The Last Mrs Parrish: An addictive psychological thriller with a shocking twist!. Liv Constantine

was quiet a moment and then nodded her head and looked back at Amber. “I remember. Her name was Ruth Bennett. She’s a widow.”

      “She lives alone?” Amber said.

      “Well, sort of, I guess. She owns a B&B in New Hampshire, so she’s not really alone. Right? But on the other hand, they’re all pretty much strangers, so she kind of does live alone. Maybe you could say she lives semi-alone, or only alone at night when she goes to bed,” Jenna prattled on. “Before she left, she brought a real nice basket of goodies to the office to thank me for being so nice. It was really sweet. But kinda sad too. It seemed like she really wanted to move here.”

      “Why didn’t she?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe Mrs. Parrish didn’t want her that close.”

      “Did she say that?” Amber probed.

      “Not really. It just seemed like she wasn’t too excited about her mom being so close by. I guess she didn’t really need her around. You know, she had her nannies and stuff. One of my friends was her nanny when her first daughter was a baby.”

      Amber felt like she’d struck gold. “Really? How long did she work there?”

      “A couple years, I think.”

      “Is she a good friend of yours?”

      “Sally? Yeah, me and her go way back.”

      “I bet she has some stories to tell,” Amber said.

      “What do you mean?”

      Is this girl for real? “You know, things about the family, what they’re like, what they do at home—that kind of thing.”

      “Yeah, I guess. But I wasn’t really interested. We had other stuff to talk about.”

      “Maybe the three of us could have dinner next week.”

      “Hey, that would be great.”

      “Why don’t you call her tomorrow and set it up? What’s her name again?” Amber asked.

      “Sally. Sally MacAteer.”

      “And she lives here in Bishops Harbor?”

      “She lives right next door to me, so I see her all the time. We grew up together. I’ll ask her about dinner. This’ll be really fun. Like the three musketeers.” Jenna skipped back to her desk, and Amber went back to work.

      She picked up the contract and put it on the desk in Mark’s empty office so they could discuss it that afternoon when he got back from his appointment in Norwalk. She looked at her watch and saw that she had twenty minutes to finish and freshen up before Daphne’s arrival. She returned two phone calls, filed a few loose papers, and then went to the bathroom to check her hair. Satisfied, she went to the front lobby to watch for Daphne’s Range Rover.

      It pulled up at exactly twelve thirty, Amber noticed, appreciating Daphne’s promptness. As Amber pushed open the glass door of the building, Daphne rolled the car window down and called out a cheerful hello. Amber walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and hoisted herself into the cool interior.

      “It’s great to see you,” Amber said with what she hoped sounded like enthusiasm.

      Daphne looked over at her and smiled before putting the car into gear. “I’ve been looking forward to this all morning. I couldn’t wait for my garden club meeting to be over. I know it’s going to make the day so much easier to get through.”

      “I hope so,” Amber said, her voice subdued.

      They were both quiet for the next few blocks, and Amber leaned back against the soft leather seat. She turned her head slightly in Daphne’s direction and took in her white linen pants and sleeveless white linen top, which had a wide navy stripe at the bottom. She wore small gold hoops and a simple gold bangle bracelet next to her watch. And her ring, of course, the rock that could have sunk the Titanic. Her slender arms were nicely tanned. She looked fit, healthy, and rich.

      As they pulled into the driveway of the Tidewater Country Club, Amber drank it all in—the gently winding road with precision-cut grass on either side, not a weed in sight; tennis courts with players in sparkling whites; the swimming pools in the distance; and the impressive building looming before them. It was even grander than she had imagined. They drove around the circle to the main entrance, and were met by a young guy in a casual uniform of dark khakis and a green polo shirt. On his head was a white visor with the Tidewater logo embroidered in green.

      “Good afternoon, Mrs. Parrish,” he said as he opened her door.

      “Hello, Danny,” Daphne said and handed him the keys. “We’re just here for lunch.”

      He walked around to open Amber’s door, but she had already stepped out.

      “Well, enjoy,” he said, and got into the car.

      “He’s such a nice young man,” Daphne said as she and Amber walked up the wide stairs into the building. “His mother used to work for Jackson, but she’s been very ill the last few years. Danny takes care of her and is also working to put himself through college.”

      Amber wondered what he thought about all the money he saw thrown around at this club while he nursed a sick mother and worked to make ends meet, but she bit her tongue.

      Daphne suggested they eat on the deck, and so the maître d’ led them outside, where Amber breathed in the bracing sea air she loved so much. They were seated at a table overlooking the marina, its three long piers filled with boats of all shapes and sizes bobbing up and down in the choppy waters.

      “Wow, this is just beautiful,” Amber said.

      “Yes, it is. A nice setting to remember all the wonderful things about Charlene and Julie.”

      “My sister would have loved it here,” Amber said, and meant it. None of her perfectly healthy sisters would have even been able to imagine a place like this. She tore her gaze away from the water and turned to Daphne. “You must come here a lot with your family.”

      “We do. Jackson, of course, heads right for the golf course whenever he can. Tallulah and Bella take all kinds of lessons—sailing, swimming, tennis. They’re quite the little athletes.”

      Amber wondered what it would be like to grow up in this kind of world, where you were groomed from infancy to have and enjoy all the good things in life. Where you made friends almost from birth with the right people and were educated in the best schools, and the blinds were tightly drawn against outsiders. She was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness and envy.

      The waiter brought two tall glasses of iced tea and took their lunch order—a small salad for Daphne and ahi tuna for Amber.

      “Now,” Daphne said, as they waited. “Tell me a good memory about your sister.”

      “Hmm. Well, I remember when she was just a few months old, my mom and I took her for a walk. I would have been six. It was a beautiful, sunny day and Mom let me push the carriage. Of course she was right next to me, just in case.” Amber warmed to her subject, embellishing the story as she continued. “But I remember feeling so grown-up and so happy to have this new little sister. She was so pretty, with her blue eyes and yellow curls. Just like a picture. And I think from that day on, I sort of felt like she was my little girl too.”

      “That’s really lovely, Amber.”

      “What about you? What do you remember?”

      “Julie and I were only two years apart, so I don’t remember much about when she was a baby. But later, she was so brave. She always had a smile on her beautiful face. Never complained. She always said if someone had to have cystic fibrosis, she was glad it was her because she wouldn’t have wanted another child to suffer.” Daphne stopped and looked out at the water. “There was not one ounce of unkindness in her. She was the best person I’ve ever known.”

      Amber shifted in her chair and felt