Chapter 17
CHAPTER
Tara
One Year Ago
BY THE TIME Tara and Sophie arrived at the Witch Walk, they had just missed the zombie flash mob dance in Congress Park.
The event was so busy, they’d had to wait for one of the small buses to transport them from the parking area to the grassy area near the fountain where the zombie antics were to take place.
But even as they hurried over they heard the dance music come to an end and spontaneous applause break out among the gathered onlookers.
“Don’t let on that we were late,” Sophie warned Tara quietly as the dancers melted back into the crowd. “Charlotte would be disappointed if she thinks we didn’t see her.” Then, raising her voice, she waved to a tall blonde, the teenage version of herself. “Charlotte, darling. Over here.”
Tara schooled her features into a happy greeting even as she wondered if all mothers told lies to keep the household peace.
She could envision Lauren doing so with ease, of course.
But her memories of her birth mother long ago were much different.
She’d been warm and kind though she hadn’t sugarcoated the truth when it came time to share her cancer diagnosis with Tara.
“Hi, Mom! Hi, Auntie T.” Even through pale face makeup, Charlotte’s cheeks were flushed from pleasure or maybe exertion. She wore a tattered dress with ripped stockings and high boots. “What did you think?”
“You were wonderful,” Sophie assured her, enveloping her in a hug. “The best zombie out there.”
Tara took a turn hugging her friend’s daughter. Unable to bring herself to tell an outright lie, she stuck with something innocuous. “Such a fun song to dance to.”
“Right? Mom, we’re going to walk down Broadway then go to Kennedy’s house for a few, okay?” Charlotte beamed while a handful of friends surrounded her to offer congrats and show her photos they’d taken.
“That’s fine, but be home by ten,” Sophie reminded her. “You have morning sprints.”
Some of Charlotte’s shine diminished, but she nodded. “Of course. I won’t be late.”
“And stick together. All of you.” Sophie’s voice had an edge. She paused, as if to let the gravity of her warning sink in. “You can’t be too careful.”
Charlotte nodded. “I know. I will, Mom.”
“Char, wait up.” Sareena Chamoun rushed past them, also dressed in zombie rags and face makeup. “I’m coming too.”
The teens wandered off together while Fatima appeared at Sophie’s elbow. She wore wide-legged purple pants with black cats embroidered around the hem.
“You do not fool me, Ms. Durand. You did not see one second of the performance.”
The other book club members materialized around them, all garbed in varying degrees of witchiness. Brad swooped in, Merlin-style, his dark gray robes and wooden walking stick making him look like he’d just walked off the famous Led Zeppelin album.
“I invoke my Fifth Amendment right,” Sophie told Fatima serenely. “Now, where are we headed?”
Destiny stepped forward to point the way toward a local landmark.
She wore a silver crown with spikes and a high-necked cape over a purple dress like the evil queen from Snow White.
“The Canfield Casino is open for another half hour. Let’s grab drinks at the bar and then check out the band at Caroline Street Pub. ”
“Sounds like a plan.” Kaitlin gave a thumbs-up before looping her arm through Mei’s to start walking in that direction.
Mei’s headless bride costume made her seem six and a half feet tall. She must have been looking out through the neck of the bridal dress while she held a doll’s head under one arm.
Tara would have complimented the originality of the outfit if Mei hadn’t immediately turned away from her.
Clearly Mei was still nursing a grudge in the mistaken belief Tara had spent time with her husband.
The rebuff hurt, but Tara knew she should be using this time to confront Sophie anyhow.
She’d been too freaked out by seeing the damned dress in Sophie’s closet to come up with a way to broach the subject on their ride over to the Witch Walk. But maybe now was the right time.
She hastened her step to catch up with Sophie as the group headed toward the three-story Renaissance Revival structure that had been a landmark since its construction over one hundred and fifty years ago.
The building often appeared on ghosthunters’ lists for one of the most haunted places in the United States, which was probably why the city had opened the venue for the Witch Walk.
“Tara, I want you to meet someone.” Fatima’s voice halted her just before she reached Sophie.
Turning, Tara saw Fatima next to a pretty stranger, a petite blonde with brown eyes and elfin features, dressed like a steampunk witch.
She wore a black top hat covered in black feathers with a band of silver gears around the brim.
A velvet choker with a pendant shaped like an alarm clock hung around her throat.
“I love your outfit,” Tara exclaimed, admiring the black gown that looked like it came out of an authentic Victorian dress shop as opposed to a fast-fashion factory. Belatedly she stuck out her hand and smiled. “I’m Tara Hughes.”
“Gina Vallot.” The other woman squeezed her hand briefly, her expression inscrutable. “It’s really nice to meet you. I met Fatima at a 10K race a couple of weeks ago, and she invited me to your book club.”
