Margot Hunt - Best Friends Forever

“Right here,” Todd said, coming into the kitchen. He kissed me on the cheek and plucked the pizza box out of my hands. “We’re all starving.”

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. “Thanks for picking the kids up from school.”

Once I’d realized that lunch was extending into the late afternoon, I’d texted Todd from the restaurant and asked him to handle the school run. It meant that both kids had to wait in aftercare until Todd arrived.

“I hate staying late at school,” Bridget complained. “Where were you, anyway?”

“I was having lunch with a friend.”

“You’ve been at lunch all this time?” Liam asked. “It’s dark out!”

“After lunch, we went shopping, and then we had coffee.” I shrugged. “We started chatting and lost track of time.”

“Stop giving your mom a hard time,” Todd said. “She gets to have a day off every now and then.”

I smiled at my husband, feeling a surge of affection for him. “It was nice to do something out of the ordinary.”

“Lunch in Palm Beach compares favorably to laundry and the school run?” Todd teased.

I laughed. “Surprisingly, yes, it does.”

Todd grabbed plates and napkins while I poured glasses of water for everyone. Once we were seated at the table, I got reports from the children on their days. Liam shrugged and said his was okay, which was pretty much what he said every day, and then returned his attention to stuffing pizza in his mouth. Bridget launched into a very long story involving hurt feelings and drama over a game of four square played by her classmates that, in the end, had nothing to do with her at all, because she was on the opposite side of the playground when it happened.

“But if you weren’t participating in the game, why do you care that Annalise got so upset?” I asked. “I thought you didn’t even like Annalise.”

“I don’t like her. That’s the whole point,” Bridget said hotly.

I looked at Todd to see if he had any insight into these third-grade dramatics, but he just shrugged and shook his head. After dinner, the children cleared the plates and headed off to their nightly bedtime routines. Todd got a beer from the fridge.

“You had a nice time today?” he asked, sitting back down at the kitchen table.

I poured myself a glass of red wine and joined him.

“Yes, I did. Kat’s great. I’m glad she called me.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s smart and funny and really has her act together. She owns the most beautiful modern art gallery.”

“You’re smart and funny,” Todd said loyally.

I smiled and put my hand on his arm. “It was nice having someone different to talk to. Almost everyone I know here I’ve met through the kids in one way or another. Moms from school, women from the playgroups the kids were in when they were little. Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice ladies. Or at least, most of them are. But every time I get together with any of them, the conversation revolves around the children. What the moms are doing at the PTA. Whom they’re friends with, whatever the latest drama is at school. It just gets so tedious.”

Todd’s eyebrows arched, but he didn’t speak.

“Don’t judge,” I said. I loved being a mother, but there were so many aspects of it, especially when my children were little, that I found mind-numbing. Singing the same cloying songs every week in the Mommy & Me class. Sitting on the cold tile floor during bath time. The hours spent at playgrounds being commanded over and over to “Watch me! Watch me!”

Having children was a wonderful, miraculous, soulful experience. Just not each and every moment of it. I found motherhood easier to cope with now that Liam and Bridget were older and more independent.

“It was nice to talk to someone about other things. About art and work and life,” I said.

Todd nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Does Kat have children?”

“Yes, a daughter, but she’s in college.”

“Kat’s older than you, then?”

“A bit, although she did say she had her daughter when she was young,” I explained. “I think she’s in her mid to late forties.”

“Do you think you’ll get together with her again?”

I rolled my wineglass in my fingers, the way I’d once been taught at a wine-tasting class, and watched the bloodred liquid stream down the inside of the glass.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I will.”

5

Present Day

“I’m curious about something,” Sergeant Oliver said. “Why did you think Howard Grant was suicidal? I thought you said you weren’t close.”

“We weren’t. And I never told you I thought he was suicidal. I thought that’s what Detective Demer was suggesting.”

“I don’t think he suggested that at all,” Oliver said, fixing her eyes on me. They were dark and flat, like a shark. I wondered again why she was being so hostile. Had she met Kat, not liked her and extended her dislike to me? Kat could be charming and funny, but I had also seen her turn suddenly cold and imperious, especially when she was challenged. It was not hard to imagine Oliver affecting her that way.

“I have a question,” I said. Oliver just stared at me, but Demer nodded, so I addressed him. “You said you were brought in from Tallahassee. Why was that?”

Demer glanced at Oliver. “It’s not uncommon for a small police department not to have any detectives on staff. Sometimes when there is a situation that requires a more in-depth investigation, they’ll request a detective on loan.”

“So, I’m not sure how this works. Are you and Oliver partners in this investigation?” I asked. “Or are you in charge, and she’s reporting to you?”

I knew instantly from the sour expression on Oliver’s face that they were not, in fact, partners. Demer was the lead, Oliver his unhappy subordinate.

“I’m taking point on the investigation for the time being,” Demer said mildly. “Let’s go back to your friendship with Katherine Grant. How long have you known each other?”

“Three years.”

“And you’re close friends?”

“Yes,” I said. “Very close.”

“How would you describe Katherine Grant?” Demer asked.

It was odd hearing Kat constantly referred to by her full name. She had always been Kat to me.

“How would I describe Kat?” I repeated. How did you distill someone you loved down to a few words? “She’s funny. Smart. Thoughtful. Loyal. Generous... Solid.”

Solid? Was that really Kat? I wasn’t so sure. Kat was more like quicksilver, shimmering and changing. You’d think you knew her, were sure you could predict absolutely what she’d do, and she’d still somehow find a way to surprise you. Oh, well, I had already said it. I couldn’t exactly take it back now, could I?

Oliver didn’t actually roll her eyes at my description, but I think it took all her willpower to avoid doing so. I sensed that she was not the sort of woman who’d ever had a best friend. Certainly not the kind of best friend who rubbed her pricked finger against yours to become your blood sister. I actually could relate. I had never been that sort of a woman before, either.

“Would you say that Howard and Katherine Grant had a happy marriage?” Demer asked.

I hesitated. The truthful answer would be no, they certainly did not. But I also didn’t see any benefit in telling the police that.

“I don’t think anyone on the outside ever truly knows what goes on inside a marriage,” I said carefully.

Demer smiled patiently. “No, probably not. I’m just asking for any impressions you might have formed from being around them.”

“That’s just it. Whenever I saw the two of them together, well, I was there, wasn’t I? Most married people behave differently when there are other people around. I know my husband and I do.”