Betrayal - Fern Michaels [31]
“Dammit, Kate. You don’t believe there’s any truth to this garbage?”
Her eyes felt like someone had poured buckets of chlorine in them. She’d cried more in the past twenty-four hours than she had in her entire lifetime. She wiped her nose with her knuckles. Her hands shook as she reached for her mug of coffee. “That’s preposterous. You just scared me, that’s all. What is it you want to tell me?”
“I’ve been talking to Gertie. She’s with me on this, right, Gert?” Alex asked.
“I am.”
This was harder than he expected. The odds were slim that he’d ever need to implement his backup plan, but Alex wasn’t a betting man. He preferred a sure thing.
“I’ve had Gertie’s brother Reece draw up the papers to put the house, the land, and the kennel in Gertie’s name. I know it’s not rational, but if something were to happen to me, you wouldn’t have to worry. Financially, at least.” There, it was out. Kate observed him as if he’d lost his mind.
“You really think this is necessary? Not that I don’t trust you.” She reached for Gertie’s hand. “It’s just . . . it seems so final.”
“We don’t know what will happen, Kate. If this goes to trial, which I pray it won’t, but if it does, I want to know that you’re taken care of. Gertie will disburse any money we need for attorney fees, basic living expenses, and, of course, bail if we can get the judge to agree. I can’t help but think that Debbie will try to sue the pants off us if she gets the chance. With all of our assets in Gertie’s name, no one will be able to touch anything.”
“Okay. I can live with these arrangements. Now, about that list James wants, let’s get that out of the way.” Inside, Kate was slowly falling apart. There she was sitting at the old oak table that had been in her family for years, talking about protecting their home, everything they’d shared, just to ensure that Alex’s best friend didn’t try to take it all away because of a lie. If she managed to get through this, she really didn’t know what they would do. For starters, they’d have to relocate. The damage to Alex’s reputation would be irreparable. They’d have to start fresh in another state. Maybe even another country. This was like a soap opera, only the drama was very real.
Kate took a pad from the kitchen drawer and placed it in front of Alex. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll go check on the dogs. Bella is getting pretty jumpy with her babies,” Gertie said.
“Thanks, Gertie. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Kate gave the older woman a tight hug. Alex nodded at Gertie.
“You’re gonna be just fine, Alex. Just fine,” Gertie called over her shoulder.
Kate closed the door and leaned against the frame. “She’s right, you know. A few weeks, and this will all be behind us. We can move on.”
Alex’s blue eyes filled with anguish. “I don’t know if we’ll ever move on and put this behind us, Kate. We’re just getting started, and already I feel like I’ve lost. I know that’s being negative, but there doesn’t seem to be much we can do. Pray that if this goes to trial, a jury will see Sara for the little manipulator that she is.”
“I’ve said more prayers the past three days than I’ve said in my life, Alex. We’ll get through this.” We have to, Kate thought, because life won’t be worth anything without Alex.
“I hope you’re right. Let’s take this pad and pencil to bed. I’ll bring up a bottle of wine. We’ll be more relaxed. What do you say?” Alex was trying so hard to lighten the mood. They’d been so down since Sara’s accusation.
Wine was the last thing Kate needed, but if it helped Alex take the edge off, then she’d drink an entire vineyard’s worth.
“I’ll just be a minute.” Kate took the cups and saucers off the table. She rinsed them with scalding-hot water until her hands were beet red. Then she put them in the dishwasher and wiped the tabletop and counters. She refilled the creamer and sugar bowls. She swept the floor, then took a damp mop and began scrubbing the already clean tiles. An hour later she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was lie down. She didn’t want to remember all their visits with the Winters, didn