Something about her inflection hinted that she wasn’t from New York. Not quite southern. Not quite northern either. But she spoke so softly it was hard to tell.
“Gina sacrificed her race time to help me when I turned my ankle,” Fatima explained. “I would probably still be limping home, if she hadn’t offered me an arm.”
“That was good of you.” Tara made idle chitchat for another few minutes, all the while keeping an eye on Sophie to see when she could corner her privately about that dress hidden in her closet.
Gina spoke of being a Florida transplant and house hunting while renting a local condo.
Apparently she worked as an independent stylist and had scored some jobs helping notable women in the area with their wardrobes.
Tara would have been more interested in talking fashion with her if she hadn’t been stressing about the conversation with Sophie.
Lately it seemed like relationship after relationship went up in flames for her because Tara avoided confrontation at all costs.
She’d delayed questioning her mom about the events that had led to her dissociative episode because she’d known it would upset her.
She hadn’t stood up to Sophie about her questionable ethical decisions on The Clean Break for the same reason, and it had taken a significant toll on her relationship with Kaitlin after Sophie had cut her out of the show.
She suspected Brad harbored ill will too, though he went through the outward motions of friendship with her.
Now, this thing with Mei.
So when Luke left Sophie’s side, Tara spotted her chance.
“I can’t wait to talk more at book club,” she assured Gina, hoping Fatima didn’t think she was being rude. “But I just remembered a business item I forgot to mention to Sophie earlier today. Will you excuse me?”
“Of course. No worries.” Gina replied in her soft voice with a wave of her lace-gloved hand. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming year, I hope.”
As Tara slipped away, she could hear Fatima explaining to Gina about the podcast, which Tara appreciated. At least with Gina, Tara would have a clean slate to try and forge a friendly relationship.
She caught up to Sophie while she stood in front of a book shop window strung with lights in the shape of skulls and pumpkins. As she reached her friend’s side, Luke’s words ran through her mind like a warning.
My wife is ten steps ahead of you.
“Hey, Soph, I wanted to ask you about something.” Tara took the same approach now that she had with her parents.
Dive right in. Don’t give herself time to get even more nervous than she already felt.
“Mei showed me a photograph of a woman with Nikolai who looked a little like me because of a dress she was wearing.”
Sophie didn’t even glance up from the display. She pointed toward a gray leather journal in the store window. “That one’s pretty.”
Irritation fired through her. “Mei is angry with me, even though the woman in the photograph wasn’t me.”
Now Sophie straightened from her scrutiny of the merchandise. She met Tara’s gaze. “I’m sure she’ll get over it. As you pointed out, that wasn’t even you in the photo.”
It took all her courage to continue.
“I have reason to believe you’re the one in that photo, Sophie. I saw the same green dress in your closet tonight when I retrieved your cape for you.” Relieved to have the accusation in the open, she braced herself for whatever excuse Sophie made.
She was not prepared for Sophie’s amused laughter.
“As if I had any need of a man like Nikolai Moskol in my life. No offense to Mei, of course.” Turning on her heel, she resumed walking.
Tara did too. She felt flustered and ill-equipped to deal with her friend. Or could she even call her that anymore? Maybe Luke had a point when he warned her that his wife was going to run Tara out of their shared business.
“Whether or not you need him is beside the point. Why would you dress up as me? Even your hair was the same color as mine.”
“Women play dress up all the time.” Sophie tugged on her cape to illustrate her point. “But I’ll keep in mind that you have the market cornered on red hair and green dresses in the future, okay?”
Was that an admission?
Breathing deeply and exhaling slowly, Tara struggled to remain calm. She worked hard to channel the voice of her therapist before her anxiety turned to panic.
“It’s far from okay. I don’t understand why you would deliberately disguise yourself to look like me to spend time with a married man.”
For a long moment, Sophie didn’t respond. But when they came to the intersection with Caroline Street and the group ahead of them turned down it toward the pub, Sophie finally spoke.
“I’m not saying it was me. But given how inclined you are to toy with other women’s husbands, perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to cast stones.”
Tara’s stomach dropped. Sophie knew about Luke? That kiss? The idea rattled her to her core. Especially since Sophie had just assumed that there was more to it than Luke making unwanted advances.
Tara wanted to explain herself, but Sophie had already walked away, calling to Fatima to wait for her.
In the meantime, Tara’s knees felt like water.
She couldn’t have rejoined the group and made polite conversation with the others tonight if she tried.
Not when she felt the physical symptoms of a panic attack coming on.
She needed to leave now. First thing in the morning, she would talk to the attorney her father recommended.
Find a way to protect her business interests in The Clean Break as soon as possible.
Because one thing had become crystal clear to her tonight.
Sophie Durand was no longer her friend.
Worse? Maybe she never had been.