life, she was never going to forget how it felt—Juliet’s arm slipping through her fingers as she fell.
The helplessness of that moment. But there was nothing she could have done.
Juliet had barely had control of her faculties.
She’d only found the notes because she’d snuck into Suzy’s room to steal her Xanax.
Who knew how many of them she’d taken, and what else she might have swallowed or smoked?
Resolving not to think about it, Suzy grabbed the gun out of the drawer to her right and shoved it into her crossbody. The very weight of it made her feel more secure.
“You ready?” she said to Sean.
He gave her a nod as he shoved his foot into his shoe. “Let’s get out of here.”
They picked up their bags, Suzy carrying Wintour in her crate, and slipped out into the hallway.
It was still relatively early, and Suzy was hoping no one else would be up.
But even if they were, she wasn’t going to let them stop her this time.
Hazel could suck it. She was in charge of her own life.
And all she wanted in the world was to get in the car and not stop driving until they arrived at the kids’ camp.
She intended to have Kasie and Elton in her arms before dinnertime.
It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine.
But when they got to the bottom of the stairs, it was pretty clear nothing was going to be fine. Marley stood at the doorway between the foyer and the great room, her arms crossed over her chest, a grim look on her face.
“You guys need to come in here,” she said.
Wintour started barking in alarm, which in and of itself was alarming. Wintour had never found Marley threatening before.
Suzy tried to hide her panic with an eye roll. “Marley, this is ridiculous. We’re leaving. There’s no reason to stay here. The police can set up an interview whenever.”
But then Marshall walked over and appealed to Sean. “We just need five minutes.”
Sean gave Suzy one of his helpless looks, and she groaned dramatically. Sometimes she wondered if Sean had ever stood up for himself or anyone else once in his entire life. She dropped the bags she was toting but kept her crossbody on her.
“Fine.”
They all walked into the great room together and saw that everyone was gathered on the couches and in the armchairs.
Gemma and Grant stood near the fireplace, and their daughters were nowhere in sight, but the rest of the group was seated.
Although she didn’t see Tini or Candice, Magdelena was over by the dining table, a breakfast spread laid out before her.
But her expression wasn’t at all welcoming.
Suzy’s heart began to pound an erratic beat in her chest. She bent and unzipped the crate, pulling Wintour out to try to calm her. Once in her arms, Wintour stopped barking, but her little body still trembled as she looked around at the assembly. “What is this, an intervention?”
When she said it, it occurred to her that Josh wasn’t there. Everyone but him.
“Where’s Josh?” she asked. Not that she cared, exactly. It was a stall tactic. But they couldn’t know, right? How could they possibly know?
“He’s passed out upstairs,” Marshall replied. “We thought it would be better if he wasn’t here for this.”
“Here for what, exactly?” Sean stepped up next to Suzy. She adjusted the dog in her arms, making sure Wintour hid the scratches in her skin. “Marshall, what’s going on?”
“We know what happened last night, Suzy,” Marley said, her voice laced with anger and grief. “We know you were there when Juliet died.”
Sean laughed. “What? You’re cracked.”
Suzy held Wintour tighter. She looked around at their faces. Lily, Daisy, Gemma, Grant, Marley, Marshall, Hazel, even Cole. They all stared back at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Suzy said. She glanced down at her crossbody. She’d left it unzipped. The gun was right there. She saw Sean clock it too, his eyes widening ever so slightly. “I was in the breakfast nook, reading. You all saw me come in.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. She had gotten up and come downstairs after lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for two hours while Sean snored next to her.
She had been in the breakfast nook, reading with a glass of wine, trying to distract herself enough so that she could sleep, when Juliet had texted her.
Come Upstairs. we need to talk.
And she had been back in the breakfast nook when Juliet had been found. They had all seen her come in from that direction. But in between, she had gone up to Juliet’s room. Learned it had been Juliet who found the three notes while looking for Suzy’s Xanax.
“What were you blackmailing Lincoln about?” Juliet had demanded, brandishing the note. “It was about me, wasn’t it? Me and Beckham. I trusted you, and you used me.”
Suzy had tried to calm her friend down. Had tried to explain.
Juliet had told her about the affair with Lincoln on the very same day she had found out that the Nantucket house was sinking.
Actually sinking into the earth. Global warming.
Water levels. Subsurface erosion. It was going to cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, on top of the millions they’d already paid for the house, to shore it up.
She loved that house. It was everything she had ever dreamed of, with its weathered shingles and its many gables and its wraparound porches and its sunset views.
