Penny wanted to interrupt but couldn’t. Roman was siphoning the very fears from her own mind and spitting them back at her. These ideas were nothing she hadn’t considered, but somehow, hearing them from his mouth made them polluted.
“Your dreams are over, Penny. But it doesn’t have to be this way.”
Penny forced her eyes open but left her fists clenched. “It was a mistake to come here. I should have seen the writing on the wall.”
“Make this simple on all of us, please.”
“Did you ever love me at all?” Penny ducked out from under his grasp. “Were you ever going to leave your wife?”
Roman sucked in a breath. “For Christ’s sake, Penny. Don’t do this.”
Penny swallowed hard. She hurried to the door, her heart pounding. One glance over her shoulder told her Roman hadn’t moved.
“I’m keeping the baby,” she said hoarsely. “Just leave me alone.”
“This is a mistake, Penny,” Roman warned. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“I know exactly what I want, Roman. And if you ever try to interfere in my life or the baby’s, you will be sorry.”
TRANSCRIPT
Defense: What would you say your relationship with Penny Sands was over the last year?
Anne Wilkes: At first, it was professional. She babysat for us. Actually, she was referred to us by Roman and Eliza Tate. I now realize the irony of that.
Defense: You said at first it was professional. What about after that?
Anne Wilkes: We became friends. It was a natural sort of thing. I’d come home and chat with Penny for a bit. Once or twice, we had a drink together or took the kids to the park.
Defense: What sorts of things would you discuss?
Anne Wilkes: Whatever friends talk about. Where we came from, where we’re going. Who we love, who we hate. You know the drill.
Defense: Was there anyone Ms. Sands mentioned hating?
Anne Wilkes: I don’t think Penny is capable of hate. She’s a nice young woman.
Defense: So you didn’t notice anything strange about Ms. Sands?
Anne Wilkes: You’re talking about her little hobby, aren’t you? Yes, I know about it. That doesn’t mean Penny is a bad person. She’s just flawed like the rest of us.
Defense: Please clarify for the court what you mean about Ms. Sands’s little hobby.
Anne Wilkes: She collects things. Little trinkets.
Defense: By collects, do you mean steal?
Anne Wilkes: Sure.
Defense: Did she tell you this?
Anne Wilkes: Of course not. She took things from me, too. It seemed like some sort of odd compulsion. But it never hurt anyone. It wasn’t anything important.
Defense: How did you discover this compulsion of Ms. Sands’s?
Anne Wilkes: I found a photo that belonged to me in her apartment. She’d obviously taken it without asking. And then there were the things she’d taken from Eliza…
Defense: What had she taken from Mrs. Tate?
Anne Wilkes: A serving set I’d given Eliza for her wedding. There was a knife, a little spoon.
Defense: This knife—it had Mr. and Mrs. Tate’s initials engraved on it?
Anne Wilkes: Yes. And their anniversary date.
Defense: Did you confront Ms. Sands when you found it?
Anne Wilkes: No. I didn’t really think twice about it, to be completely honest. I happened to see it when I was moving a bunch of baby things into her apartment. We were reorganizing, and I shuffled some things around.
Defense: You didn’t think it was odd?
Anne Wilkes: I just didn’t connect the dots. The picture I chalked up to an accident. Maybe a copy had gotten tucked in a book I’d loaned her or something. As for the utensils, I assumed…I don’t know, that she’d borrowed them from Eliza for a special dinner or something. We were all friends; we did things like that.
Defense: Did she ever return the knife to Mrs. Tate?
Anne Wilkes: I don’t know.
Defense: I don’t think she did, Mrs. Wilkes. Do you know how I know?
Anne Wilkes: No clue.
Defense: Because that’s the very knife that killed Roman Tate. Mrs. Tate’s fingerprints might’ve been on the weapon, but the knife was in Ms. Sands’s possession. Now tell me, do you still think it’s a harmless little hobby, Mrs. Wilkes?
TWENTY-SIX
Two Months Before
December 2018
Call if you need anything.” Anne faced her husband on a clear Saturday morning as she finished detailing her keep-the-kids-alive instructions. “The twins are fed. Gretchen is planning to make a list of presents she wants for her birthday, so I left supplies on the counter. Samuel needs to be read to for half an hour before he gets screen time.”
“I’ve got it under control,” Mark said with a smile that stopped Anne in her tracks. “Go on. Have a good time with your friends.”
Anne stood stock-still while her husband leaned forward and pecked a sweet kiss on her forehead. She could only give him a baffled look as she wrapped her cardigan tighter around her body and spun off toward the car.
As she drove toward Hollywood, Anne let her brain wander over the uneventfulness of the past few months. She had delivered a check to Roman for the full amount he’d requested the night she’d met him at his studio. The night she’d run into Penny. Anne had wondered if Penny would mention the event to Eliza, but thankfully, it didn’t seem to have come up. Thank God for small miracles.
Thank God for big miracles, too. It hadn’t been easy, but Anne had managed to get Roman his money, thanks to a career before children and an unattended 401k. In another lifetime, Anne had held a full-time job for almost a decade. She’d spent that time funneling money into her retirement account, and thanks to a healthy employer match program and impressive growth due to a booming stock market, she’d had enough money to cover Roman’s demands.
There’d been a steep penalty to withdraw the money from her retirement account, but Anne wasn’t going to split hairs over tax laws. She’d made a few phone calls when Mark had been at work to secure the money, funneling it into a new bank account that her husband knew nothing about. She’d proceeded to write Roman a big, fat check that he’d promptly cashed. As far as Anne knew, they were even.
But what was to stop Roman from turning Mark in to the police now, short of more money? Surely the fifty grand she’d paid him wasn’t enough to support Roman Tate’s fast and furious lifestyle for very long.
Anne stopped on a side street that, even in Hollywood, was too unfavorable to require metered parking. Climbing out, she made her way to the trunk where she had two laundry baskets full of the kids’ old stuff. She paused there, one basket in her arm, glancing toward the apartment complex. She wondered sadly if this was as good as it would get for Penny.
Striding through the doorway, Anne washed the thought away and scoped out the entrance for a dial-in panel. It took a good few minutes before Anne realized there was no code…or security features whatsoever. The door was unlocked.
Anne hesitated in the lobby, but it was only a second before Penny’s head popped over the second-floor railing. Her face lit into a smile.
“Come on up,” Penny called, shuffling her rapidly expanding frame to the top of the stairs. “Better yet, I’ll come down.”