The Golden Couple by Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen

Author:Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen [Pekkanen, Greer Hendricks and Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2022-01-04T17:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

AVERY

NOTHING ABOUT POLLY is adding up.

After I rifled through Polly’s purse, I decided to remain in the area. Luckily, I’d tucked my laptop into my bag before leaving home, so I was able to work in the coffee shop down the street from Coco, giving me a chance to check it out in advance of the Monday meeting between Marissa and her old friend.

According to the résumé Marissa forwarded to me, Polly worked as a nanny and as a sales associate at Anthropologie prior to her job at Coco. When I talk to the mother of the young girls Polly babysat for, she verifies Polly’s employment, saying Polly was a devoted babysitter who really seemed to love the kids. Then I call Anthropologie, pretending to be the owner of another local boutique, but the manager isn’t available. Rather than leave a message, I decide to try again later. People tend to be more candid when they’re caught off guard.

I keep envisioning Polly trying on the floral scarf and tying it exactly as Marissa had worn it. It wasn’t just the off-center bow that caught my attention. The way Polly tilted her head and held her body as she stared in the mirror—she transformed from a slightly awkward, anxious young woman into someone who was confident and assured. It was as if she wanted to be Marissa.

I take a sip of my espresso and continue typing, detailing everything I can remember about Marissa’s assistant. Polly slept at Coco the night the mysterious note was pushed under the door, practically guaranteeing she’d be the one to find it. Instead of waiting and giving it to Marissa or simply calling her, Polly showed the note to Matthew.

After Matthew shared the note with me, my focus was on him and Marissa. The anonymous message thrust them toward the edge of a new crisis, one that I’m working to reel them back from.

Polly was in my periphery then. Now I bring her into full focus.

She was flustered when we all clustered around the note, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. Agitated . . . or perhaps a little thrilled?

It’s common for perpetrators to visit the scene of the crime, to crave involvement as their misdeeds play out.

Marissa, Matthew, and I assume we know who wrote the message, which could be interpreted as longing, determined—or slightly sinister.

But maybe we all got it wrong.

What if Polly wrote the message?

I run through possible scenarios in my mind. Polly is secretly in love with Matthew, and trying to cause trouble in the Bishops’ marriage. Or, she could be obsessed with Marissa.

I set aside my questions about Polly and spend a couple of hours attending to other work, glancing up when a man takes a seat at the table directly next to mine, even though a number of empty tables are scattered around the coffee shop. I straighten my back and brace myself in case he’s from Acelia, but he simply pulls out his phone and begins playing an online game of Scrabble.

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