The Sister-in-Law, Pamela Crane [have you read this book txt] 📗

‘Does it matter? I was trying to be nice.’

She tossed the magazine down and glared at me. ‘Calm down, Lane. Why are you acting so defensive?’

‘You’re attacking me for getting your mail for you. I’m sorry for thinking of you.’

‘No, I’m sorry.’ She paused, as if she was caught in a mental fog. ‘I’m just on edge since Michelle Hudson made her statement. I thought maybe you had been over there to see her and I panicked. I just want that whole thing to go away.’

Harper’s instinct was sharper than I expected. I had been over to see Michelle. But I couldn’t tell Harper – or anyone – about it.

I sat forward at the sound of a car door slamming shut outside. I glanced at Harper and nodded in the direction of the stairs. Knowing what was coming, Harper excused herself from the sofa, her hand pausing on my shoulder as she passed.

‘Accept no more lies, Lane,’ Harper warned. ‘And remember, this is about her, not you. And do not tell her about what we’ve done, or she will bury you with it.’

‘I know, I know. We’ve gone over this a million times.’

She leaned toward me, our faces this close. ‘You can love her more than you love yourself, but it’s going to cost you everything. I would know.’

Then she left.

I found it ironic that I was supposed to squeeze the truth out of Candace, yet I hid way worse secrets from her. Like tampering with evidence. Staging a murder. Or what I had been doing all afternoon. I hadn’t even told her about the black sedan I noticed sitting two doors down from our house with a man clearly watching us. Earlier today I had pretended to take a jog past his car, but he knew what I was up to and took off before I could get a look at his face.

All evening I had expected the police to show up with two sets of handcuffs, one for me and one for Harper. Maybe it would be a relief. I was physically and emotionally exhausted from the perpetual state of panic I lived in. All the plotting, the preparing for worst-case scenarios … no matter how many times I talked myself in circles, I came back to the same conclusion: there was simply nothing we could do but wait.

And not tell a soul.

That was the deal I made with Harper.

I had thought Michelle Hudson’s witness testimony about the night of Ben’s death was the worst of my problems, until Harper hit me with news of her own after she put the kids to bed. Apparently my wife was a liar. The worst kind, too. Candace had reeled me in with hopes and dreams, but they belonged to another man. A dangerous man. She had run from him into my arms. Was I merely an escape hatch? Or did she genuinely love me? I could never tell the truth from the lies with her.

Did I really have room to judge her, though? I was a criminal in the making, after all. In the end, I was left with an unsettling feeling that I had betrayed Candace, not the other way around. As Harper’s feet padded across the upstairs landing, the front door creaked open.

I was so relieved that my wife was alive that I could have killed her. The house was dark, except for a single lamp on the coffee table beside me. After quietly shutting the front door, Candace tiptoed toward the stairs, then paused when she saw me. My heart raced, as if something frightening or surprising was about to happen. It reminded me of the day I asked her to marry me. I had no idea if I was going to get a yes or a no, and it terrified me. Much like how I felt now, wondering what terrifying truth she’d reveal tonight.

She marched into the living room, a shopping bag swinging from her arm. I barely recognized her, wrapped in pale, washed-out skin. The bronze glow had been replaced with dark scoops beneath her eyes.

‘Hey, babe.’ Her voice was tinged with an unspoken apology. ‘You’re still awake.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you. I called you a dozen times today. Where were you?’ No hey, babe this time. I was angry, and I wanted her to know it.

‘Out.’ She lifted her Nordstrom shopping bag up as proof. ‘Shopping.’

I had caught her in lie number one. ‘Until almost midnight? And without your wallet?’

‘What? Are you stalking me?’

‘Answer the questions, Candace. No lies this time.’

She huffed, and I knew stalling when I saw it. ‘First of all, I’m not lying. And second of all, I used Apple Pay on my phone, you asshole, to buy your sister a thank-you gift, then I got a pregnancy massage, and after that I was craving Korean so I grabbed dinner out. Would you like to see all my receipts? You can check my mileage, if you’d like.’ Thrusting her hand onto her hip and cocking her head, I recognized the sarcasm too late.

Maybe I had overreacted. ‘I’m not trying to start a fight. I just didn’t know where you were all day and you wouldn’t take my calls. I was worried.’

‘I’m a big girl, Lane. I don’t need a babysitter.’

‘I know, but it was so out of character for you to just … disappear, without a note or text or anything.’ Especially when your deranged ex, whose baby you’re carrying, might be looking for you.

She exhaled an exasperated sigh. ‘Sometimes I need a little space. The pregnancy hormones make me sick all the time, and angry when I’m not sick, and sad when I’m not angry. And with all the people in the house, it can feel overwhelming.’

‘I get it. But I did have something I wanted to talk to you about. Can you sit down for a minute?’

She glanced away, then looked past me. ‘Um, do you mind if I grab something to eat