My phone rang and I grabbed it, recognizing the landline at the lakehouse and expecting Rick’s voice.

It was Victoria, on the cell phone number Rick must have furnished her.

“Ronni,” she began, “I should explain about Carrie Douglas. She worked in a bank where Rick used to provide security, a pretty young blond thing. She flirted with him incessantly and even called our house.”

“And this was when you were still married?” I took a hearty swallow of Moscato.

“Yes, it was. And Rick wrote her little notes and took her to lunch, though I found all this out much later. I didn’t really suspect anything until he rushed off to the hospital in the middle of the night. The phone rang and he was gone. No explanation.”

“Were they having an affair?”

“I don’t know if you’d call it that, but he encouraged her and things obviously went too far. Carrie thought she was in love with my husband. She took a handful of Xanax and Percocet. She died before reaching the hospital, but she left behind a note detailing all the many failures in her life. Not having Rick was one of them.”

“That must have been horrible for him.” I couldn’t help it. I felt defensive, whether from wine or love or both.

“It was horrible for a lot of people,” Victoria answered. “But it didn’t happen in a vacuum. Rick loves attention. He loves the chase. I told you that.”

“That may be, Victoria. Are you saying he was responsible for her death? It sounds like there’s a lot more to the story.”

“I never said he was directly responsible. He can tell you the rest. Rick’s on his way there now, and the boys and I are moving to a hotel tomorrow. Good luck, Ronni.”

She hung up without another word.

A few hours later he knocked at my door.