Chapter 15 - The Husband I Buried

Now

By the time I arrived back at the office, the day was in full swing.

The familiar chaos should’ve grounded me like it usually did – the smell of burnt espresso, the low hum of printers and phones, the soft thud of heels against polished floors – but it all felt off, like I’d stepped into someone else’s life.

‘Hey, boss,’ Carl called, appearing with his usual bright smile. He pressed a large takeaway coffee into my hand.

‘You’re bringing me presents after ten a.m.? That can’t be good.’

Carl lowered his voice to a whisper, his smile dropping like his cover had been blown. ‘Elizabeth’s waiting in your office. She said it was urgent.’

‘Of course she is,’ I muttered, taking a sip. The coffee scalded my tongue, bitter and over-roasted, but I welcomed the sting. At least it felt real.

‘Did you reheat this?’ I asked.

‘Sorry. I thought you’d be here sooner.’

I opened the door to my office and stopped.

Elizabeth was there, sitting on my couch like she owned the place. Perfect posture. Perfect suit. A fixed smile that looked painted on.

‘Well,’ she said, without preamble, making what might have been taken for professional interest sound like she was expecting a full report on my case. ‘How did your meeting with Rebecca go?’

I took a seat behind my desk and set my coffee in its usual spot. ‘Fine,’ I said, keeping my tone light. I looked at the door. ‘How did you get in? I thought I locked the door behind me.’

‘You did,’ she replied lightly. ‘But I make a point of having keys to all the rooms. You never know when someone might . . . misplace theirs.’

Her almost-smile dropped, leaving her face unnervingly still, locked in a Botox freeze-frame.

‘Mackenzie, we need to talk.’

That tone. Calm but still precise. I braced myself. She stood and closed the door with deliberate care before continuing.

‘You’ve been distracted.’

Was she talking about me turning up late because of the break-in?

I preferred not to ask. Instead, I took a gulp of reheated coffee and prepared myself.

‘Elizabeth, I always do my work. I have a great track record.’

‘Usually, I’d agree. But you left Ms. Ryan waiting hours without a response.’

How did she know that?

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You’re right, and it won’t happen again.’

‘She’s a very wealthy client, who has offered to contribute generously to our firm.’

I nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘When you’re done preparing her defense strategy, I’d like an update,’ she said, her icy eyes trained on me.

It took me a second to comprehend what she’d just said. Elizabeth never asked for ‘updates.’ Not like that. Was she testing me? Watching to see if I could still perform?

‘It’s an unusual case,’ she said, watching me for a reaction.

‘Why? People are accused of killing their spouses all the time.’

‘Yes,’ she said, standing to leave. ‘But they don’t usually set them on fire.’