I watched her face for any sign of lies. But I couldn’t get a good read on her. Was it possible Greg had lied to her? Or Jackie had lied to him about where she was? I wasn’t sure—But I wasn’t about to trust Theresa Pressley again. Still, she’d denied it like I thought she would, and now I just needed to stick to the script.

“We want to trust you, Theresa,” I said. “But getting this information wrong”—or lying about it—“and cooperating with Maggie about that story after you said you wouldn’t, well, it makes us wonder.”

Theresa stared into the fire. “I screwed up there. I’m sorry. I thought you’d be excited by the media attention, and then when I found out you weren’t, I couldn’t get Maggie to edit it out.”

“You should’ve just told us,” I said. “We didn’t ask you to avoid her because we have a grudge against her or something. There’s a good reason. There’s a good reason for everything we do.”

The large tree nearest to our fire suddenly started swaying. We all turned in that direction.

Just the wind.

Bettina jumped in, right on cue. “Kendra, I’m not sure we should—”

I held up my hand. “I think Theresa’s been holding back on us because she doesn’t entirely trust us. But if she’s going to be one of us now, Bettina, she needs to know everything.”

Theresa’s curiosity was piqued. I could see the wheels whirling in her head. At first, she thought she was in trouble with us for lying. Now she sensed a secret. Irresistible.

Alice, her voice low and lilting, chimed in, “Oh, y’all. Kendra’s right.” She stared at Theresa. “As long as you won’t repeat anything that’s said here?”

“I swear,” Theresa said quickly, holding up her hand.

“We have no proof of any of this,” I said. “It’s all just—speculation.”

Theresa was rapt. Her hair could have caught on fire and she wouldn’t have noticed.

“I need a cigarette for this.” Pia stood off to the side and lit up, fanning the smoke away from us.

“As you know, Jacqueline Hendricks was our friend,” I continued. “We all looked out for each other. But she and Greg, well, obviously, they didn’t have a great marriage. And Jackie started worrying about Daphne, Ellen’s babysitter. She became obsessed.”

Theresa frowned. “Obsessed?” she said.

I nodded. “She thought that Daphne wanted to take her place. She thought Daphne seemed a little too...comfortable in her home. With her daughter. And her husband.”

I let Theresa read between the lines. “Wait, are you saying Greg was—with Daphne?”

We confirmed the answer with silence. Only the fire cracked.