~ Maddie ~
“Olivia, welcome,” I say. “Come in.”
“Am I welcome, Maddie?” she asks. “Clearly, I wasn’t invited because you all wanted to sit around and talk about me.”
For a split second, I wonder how she knew, but then, in my peripheral vision, I see MJ lurking and that answers my question.
“Yes, you’re very welcome here,” I say. “You would’ve been invited tonight had you not turned down my initial invitation for the reunion. I didn’t want to hound you since you said you were on deadline.” I turn to MJ. “I’m so glad you called Olivia.”
I’m sincere, but MJ, who looks sheepish, can take that however she chooses. I think it was underhanded of her to call Olivia without telling the rest of us she was doing that, but I am glad Olivia is here. Now, we can get the story straight from her rather than speculating.
“Olivia, we just finished dinner, but there’s plenty of lasagna, may I fix you a plate?”
She glares at me as if I’ve offered her a feast of worms. “No, thank you. I’ll say what I’ve come to say and then I’ll leave so you can get back to the gossip.”
“We’ve gathered to mourn Kellen Corsi, Olivia.” I do my best to keep my tone neutral. “I’m sure you’ve heard the sad news.”
Olivia raises her chin. “How would I know since nothing has been released in the press?”
She’s right. Jack said they were delaying releasing specifics until they can notify Kellen’s husband. But it’s hard to believe she didn’t know about Kellen. I can’t imagine MJ wouldn’t have run right to the phone to tell her. Because of that, Olivia’s lack of sadness and total self-absorption is disturbing.
“I’m sure you have your ways of finding out,” I say. “Right, MJ?”
Olivia rolls her eyes and brushes past me. She walks into the living room where Fran and Hailey greet her tentatively. From where they’re sitting, I’m sure they heard the exchange in the foyer. There’s only a thin wall separating the two spaces.
Gaze downcast, MJ follows her. Jenna and I hang back.
“Do you want me to call Jack?” Jenna whispers.
Olivia isn’t carrying a purse. She’s wearing a sundress with sandals. Really, there’s no place to conceal a weapon. Even though, Olivia is tall and on the big-boned side, I can’t imagine she’s come here to hurt anyone.
I shake my head. “I think we’re okay.”
Jenna grimaces. “I’ll keep my phone handy just in case.”
“Maddie,” Olivia calls. “Is there something you’d like to share? I’ve come all this way. It makes it extra tacky to whisper about me.”
I walk into the living room where Fran and Hailey are standing and looking as if they don’t know whether they should run or take cover. I look Olivia square in the eyes, even though I’m a good four inches shorter. “You’re absolutely right. It is tacky to whisper about you when you’ve barged in and are standing in the middle of my living room. Jenna and I were discussing whether or not we should call the police.”
Jenna nods and holds up her phone.
Olivia’s eyes go wide. She takes a couple of steps back.
“So, you tell me, Olivia.” I put my hands on my hips and try to make myself look as big as possible. “Should we call the police? Because we will if you’ve come to cause trouble. But if you want to have a civil discussion, we can do that without involving the authorities. Because I would love to talk to you.”
Then she does the last thing I expect. This strong, sometimes brazen, woman buries her head in her hands and starts crying. Actually, crying isn’t even the half of it. She’s sobbing and shaking as if her very heart has been ripped from her chest.
I put my arm around her and walk her to a chair. She sinks down in it. MJ hands her a tissue and pats her back. Hailey pours a glass of wine and sets it on the end table next to Olivia. Fran stands next to me with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Olivia like a shrink evaluating a mental patient.
After a few long minutes, Olivia seems to have cried herself out. With one last shudder, she blows her nose and her gaze locks on the glass of wine.
“Is this for me?” Her voice is croaky.
We nod. Olivia upends the wine and guzzles it like a parched woman would drink water. After she has drains the last drop, she heaves a heavy sigh and stares off into the middle distance as if she has depleted her last reserve of energy.
All of us seem to be holding our breaths as we wait to see what Olivia will do next.
She checks her posture, going from round shouldered to straight spine. “I’m just going to cut to the chase,” she says, sounding fully like herself again. “I know you all are gossiping and saying I did it, but I did not kill Kellen Corsi. Do you understand me?”
