phone.
“Vivian? It’s Ginny.”
“Who?” said the bored voice again.
I clenched my teeth. She knew damn well who it was. “Ginny Bombay.”
“Oh, Virginia,” she responded, with my full name, just to piss me off. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
I dug my fingernails into my palms. “Really? I want to talk to you too. Are you free tomorrow morning? I could stop by?” I cringed at the thought of entering her home. Maybe I should take some holy water with me, just to be safe.
“Fine,” she replied. “I’ll see you at ten.” She hung up before I could confirm. I figured I’d better pack a mirror too. Just in case she was really a gorgon underneath all that Chanel makeup.
The next morning found me doing something I would never have imagined in a million years. I was walking to Vivian Marcy’s house. And chances were, we would have a cup of coffee. Just the thought of accepting hospitality from that woman made me nervous. I couldn’t remember whether she wore any large rings that might conceal poison.
My fingers flew up to the heart-shaped locket around my neck. Inside, behind a photo of my daughter, was my mandatory cyanide pill (death before captivity). Dak kept his in his watch. Liv had hers in her medical-alert bracelet—she was allergic to bee stings.
Vivian’s house was almost a complete replica of Tara. I rang the doorbell. It even played the theme song from Gone with the Wind . Yeesh. What an ego.
“Come in, Virginia.” She stood in the doorway, this time in a pink Juicy Couture jogging suit. I followed her down the hall to a three-season room in the back of the house. It had a perfect view of Vic’s yard. Despite being in Vivian’s sinister lair, this was a definite bonus.
“Thanks,” I said, accepting a cup of coffee from my hostess. “You have a lovely yard.” My teeth were clenched, but I believed I sounded sincere.
Vivian waved me off. “Oh it’s nothing. My gardener does it. I don’t even know what’s all out there.”
Trying not to appear too eager, I responded, “I was a botany minor in college ... mind if I look around?” I was out the door before she could stop me.
Damn. It really was a gorgeous spread. Early autumn hadn’t yet touched her flowers, and they bloomed brightly against the well-manicured lawn. Vivian walked alongside me, saying nothing as I “oohed” and “ahhhed” over her assortment of lilies, wildflowers and hostas.
From time to time, my eyes crossed over into Vic’s yard, but I didn’t see any toxic plants. No rhododendron, lily of the valley or black-eyed Susans. Not even a stray mushroom. Obviously, the FBI took its witness protection program seriously.
“Is that an elderberry bush?” I walked toward a shrub filled with berries at the border between Vivian’s and Leonard’s property. It was! Hmmm ... maybe I had found something useful after all.
“I don’t know,” Vivian said tersely. “Let’s go back inside. I’m not that fond of the outdoors.”
I rolled my eyes and followed her inside. Now I had to make her forget we were ever out there.
“Vivian, I see the PTA has sent home a fundraising brochure.”
“Yes, for playground equipment.” She sounded bored again.
“Well, there are so many fundraisers this time of the year, I had an idea for raising money.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened, as if she were surprised I was capable of intelligent thought.
I ignored her expression. “I was thinking I’d rather just write a check to the school and be done with it. That way, all the money goes directly to the project, not just a percentage. And there’s no work involved with taking orders, delivering orders and collecting money.”
“Good for you. But how does that help?” I could see she didn’t think I had an idea.
“If I would rather do that, my guess is other parents would rather do that too. The school could make a lot more money and the parents would be happy they didn’t have to sell junk to everyone
“Vivian? It’s Ginny.”
“Who?” said the bored voice again.
I clenched my teeth. She knew damn well who it was. “Ginny Bombay.”
“Oh, Virginia,” she responded, with my full name, just to piss me off. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
I dug my fingernails into my palms. “Really? I want to talk to you too. Are you free tomorrow morning? I could stop by?” I cringed at the thought of entering her home. Maybe I should take some holy water with me, just to be safe.
“Fine,” she replied. “I’ll see you at ten.” She hung up before I could confirm. I figured I’d better pack a mirror too. Just in case she was really a gorgon underneath all that Chanel makeup.
The next morning found me doing something I would never have imagined in a million years. I was walking to Vivian Marcy’s house. And chances were, we would have a cup of coffee. Just the thought of accepting hospitality from that woman made me nervous. I couldn’t remember whether she wore any large rings that might conceal poison.
My fingers flew up to the heart-shaped locket around my neck. Inside, behind a photo of my daughter, was my mandatory cyanide pill (death before captivity). Dak kept his in his watch. Liv had hers in her medical-alert bracelet—she was allergic to bee stings.
Vivian’s house was almost a complete replica of Tara. I rang the doorbell. It even played the theme song from Gone with the Wind . Yeesh. What an ego.
“Come in, Virginia.” She stood in the doorway, this time in a pink Juicy Couture jogging suit. I followed her down the hall to a three-season room in the back of the house. It had a perfect view of Vic’s yard. Despite being in Vivian’s sinister lair, this was a definite bonus.
“Thanks,” I said, accepting a cup of coffee from my hostess. “You have a lovely yard.” My teeth were clenched, but I believed I sounded sincere.
Vivian waved me off. “Oh it’s nothing. My gardener does it. I don’t even know what’s all out there.”
Trying not to appear too eager, I responded, “I was a botany minor in college ... mind if I look around?” I was out the door before she could stop me.
Damn. It really was a gorgeous spread. Early autumn hadn’t yet touched her flowers, and they bloomed brightly against the well-manicured lawn. Vivian walked alongside me, saying nothing as I “oohed” and “ahhhed” over her assortment of lilies, wildflowers and hostas.
From time to time, my eyes crossed over into Vic’s yard, but I didn’t see any toxic plants. No rhododendron, lily of the valley or black-eyed Susans. Not even a stray mushroom. Obviously, the FBI took its witness protection program seriously.
“Is that an elderberry bush?” I walked toward a shrub filled with berries at the border between Vivian’s and Leonard’s property. It was! Hmmm ... maybe I had found something useful after all.
“I don’t know,” Vivian said tersely. “Let’s go back inside. I’m not that fond of the outdoors.”
I rolled my eyes and followed her inside. Now I had to make her forget we were ever out there.
“Vivian, I see the PTA has sent home a fundraising brochure.”
“Yes, for playground equipment.” She sounded bored again.
“Well, there are so many fundraisers this time of the year, I had an idea for raising money.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened, as if she were surprised I was capable of intelligent thought.
I ignored her expression. “I was thinking I’d rather just write a check to the school and be done with it. That way, all the money goes directly to the project, not just a percentage. And there’s no work involved with taking orders, delivering orders and collecting money.”
“Good for you. But how does that help?” I could see she didn’t think I had an idea.
“If I would rather do that, my guess is other parents would rather do that too. The school could make a lot more money and the parents would be happy they didn’t have to sell junk to everyone
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