Chapter 31
I reheat chicken cacciatore and prepare a simple green salad.
Then I crush the five pills I swiped from Marie into the half bottle of red wine that’s left from last night.
I dip my lips in it, just to check. It definitely tastes more bitter than usual.
I smother the green salad with vinegar. I’ll blame the taste on that, if he asks.
I walk into the dining room with the steaming plates. Roy is already seated, scrolling through his phone.
“I would have prepared something nicer, but I didn’t have the time. I hope it’s all right.”
I set down the plates, then serve the wine. Roy looks at me with a vague, beatific look on his face before poking at a bit of chicken with his fork.
“Did you have a good day?” I ask.
“Mmm.”
“That’s nice. Here, have some salad.”
I pile it on his plate. He lifts his hand.
“That’s enough salad, thank you.”
“I know how much you like it. And how is the chicken?”
“Delicious.” He takes a sip of wine.
“Is the wine all right?”
“Very nice.”
We eat mostly in silence, peppered only by my innocuous questions. What a wild wind that was today, wasn’t it? Did you know they’re now stocking Australian wines at the grocery? By the way, that book you gave me? Gripping. I couldn’t put it down.
Then he says, “I’ve got some work to do before I go to bed. I’ll be in my office.”
I put my napkin down on the table. “I’m actually very tired. I think I’ll go up now.”
I leave the washing up to Marie after all and go up the stairs.
I wait for twenty minutes, then I go back downstairs quietly and find Roy snoring in his armchair, a book on his lap, his head lolled to the side. His phone is on the arm of the chair. I pick it up slowly, swipe my finger up the screen, and point it at his face.
Magic.
I scroll through his contacts until I find Veronica’s home address under Vee. She lives in Sherman Oaks, which is only about ten minutes from here. I check the time. 8:35 p.m. I type a text from Roy’s phone.
I can come earlier. Say in half an hour?
I can’t wait. I have so much to tell you. XX
I delete the texts and put the phone back where it was. I realize that if Veronica is expecting Roy and I turn up instead, it’s unlikely she will let me inside her house. Therefore, I need a disguise.
Roy’s baseball cap is hanging by the front door. I grab it, along with his sunglasses, even though it’s obviously dark out. I also grab his leather jacket and gloves from the closet and the keys to his Lexus.
To improve my chances in convincing her to leave Roy alone, I decide to bring our wedding album. Anyone looking through those tender photographs would have to agree that we make a beautiful couple, and what kind of heartless person would want to break up a love story like that?
I get changed into jeans and sneakers, then shrug on Roy’s leather jacket. I am swimming in it, but it can’t be helped and it’s better than nothing. I put on his baseball cap and then, on impulse, I leave my own phone in a drawer in the kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later, I stand outside a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac high up off Beverly Glen Canyon.
The porch light comes on as I slowly drive up the driveway. I turn off the motor, readjust my cap, grab my wedding album, and step out of the car just as a tall, thin woman opens the front door.
She smiles. “Roy?”
I’m going to be sick. I take off the stupid sunglasses.
“What the hell, Erin?”