But Sean hadn’t wanted it. Sean had, for once in his wishy-washy life, rallied against her.
And the only way she’d convinced him to let her buy it was by promising him that she wouldn’t spend a penny more on it than they’d agreed.
It was because he had put his foot down so adamantly that she knew she had to find another way.
She didn’t know what she was going to do.
But she couldn’t lose the house. And suddenly, this information had fallen into her lap.
Information she knew Lincoln would not want Hazel getting her hands on.
They had just gotten married. Just announced that they were going to have their own baby.
Hazel, who Suzy had only met a handful of times at that point, did not strike Suzy as the type of person who would shrug off this information.
She seemed more like the type of person who would demand a divorce, take Lincoln for every penny he was worth, and fix it so that he never saw his child again.
Lincoln, meanwhile, was sitting on billions of dollars he could never have used in his lifetime.
He could shore up the Nantucket house without breaking a sweat. It had seemed like a sign.
But Juliet wouldn’t listen to any of this. Suzy had tried to explain, but her friend just kept going on and on about trust and loyalty and backstabbing and moneygrubbing and selfishness and greed, and if the ocean wanted the house, she should let it take the house.
She was going to show the note to Sean and the others. She was going to tell them everything.
That was when Suzy had demanded the notes back.
And then everything had gone sideways. After Juliet had fallen, Suzy had run down the outdoor stairs, hoping to God Juliet was all right—that she’d somehow survived.
But she’d barely had time to pause before she heard the others shouting and running downstairs.
Instinct had kicked in, and, not wanting to be caught, she’d run across the patio and back into the breakfast nook just before Marley had reached the great room.
“Stop lying!” Marley shouted now, startling Suzy so thoroughly, she flinched.
“There’s video, Suzy,” Marshall said. “We all watched it.”
Suzy’s jaw dropped. “Video? What are you talking about?” No one said anything, but she saw Gemma and Grant exchange a look. “Oh, I see. So your girls have been spying on us this entire weekend? Is that it? What are they, following us around like little—”
“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Grant said, his voice a low rumble.
“We know what happened,” Lily said. “What we don’t know is why you lied. Why you acted like you thought one of us might have done it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Suzy said. “It was an accident.”
Sean gaped. “Suzy, what—”
“If there’s video, you know it was an accident,” Suzy continued. “Don’t try to recast it like I did something on purpose. Like I went up there to hurt her. I didn’t. I loved her.”
Her voice cracked and she turned around.
Turned away from them. Her eyes blurred with tears, and her knees shook like mad.
She couldn’t look at them anymore. At their accusing, angry, pitying faces.
She had to get out of here. She had to get out.
Wintour started barking again, and she put the dog back in her crate.
Reaching back for Sean’s hand, Suzy clasped it. She turned to look him in the eye. He glanced down, clocked the scratches on her arm, and paled.
“Sean,” she said. “We’re leaving.”
There must have been something in her eyes that made him see she wasn’t messing around. Instead of hemming and hawing like he normally would have, he nodded and rolled his shoulders back.
“Let’s go,” he said.
They took a few steps toward the door. They were just going to leave. These were her friends. They weren’t going to try to stop them. But then, she heard someone move, something shift behind them.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Marshall said, grasping Suzy’s shoulder from behind. His fingertips dug into her skin.
“Ow, Marshall, let go of me!”
In the half second that she and Marshall were struggling, Sean reached into Suzy’s open crossbody and pulled out the gun. He whirled around and pointed the barrel directly at Marshall’s chest.
“Let go of my wife.”
Marley screamed. Marshall staggered backward.
A few people gasped. The dog went berserk, barking her fool head off.
Lily shouted something, but Suzy’s ears were ringing too loudly to make it out.
She clutched her shoulder where Marshall had grabbed her and looked at her husband. Sean’s entire arm quaked.
“Sean, what are you doing?” Suzy asked quietly.
He seemed to realize how unsteady he was and changed his stance, holding the gun with both arms out straight, like a movie cop in a standoff. Wintour yipped and growled and snarled.
“I’m doing what you always tell me to do,” he said. “I’m manning the fuck up.”
Okay, so was it wrong that she was the slightest bit turned on by that?
“Sean, just put down the gun,” Marshall said, one hand out in a calming gesture. “We can all talk about this like adults.”
“Screw that,” Sean said. “Suzy wants to go, so we’re going to go. And I wouldn’t try to stop us again.”
And then the gun went off.