Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

Kimberley sliced through the roast with a butter knife. Juices pooled around it and the meat practically fell apart. Emily opting for butter knives rather than steak knives showed how confident she was in her cooking. As soon as it hit the inside of her mouth, the meat melted: a perfectly seasoned, perfectly cooked roast.

“This is really good.”

Emily gave a small smile. She brought the wine glass to her lips and took another big gulp, like she was purposefully trying to drink away her façade.

“Thank you,” she said humbly.

Kimberley stabbed her fork into a chunk of potato and popped it into her mouth. It was buttery with the perfect mix of seasonings—garlic, salt, pepper, parsley, and smoked paprika. She didn’t know exactly what to say, so she busied herself with her food, waiting for Emily to start the conversation.

“I heard about Hannah Brown,” Emily said, lifting her head cautiously.

“Everyone has.”

“There are no secrets in small towns.”

“So I’ve learned. It’s one of the reasons I’m confident that we’ll find the person responsible.” Kimberley tossed another forkful of vegetables into her mouth.

“I know you will.”

“Did you know Hannah Brown?” Kimberley asked idly.

“We went to high school together, but we weren’t all that close. Any time I saw her around town, she was always pleasant, asked about the boys, and I asked about her little girl…” Emily brought her hands to her mouth with a gasp. “Her little girl. Oh my, poor Isobel. Growing up without a mother.” Emily shook her head and pulled her hands away from her face.

Kimberley noticed Emily’s bright eyes had a slight glaze to them, the wine going straight to her head, and the realization of Isobel growing up motherless washed a sadness over her.

Kimberley glanced around the kitchen and dining room again, taking in the surroundings. This amount of space was unheard of in the city, and she envied it, hoping one day, she’d be able to provide a home like this for her and Jessica.

“I just love this house.”

She gave a tight smile. “It keeps me busy.”

“It must. It’s huge. Plus, your two boys, your husband, a thriving business. You have it all.”

Emily took another sip of wine and laughed… bitterly, looking over the top of her glass at Kimberley. “Appearances can be deceiving,” she said quietly, but Kimberley heard it.

She raised an eyebrow, carefully cataloging that bit of information to ask Emily about later. Perhaps after she had a little more wine, she’d be primed to open up a bit more.

Emily took only a few bites of her food, drinking more than she was eating. The uptight, old-fashioned version of her started to disappear midway through dinner.

Kimberley stabbed her fork into a carrot and popped it in her mouth, also cooked to perfection. She couldn’t help but make a pleasurable sound.

“Are these fresh from the farm?”

She nodded. “My garden is the only thing of value here.”

She puffed out her bottom lip slightly, taken aback by Emily’s comment. “What do you mean by that?”

Emily sat up a little bit taller, splashing more liquid courage down her throat before speaking. “Wyatt sells our vegetables down at the farmers’ market—brings in more money than the wheat does. Something about agricultural commodities prices falling. Interest rates rising. Something like that. Wyatt likes to act like financial stuff is over my head. Foolish man.” She shook her head.

Kimberley nodded, agreeing with her, trying to encourage her to keep talking.

“Wyatt thinks he’s so smart. Ha. He bought some really expensive farm equipment we don’t even need. Put it all on credit and now we can’t even afford to pay for it.” She took another drink of her wine, setting the glass down with force.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yes. Obviously, I don’t think the business being bad is entirely his fault. He’s under a lot of pressure from my dad. He’s not an easy man to please.”

“I’ve kind of gathered that,” Kimberley said carefully.

“Don’t take it personally. That’s how he is with everyone.” She rolled her eyes. “Patriarchy at its finest.”

Kimberley couldn’t help but smile. Emily was surprising her in more ways than one, and there was nothing better than spilling your guts while filling them with a little booze.

“Glad to hear I’m not the only one he’s not entirely fond of.” She took another bite of her food. “How’d you and Wyatt meet?”

“High-school sweethearts. I know, how cliché,” Emily said with a laugh.

“And David didn’t like him when you two first got together?”

“My dad didn’t like any boy I dated. You know how dads are.” Emily shrugged her shoulders.

Kimberley swallowed hard. No, she didn’t know how dads were. She knew how her dad was.

“It took him a long, long time to warm up to Wyatt. But now, it’s like they’ve gone back to square one. I feel bad for my husband, because he’s doing his best to appease my dad and save this farm. But he’s still coming up short. I don’t know what to do. All I can do is put on a brave face in front of my kids, especially since Wyatt rarely shows his face around here now. He’s always at the damn Trophy Room.” She huffed, then drank the rest of her wine.

On the outside, the farm seemed like it was doing well and Kimberley assumed David had money as he had retired early. If he did, why wasn’t he helping out? Emily walked into the kitchen and grabbed another bottle, uncorking it and bringing it back to the table. She refilled both glasses.

Wyatt’s been at The Trophy Room a lot lately. The information finally registered with Kimberley. She’d been drinking more than she usually did, but something clicked there. Wyatt. Ryan. The Trophy Room. The whispered conversation she had seen Wyatt and Ryan having just a few days earlier. Ryan not having an alibi for the night of Hannah’s murder.

“The Trophy Room? I’ve been there a couple of times. David warned me it was a place