“And you know what else? I think Mother must have said something to Simon after all. Maybe it was Sabrina who went to Mother’s. Maybe she’s the one who pushed her and killed her and then called Simon, and now they’re lying to cover their tracks.” She looked at Blaire in horror. “Now they’re after me.”

Blaire was looking at her intently, nodding slowly. “Your father told me that Lily mentioned the trouble with Sabrina. So it was definitely on her mind. Let’s see what Anderson says.”

The door chimed. “That must be him.” Kate stood.

When Anderson walked into the kitchen, he looked surprised to see Blaire there. He nodded. “Dr. English, Ms. Barrington.”

“Can I get you anything?” Kate asked.

“No, thank you.” He took a seat across from Kate.

“I’m worried about having Simon in the house.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about that. But first I have some questions that are quite personal. Perhaps Ms. Barrington could leave us alone for a few minutes?”

Blaire stood up before Kate could answer. “Of course. I’ll be in the study.”

After she’d gone, Kate looked at the detective. “What is it?”

He sighed. “I need to ask you about the car accident when your fiancé died. That summer you were in therapy—intense therapy, apparently.”

Kate’s face was hot. She didn’t want to talk about the accident. And how did he know she’d been in therapy? Her medical records were private. “What does that have to do with anything? And how did you even know about that?”

“Actually, when we questioned Ms. Mitchell, she told us.”

Sabrina? Simon had to have told her . . . “How did she know? When did she tell you this?”

He studied her face a moment and then continued. “Your husband is her alibi and she’s his for that night. They claim they were both working late. I called her back in for questioning yesterday, and she continues to insist she was working late that night with your husband. She mentioned that your husband was getting worried about your behavior, that it’s been erratic and that he’s concerned you might be having another nervous breakdown.”

They were trying to make her look crazy to Anderson. But why? So he would dismiss her suspicions? She looked at Anderson. “First of all, I never had a ‘nervous breakdown.’” She put the word in air quotes. “Not that it’s at all relevant now, but I went through a tragedy. I saw a therapist that summer for trauma related to the accident. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve dealt with anxiety most of my life, but I handle it—just like millions of other people. I am not delusional.” She was up now, pacing.

Anderson said nothing; he watched and waited.