“Nobody said you killed Kellen,” Fran asserts. “Your messenger might want to get the facts straight rather than stirring the pot.”
Olivia juts out her jaw and flicks something off the skirt of her dress. “You all leave MJ out of this. Do any of you deny that you were talking about me tonight before MJ called me?” One by one, Olivia skewers each of us—except for MJ, of course—with a piercing look that begs us to deny it.
“I thought we were leaving MJ out of this,” Hailey mocks.
“Look,” I say. “We saw you at the hotel last night. We were trying to figure out if you were ignoring us or simply didn’t hear us. That’s all we were talking about. If anyone tried to read more into it than what it was, that’s on them.”
I pointedly do not look at MJ.
“I didn’t hear you,” Olivia says. Her face is defiant, and I don’t believe her.
“Really.” It’s not a question.
“We were all calling to you and waving,” Hailey says.
“We were making such a spectacle of ourselves,” Fran adds. “I’m surprised you didn’t see us. You just got into your car and drove away.”
“You looked upset,” I say.
“I was upset,” Olivia snaps. “The front desk guy wouldn’t even call Kellen’s room. Of course, he wouldn’t tell me what was going on and I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t even try. I thought he was just being rude. So, yeah, when I came out to get into my car, I was a little in my head because I was mentally composing the letter I was going to write to his boss.”
“What time did you get to the hotel?” Jenna asks.
Olivia eyes my daughter like she’s a rude teenager speaking out of turn. “I don’t know the exact time. What time did you see me leave? Probably ten minutes before that.”
She’s taking the clipped, flippant tone she’d use back in the writers’ group days when someone would challenge her. I realize now that it’s a defense mechanism, but it still makes me grind my teeth.
“We’re not trying to accuse anyone,” I say. “But you know how these things go. Given your history with Kellen, it would be in your interest to know the details of your alibi before the police contact you.”
Olivia’s face goes pale, and for a split second, something that looks like abject terror flashes in her eyes.
“I did not kill Kellen,” she says. “If you all believe you can pin it on me, you’d better think again.”
She sits there shaking her head in a way that suggests she’s trying to convince herself.
“Why were you at the hotel yesterday evening?” I ask.
“It’s none of your business,” she hisses.
“I think what Maddie is nicely trying to say,” Fran says, “is that she doesn’t care why you were there, but the police will and this is a good chance to practice what you’re going to say.”
Olivia snorts. “Or it’s your chance to hear what I have to say so you can figure out how to turn it around and use it against me.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Hailey says as she shuffles a deck of cards. “Why are you so paranoid? If you’re innocent, no one is going to be able to turn this around on you.”
When I look closer, Hailey is playing with her tarot cards.
Olivia purses her lips and shrugs. “Okay. I’ll play your game. I went to the hotel to speak to Kellen.”
She stares at her hands for a moment. I’m glad no one feels compelled to fill the silence. One thing I’ve learned from talking to Jackson about police procedure research for my books is that often, it’s how someone acts in the quiet moments that speaks louder than what they’re saying.
“I’ve changed,” Olivia says. “Whether you all want to believe it or not, I have. I’m really happy writing romance, and I wanted to tell Kellen I don’t hold any animosity toward her. Actually, if not for everything I went through with her, I might not have made this switch. I might still be spinning my wheels doing a second-rate job writing mysteries when romance comes effortlessly. It really feels as if I was born to write romance.”
Fran bites her bottom lip and I wonder if she is trying not to laugh or maybe she’s doing her best to keep herself from spitting out a flippant remark. It seems like we’re getting somewhere with Olivia and if Fran says something derisive, I’m afraid Olivia will stop talking.
Olivia shrugs. “I went to the hotel to thank her. I wanted to talk to her before she met you for dinner. I wanted to say my piece and get out without you all being the wiser.”
“Wow, that’s nice.” Hailey’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Nice to know where we rate.”
Olivia doesn’t answer her.
Hailey is dealing her cards out onto the coffee table into a formation called a Celtic cross. I know that because she has practiced reading the cards in that formation on me. She swore it wouldn’t be long before I was published. I’m still waiting.
