Chapter 13: Whitney's Tape

Whitney held her phone out in front of her with both hands.

Her thumb was shaking when she pressed play.

Travis's kitchen came out of the speaker first, a refrigerator hum and a spoon against a cup.

"Whitney walks in at one-twenty," Dolores said. Her voice was crisp and bored. "Cream dress, the ring on her left hand where the nurse can see it."

"And Kels?" That was Travis.

"Kelsey will go to her. Kelsey has never said no to Whitney in her life."

"Mom, this is good."

"It is tidy. Now the money."

Behind me, Travis took one step into the hall.

"Whit, turn that off."

She didn't.

"The joint account goes to the dealership the hour that girl walks out," Dolores went on. "She will walk out. Girls like her always leave quietly."

"She loves that ring."

"She will love the church more. Put the forty-one thousand toward the deposit on your real wedding, and don't tell Whitney where it came from."

"You think I'm stupid?"

"I think she'll cry in the right places," Dolores said. "That's all I need from her."

The recording clicked off.

The hall was so quiet I could hear the showroom floor polisher running somewhere behind a wall.

"Whit," Travis said. His voice had gone soft and warm. "Babe. You know how my mother is."

"That was October seventeenth," Whitney said. "A Saturday. You made me a grilled cheese after."

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