Four Minute Phone Call Exposed My Husband and My Best Friend
I walked into the office and knelt beside him, my knees pressing into the Persian rug.
“I thought I saw it on the kitchen counter yesterday,” I said.
“It isn’t there,” Richard said.
He stopped searching and looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“You look a little pale tonight, Laura,” Richard said.
“I am just tired,” I said, twisting my wedding band around my finger.
“We need to get these signatures finalized before the bank holiday,” Richard said, sitting back on his heels.
“I want Margret to look at the paperwork first,” I said.
“Margret is eighty years behind the times, Laura,” Richard said.
“She was my father’s attorney,” I said.
Richard stood up and brushed the dust from his trousers.
“Your father is not here to manage this estate, Laura,” Richard said.
“I know who is here, Richard,” I said.
He looked at his watch again, his face hardening.
“I am going to check the car,” Richard said.
He walked down the hallway, and a moment later, the heavy oak front door clicked shut.
The phone on my bedside table vibrated at exactly four o’clock the next afternoon.