“I was at home writing until the time I went to the hotel. My husband can vouch for my whereabouts.” She stands and looks smug. “Plus, after I didn’t get a chance to talk to Kellen, I wrote a note on hotel stationery and gave it to Omar to give to her.”
When no one says a word, Olivia says, “Look, I don’t owe you all any explanation. And I’d like to remind you all that each of you has reason to want Kellen dead.”
A chorus of excuse mes, whats and I don’t think sos fills the air.
“Oh, come on. You know at one time or another Kellen either used you or pissed you off as bad or even worse than she did me. Hailey, you know she used to make fun of you behind your back.”
“She did not,” Hailey says.
Olivia pins her with a pitying look. “Yes, she did. She thought you were the biggest airhead. That’s why she replaced you on that panel of authors that time. Remember the one conference that you couldn’t afford to attend, but went because of the exposure that being on a panel with Kellen would bring?”
I catch the hurt in Hailey’s eyes before she averts her gaze to the cards on the table in front of her. She starts turning over cards one by one.
“Fran, you stopped sharing your ideas because she’d take them and make them better than anything you could’ve ever come up with.”
“Well, that’s a rude thing to say,” Fran sputters.
“Sorry if the truth hurts. I remember you telling her one of her ideas was treading too close to one of the books you’d published a few years ago. She shut you up by reminding you that you can’t copyright an idea. And don’t forget the time after you published your first book, Kellen said she’d give you a cover quote but backed out at the last minute. If I remember correctly, she said, ‘I can’t endorse this crap.’”
Fran opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it.
“Maddie, you and MJ, remember that time she told both of you she wouldn’t introduce you to her editor because your work wasn’t up to par? She said you both needed to get a whole lot better before she’d stick her neck out for you like that.”
MJ looks crestfallen.
“MJ, at least you were the smart one. You gave it up. Maddie is still beating her head against that door that’s never going to open.”
“Olivia, Kellen didn’t say that to me,” I assert. “You did.”
Olivia is shaking her head. “Sorry, that’s not true. I was there when she said it. I also remember how she blew you off when you went all the way to the Washington DC book fair to support her.”
“Actually, I remember her saying something like that to me,” MJ says. “She might not have put it quite that coarsely, but Kellen always did have a way with words. She could tell you to go to hell and you’d end up thanking her. But even with those perceived transgressions, I don’t think any of us would’ve killed her over it—especially all these years later.”
Olivia rolls her eyes. “This is so par for the course. Kellen Corsi could’ve been the one to commit murder and somehow the world would’ve found a way to present her with an award.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Fran asks. “The woman is dead and you’re still bitter and jealous. Is it any wonder people think you killed her?”
Olivia’s mouth falls open. “You are so off base, Fran. You’d better watch what you say. If you’re going to start throwing around accusations as serious as that, you’d better damn well have solid proof.”
Fran puts her hands on her hips. “Or what, Olivia? What are you going to do? Sue me? Or will I be your next victim?”
Olivia goes pale. Her gaze scans every face in the room. For the first time since I’ve known her, she’s at a loss for words.
“The reason people think you killed Kellen is because you had a very strong motive. None of us were bitter enough to sue her. Only you, Olivia. So, I don’t understand what you’re trying to prove by coming here and dredging up all this nastiness. You’re only making yourself look worse. I thought you said you’d changed.”
Olivia squares her shoulders. “I’m sorry if the truth hurts, but I have changed. Kellen wasn’t the living saint she hypnotized you into believing she was. She was a lying, cheating, thirsty opportunist who used people to get what she wanted. You all just can’t see beyond your hero worship. Or can you? I know that each and every one of us in this room has a motive for wanting Kellen Corsi dead. And when the police ask me, that’s what I’m going to say. It doesn’t feel so great to have the finger pointed at you, does it?”
Olivia starts walking toward the door, but stops when Hailey says, “Well, Olivia is right about one thing.”
Olivia turns back and raises a dark brow.
Hailey points to the tarot spread on the table. “The cards indicate the murderer is right here in this room.”