She had the money.
God, those had to be the most beautiful words in the English language: I've got the money.
Siobhan had the money, she'd ditched Henry, and now all she had to do was return this car she'd borrowed from the co-op's pool of cars made available to residents.
Okay, and then she had to stop in the co-op for one last time. Not because she was sentimental, but because there was a key there. A key to a locker at a bus depot.
When Siobhan had gone out to Long Island to find the money did she remember the locker at the station.
After Siobhan's "death" on the boat, when they searched Bridget, the cops would find a key to a locker, and the locker held a number of items incriminating to Ms. Kelly in the matter of the Tragic Death of Mrs. Siobhan Martin. The idea being that Bridget had stored them there in order to make a quick getaway after murdering her sister, natch.
Only she hadn't called the cops.
And now everyone knew Siobhan wasn't dead, of course.
So now that stupid locker looked like a gigantic arrow pointing back to Siobhan as part of some frame-up.
Bridget, of course, would not have had any idea of what that key was. There was a distinct possibility that no one would ever find that key and the entire thing was a moot point.
Siobhan did not leave loose ends. And lockers were opened after six months.
In the co-op, Bridget's crappy little Target shoulder bag was stashed in the back of the immaculate closet, behind the rows of Siobhan's Hermes Kelly and Birkin bags. The same crappy bag Siobhan had dropped the bus locker key into oh these many months ago. She reached in and pulled the key out. The flush that ran down her body from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes felt sinfully sexual it was so hot.
Get the key, and get out.
Siobhan was deeply sad to be leaving all of those Hermes bags, but she had the remaining piece to the puzzle.
When she walked back into the foyer, she realized she wasn't alone. Staring back at her was her dumbass stepdaughter Juliet.
After a couple of seconds of the two women staring at one another, Juliet started screaming.
~oOo~
Everything happened kind of fast after that.
Andrew was there, out of nowhere it seemed, pulling Juliet away. A man in a slick grey suit who had the world's darkest eyes shouted some kind of instructions into his phone. The key she'd risked everything to go back and get was pried out of her hand. The bag of money disappeared. No one talked to her. No one read her her rights or tried to impress upon her the seriousness of the situation. Everyone in the co-op ignored her altogether, in fact.
Except for when Siobhan made a dash for the elevator. Then the man in the slick grey suit moved pretty damn fast.
Andrew grabbed Siobhan by the arm. "May I speak to my wife in private for a moment?"
Mr. Slick glanced at his watch. "Make it fast. She's headed downtown as soon as the other agents arrived."
~oOo~
Andrew clicked a ballpoint pen and reached for the pad he always kept in the same place on his desk. "We don't have much time. I'm going to offer you a deal. One time offer only. Take it or leave it." He wrote. "If you have the baby, I pay for your lawyers to deal with this mess and I also put this amount in a bank account for you, in your name, free and clear. As our total divorce settlement." He held up the pad and showed it to her.
Siobhan's nose wrinkled in disgust. "That's it?"
He shook his head. "In return, you behave yourself, you take care of yourself, with frequent doctor checkups and blood tests, that sort of thing. A couple of good lawyers can run interference with the government for a few months and keep you out of prison until you deliver. When the baby is born, we do a blood test and you hand over complete and total custody to whoever the father turns out to be, no questions asked, no further contact necessary. Or, for that matter, probably wanted."
"And if I don't agree to this?"
"That's fine. There's no alternative scenario. Well, other than there will be no divorce settlement whatsoever other than this one. You can do whatever you want, and I know you, you don't want to take anyone else's plan. So what you do now, it is wholly your choice. I'm making you an offer that you can, in fact, refuse. It's an offer of something you want: money. For something I want: a divorce and that baby if it turns out to be mine. If you're not interested, it is absolutely your prerogative. And you'll be on your own with the FBI." He stood up. "You have until Agent Machado's fellow agents arrive."
Andrew walked to the door.
"Jesus Christ," Siobhan said. "I don't need ten minutes. I'll do it."
Andrew closed his eyes and mouthed the words Thank you before turning around. "I will put the money in escrow today. It will be transferred as soon as custody is determined and arranged."
"Bastard," she yelled.
"I'll arrange to have a OB-Gyn visit you wherever they're going to keep you," Andrew said. "And Siobhan?"
"What?"
"Are you at all curious how your sister is doing?"
Siobhan smiled at him. "Why the hell would I care how that bitch is doing?"
He shrugged. "Most people are curious. And you're so much more competitive than most people. And of course it has quite a bearing on your legal future, now doesn't it. Whether she's alive or dead or…"
Siobhan rolled her eyes. "So tell me."
Andrew waited thirty seconds. Then he smiled, and shook his head. "And make it easy for you? My lawyers will be in touch with you with the paperwork."
~oOo~
The doors of the elevator opened in the lobby and one of the FBI agents next to her poked Siobhan in the side. "This way," he said.
Ugh. This was embarrassing. Why on Earth were they treating her this way?
A man sitting on the couch underneath the replica of a Jacques-Louis David painting jumped up and ran toward her.
"Honey?" Henry said. "Sweetheart, are you okay? How's the baby?"
Siobhan looked at him. She'd seen his face so many times, in so many different intimate and important settings. And this was like the first time she'd ever seen him. God, how much time had she wasted on this man? He was probably the reason she was in this predicament now — it wouldn't surprise her at all if he'd made some gigantic mistake with one of the things she'd asked him to do or maybe he'd even gone running to the cops because he was worried he'd done something wrong.
Henry Butler. Well, she'd looked for someone stupid and faithful who would do what she told him, and boy, hadn't she succeeded.
She shook her head and looked away from him. "Get me out of here," Siobhan told the agents.
~/~/~/~
Hey there! Yes, I have the rest of this planned out, although I'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left. Thank you for reading along this far — I never thought it would go on this long (or take as many chapters as it already has).
— DH