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“It’s my boyfriend,” Tess said. “He’ll panic if I don’t answer because he knows exactly where I am.”

Carole nodded, standing over her. “Short answers,” she hissed.

“Is Lloyd there?” Crow asked. “It’s been two hours since he borrowed my car for the dinner run.”

“No,” Tess said.

“He probably stopped to see May and lost track of time. You know how he is when he gets access to a car. It brings out the teenager in him. Which is only fair, given that he’s eighteen.”

“Yes.”

“Tess, are you mad at me still? I’m sorry that I said I didn’t think Whitney would be a good guardian. And the job thing—well, we’ll find a solution. Don’t be angry, Tess. You’re not still, are you?”

“No,” she all but choked out. “God, no. I love you, Crow.”

“Love you, too. Don’t be too hard on Lloyd when he shows up.” He clicked off.

“Love,” Carole said with disdain. “What a waste.”

“Why did you marry Don Epstein, then?”

“For the spousal immunity. Sort of like the Cold War, you know? Neither one of us could strike first. He was weak. I needed something to hold over him.”

“Does he know about Annette?”

“You mean that she was a bloodsucking gold digger? Neither one of us saw that coming. I picked her out, in fact. Don’s one of those men who needs a companion. I never expected her to put the squeeze on Don, to demand that he cut off his monthly payments to me. Once she was gone, I knew I couldn’t make that mistake again. I’d have to marry Don if I wanted his money. It was a business deal.”

“And why did you decide to end your lovely business arrangement?”

Carole tossed her head. It was all too easy to imagine her at thirteen, throwing a fit over a Dolce & Gabbana skirt. It was harder to see her as an adult, holding down a job, meeting anyone’s expectations but her own.

“Let me guess: He figured out that you killed Danielle. He found her jewelry and Annette’s among your things, and he was repulsed, maybe even terrified. So you struck a deal. You would disappear in such a way that no one could be really sure what happened—and you wouldn’t come back, as long as Don kept the money flowing into those private accounts you set up. Your own sister. Jesus, I’m repulsed.”

“She was going to tell the police about the affair, how she suspected Don set up the carjacking. She called me at school, in the middle of the week, and I came home late that night to talk to her. I didn’t mean to—I just tried to grab her arm at the top of the stairs and . . . well, Dani’s balance was never very good.”

“It’s interesting,” Tess said, “how many accidents happen around you. And how careful you are to avoid implicating yourself in anything by Mary Epstein’s death, which you can always blame on Epstein.”

“You know what?” Carole said. “I’ll happily take responsibility for yours, you buttinsky bitch.”

The gloaming—it was the last light of day, Whitney finally remembered, not a place—had come and gone. It was pitch-black, the kind of darkness to which the eyes never really adjust. She wasn’t sure she believed a word that Don Epstein had told her, but that didn’t seem to be the best tack.

Instead she asked: “Why are you confiding in me, Don?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you. But I can never divorce Carole, she won’t allow it. And if I go down to the police station and make a clean breast of things, they’ll lock me up. I want to be with you, Whitney. But I’ll never be able to marry you.”

Whitney fought down the impulse to scream Thank God! Instead, she pulled her hand, ever so gently, from Epstein’s grasp and patted his cheek.

“But we can be engaged,” she said. “In a matter of speaking. We can live together, as husband and wife, after a decent interval has passed. No one needs to know that you haven’t legally severed your ties to Carole.”

“You would do that?”

“Yes. Now—Now let’s go tell my mom the happy news.”

“Doesn’t she live in Easton? Aren’t you estranged?”

“Um, not anymore.”

One look at you and she’ll make stiff drinks for all of us. She also would insist on giving Epstein a tour of the house,