Before She Dies by Mary Burton

closing comments yesterday. And judging by the jury’s body language, she’d planted real seeds of doubt. “So I hear you’ve reached a new high in fund-raising?”
    “We’ve passed the million-dollar mark with our fund-raiser. We’ve shattered all expectations, and we’ve not even held the party and auction.”
    Charlotte clapped, her smile genuine now. “You’ve a lot to be proud of, Angie.”
    “Thanks.”
    Pragmatic, even calculating to a fault, Charlotte recognized that this event benefited not only the community but also Wellington and James. She’d learned at an early age that those who weren’t always scraping for the next morsel went hungry.
    Angie cut the cake and doled out pieces to everyone. Charlotte bit into the chocolate cake and savored the hidden flavors of espresso. Angie had been raised in an affluent home and knew all the best caterers and bakers in town. She also knew the best schools, the best dance studios, and the most prestigious social events. Not that Angie focused on such things. She didn’t. But it struck Charlotte that what came so naturally to Angie had required painstaking research for her. She built her list of The Best one name at a time. It was very important to her to cultivate the impression that she, too, had grown up in a world similar to Angie’s.
    “So, how is the baby?” Zoe asked.
    “David is great,” Angie said. “He’s walking and tearing up everything in his path. Malcolm has the day off so the two went to the park. Malcolm said it’s a male bonding kind of thing.”
    “What does that mean?” Iris said.
    “Who knows? Likely they take off their shirts, paint their faces, and run through the woods at the park hunting squirrels.”
    Zoe’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
    Angie laughed. “Yes, I’m kidding. Most likely it’s an ice cream at the carnival and a few games of chance there. Then the afternoon in front of the television watching the Dallas game that I taped for him while he was working.”
    Zoe shook her head. “I’d read that the carnival opened last Friday, but I hadn’t thought to go.”
    “For David and Malcolm, it will be great fun. For me, not so much. I was never a fan of carnivals. Too dirty.”
    Charlotte glanced at her cake and poked it with her fork. Too dirty.
    The front door buzzer sounded and Iris moved to answer it.
    Charlotte raised her hand. “Sit. I’ll get it.” She set down her cake, almost untouched, and moved down the hallway. As much as she enjoyed her staff, she understood that there would always be distance between them because she was the boss.
    She checked the security camera behind Iris’s desk and spotted a man, his face turned partway from the camera. The ends of his flannel shirt hung over the painfully narrow waist of faded jeans. He had gray hair and what looked like a scruffy beard. He finished the dregs of a cigarette and then crushed it out in a stone planter filled with white mums.
    “Nice,” Charlotte muttered. She considered calling the cops just as the man turned and faced the camera. He grinned as if he sensed she was staring at him.
    She jerked back and for a moment could barely breathe. Time had weathered the face and grayed the hair, but there was no mistaking the sharp gray eyes that had been a fixture in a childhood she’d worked hard to erase from her memory. She stepped back from the screen, her heart knocking against her chest.
    “What the hell are you doing here, Grady Tate?” The carnival was in town, but she’d stayed away because she did not want to see him. He must have seen the news coverage of the trial yesterday.
    As if she’d spoken directly to him, Grady rang the bell again and then again. His arrival was clearly no accident, and he was not going anywhere.
    Iris appeared at reception. “Who is ringing the bell?”
    Pure, sharp panic cut into Charlotte’s belly. “I’ll take care of it.”
    Iris glanced at the monitor. “He looks like something the cat dragged