Ladies' Night by Mary Kay Andrews

older man with silver hair, gestured impatiently. Finally, all three cars backed up so that Grace could get out of the line. She parked her car on the shoulder of the road and went to the guard shack, whose dark tinted windows obscured those inside. She felt limp and defeated, and she hadn’t even gotten to the house yet, a destination she was already dreading.
    She tapped on the guard-shack window, and finally a uniformed security guard, a middle-aged guy with a graying military crew cut, opened the door. She was grateful for the cold blast of air-conditioning. The guard stepped outside and Grace recognized him at once.
    “Oh, hi, Sheldon,” she said, favoring him with a smile. “I’m so glad you’re on duty.” She held up her key card. “I’m Grace Stanton. My key card won’t work. Can you fix it for me?”
    He frowned slightly, taking the card, turning it over and over to examine it closer. “Looks okay.”
    “I know, but it won’t work,” Grace said.
    “Hang on a minute,” Sheldon said. He stepped back into the guard booth and closed the door. A mosquito buzzed around her face, and she swatted it away. The sun beat down on her head, and she was sure she was about to melt.
    The door opened, but only an inch or two. The security guard’s friendly smile had vanished. Now he glowered at her. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”
    “What?” Grace said, startled. “Why not?”
    “I can’t discuss it,” Sheldon said, and he started to close the door again, but before he could, Grace grabbed the doorknob.
    “Wait a minute,” she said, feeling her face growing redder by the moment. “What’s going on here? Why won’t you fix my key card?”
    He glanced around, to make sure he couldn’t be overheard. As if!
    “I can’t help you because your card has been deactivated.”
    “That’s ridiculous!” Grace said. “Is this because of … my marital situation? Did my husband call up here and tell you people to keep me out? He has no right! I live here. At 27 Sand Dollar Lane.”
    “I don’t make the rules, ma’am,” Sheldon said. “All’s I know is, according to the computer, you are no longer listed as a resident of Gulf Vista.”
    “He can’t do that,” Grace said, her teeth gritted. “Please! Look, I don’t want to make a scene…”
    “Then don’t,” Sheldon said. He held up a walkie-talkie. “My supervisor told me to tell you that if you have a problem with the card situation, you should contact an attorney. Until we have some kind of a legal document stating otherwise, I can’t let you in.” He reached around and gently removed Grace’s hand from the doorknob. “Sorry.”
    Grace heard a light beep of a car horn. A white Lincoln rolled up beside her and the passenger-side window slid down. Anita McKenna, an older woman she knew slightly from the country club, gave her a friendly smile. “Hi! It’s Grace, right? Are you having car problems? Anything I can do to help?”
    “Anita! Hello,” Grace said eagerly, stepping closer to the car. “Actually, I am having a little issue…”
    There was a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Sheldon standing directly beside her. “Mrs. Stanton? My supervisor thinks it would be a good idea if you would just move along now.” He held up his walkie-talkie again.
    Grace felt her spine stiffen. “I was just…”
    Anita McKenna looked from Sheldon to Grace. “Oh,” she said. “My goodness. I didn’t realize.” The window slid up again, and the Lincoln breezed through the gate.
    *   *   *
    She called Dickie Murphree’s office twice more on her way to back to Cortez. Finally, his receptionist allowed her to leave a voice mail message.
    “Dickie,” she said, fighting back tears. “It’s Grace Davenport. I’ve been calling and calling. I really need to talk to you. I’ve left Ben. Maybe you saw it on the news? Now he’s frozen our bank accounts, cut off my credit cards—he’s even fixed it so I can’t get back to our house to