Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
“I’d never use your name in print, Miss Hughes,” I assured her. “No one would have any way of knowing your identity as CeeCee or Bettina.” I meant it. I’d make up a new name for the manuscript. I’d identify her with another network in Atlanta. “If you will help me,” I added after a beat. I held her gaze and tried to look like someone threatening to expose her.
Bettina bit her lower lip with perfect veneers. “Chet made a choice—a stupid, childish choice—to stay with my father when we left. He did it so he could be near Violet. I never forgave him for that.” She took a deep breath, considering her pink nail polish. “I’m disgusted by my brother’s lifelong infatuation with that woman. Violet thought she was so much better than we were...” She caught herself and stopped midsentence. “Even after he married Loretta he’d talk to me about her, asking me to use my resources to update him with news of Violet, whether she had children or was helping with some fundraising event or bought a new car. It was ridiculous. He knew she was married to a successful doctor in Birmingham. He’d even sneaked into their wedding somehow, though he wasn’t old enough to drive.” She threw her eyes to the ceiling at the memory. “I don’t know what more I could tell you. There’s only one thing. It’s no doubt a syrupy, nauseating declaration of eternal love. Chet gave it to me years ago, sealed in an envelope, with the request I get it to Violet after his death. Of course, she was gone, too, so I put it away somewhere.” She walked to a filing cabinet in the corner of her office and unlocked the bottom drawer. Bettina stood and shrugged after digging for a minute. “It’s not here. Maybe I have it at home.”
“Please, please, Miss Hughes,” I said, “if you could find it and mail it to me I’d be so grateful.” I handed her a piece of paper with my address and cell number.
Bettina Hughes reached for Rick’s hand and then mine, giving us a firm and dismissive shake. “I really must get back to work now. I will look when I get home later, and I’ll mail the letter to you if I find it. Please excuse me.” She swept gracefully back to her chair and began reading some sort of paperwork without another glance.