Pre-Meditated Murder Read online

  “I’m sorry, Rene,” I replied. “I was so self-absorbed this morning that I didn’t think about how inconvenient it was for you to come here with the twins. I should have picked up Bella at your place.”

  Rene let go of the stroller and waved her hand through the air. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nice to be out in the real world. If I spend any more time cooped up at home with the girls, my voice will get stuck in singsong.” She glanced out the window. “Are you sure the SUV is safe in the garage, though? I don’t have one of those permit thingies to put in the window.”

  I knew Rene would bring Bella along, so I’d left instructions for her to park in my studio’s cool, underground parking spot. “You’ll be fine,” I assured her. “They don’t tow unless someone complains. Besides, everyone knows Bella.”

  “How could they not?” Rene quipped. “Bella’s a legend.” She pointed to an empty table near the window. “Give me a chance to get settled in and we’ll talk.” She held up a finger. “But no yelling.”

  While Rene maneuvered the stroller into an almost-space between tables, I sipped my latte and mused about how Mocha Mia’s mismatched décor symbolized my muddled life. Scarred wooden tables adorned with Tiffany-style lamps. Gourmet coffee served in mismatched mugs. Oil paintings intermixed with crude crayon drawings. All reminded me of my newly renovated Ballard home, built on the foundation of a troubled relationship.

  Rene tucked a green baby blanket around the brunette twin, Amelia, and a blue one around the blonde beauty, Alice. She took a long, slow drink from her mocha and nibbled at the edge of her cake. When she finally looked up, her eyes were uncharacteristically serious.

  “Okay, Kate. Start from the beginning, but go slow. Between sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones, I can barely remember my own name. What happened last night?”

  “You mean Sam didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what? He said you were obviously upset, but the babies were crying so loud that he couldn’t hear you well enough to make out why. For a minute, he thought you said Michael was married.”

  At the sound of the M-word, my throat tightened. “He is.”

  Rene sighed. “I don’t have the energy for sarcasm, Kate. I—” She stopped, midsentence. Her eyes grew wide. She jumped to her feet and shouted, “Michael is married?”

  Amelia jolted awake and began screaming. The barista ducked behind the espresso machine. An elderly woman at the table next to us gave Rene a foul look.

  Rene mouthed the word sorry, whisked Amelia out of the stroller, and rocked her hips back and forth, still standing. “Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand? Between running Pete’s Pets, dealing with your house remodel, and living with you, I don’t see how Michael had time for a one night stand, much less a whole second family.”

  “Oh, believe me, I didn’t misunderstand anything.” I ripped my napkin into teeny, tiny pieces, imagining with each tear that I was separating Michael’s head from his body. “They’re separated. Michael claims that he hasn’t seen her since he lived in Cannon Beach.”

  “Oregon? When did he live there?”

  “Almost three years ago, right before he moved to Seattle and opened Pete’s Pets. Get this: he said that he didn’t think it would be an issue.” I swept the napkin confetti into a pile and smashed it. “We’ve been living together for nine months, and he claims that it never occurred to him to marry me.”

  Rene stopped swaying and peered at me skeptically. “Kate, you said that earlier, but I don’t believe it. In fact, I don’t believe any of this. Michael loves you. Anyone not completely blind can see that. What exactly did Michael say?”

  To be honest, I wasn’t sure. I’d been so shocked and upset that I hadn’t wanted—hadn’t been able—to listen to him, at least not completely. As I closed my eyes and tried to remember, formerly unacknowledged details came into focus: Michael’s pained expression; the guilt in his voice; the tears in his eyes as I slammed the door behind him. “Maybe I misspoke. He said that when we first started dating, he didn’t think we’d ever get married.”

  Rene sat in her chair again. “That, at least, makes sense. You weren’t exactly hungry for commitment back then. Michael had to trick you into going out on your first date, and you broke up with him midway through the second.”

  Amelia started fussing again. Rene unzipped a zipper on the left side of her shirt and nestled the baby up to her breast. The sound of the infant’s suckling calmed me, like an ancient, primordial lullaby. My breath slowed. My throat softened.

  Rene continued. “So, Michael says he and his wife have been separated the entire time you’ve been dating?”

  I nodded yes.

  “And you believe him?”

  I considered her question. How could I know what to believe anymore? “I think so.”

  “What’s his excuse for not telling you?”

  “He doesn’t have one, at least not a good one. He was too chicken, I guess. He claims that by the time he realized the marriage would matter, it was too late to tell me. He was trying to get divorced before I found out.” I frowned. “He didn’t count on the great birthday fiasco.”

  Rene’s eyes softened. “I’m pissed at Michael, Kate, and I certainly don’t agree with his actions. But they make sense, in a clueless man sort of way.” She buried her nose in Amelia’s hair and inhaled. “You’ve kept secrets from Michael, too. Don’t forget about your not-so-dead mother.”

  Prickly defensiveness tingled my spine. “That wasn’t the same. Not even close. My relationship with Dharma didn’t have anything to do with Michael. Besides, do you remember how mad he got when he found out she was alive? Michael wasn’t just clueless, he was a hypocrite,” I huffed. “Not to mention a criminal.”

  “Criminal?” Rene’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me he’s a polygamist …”

  “No, there’s only one Mrs. Michael Massey, thank goodness.” I paused, oddly wary about sharing the rest of the story. “It’s a sham marriage. Michael married this Gabriella woman so she wouldn’t be deported. That’s why he didn’t think twice about casual dating.”

  Rene leaned back in her chair and slowly shook her head back and forth. “Oh, Michael. You’re an idiot.”

  “No kidding. If the feds find out, he could do prison time.” I hugged my arms to my chest, subconsciously protecting my heart from further injury.

  “Why did he do it? For money?”

  “Heck if I know,” I scoffed. “All he would tell me was that it was ‘complicated.’”

  Rene absently stroked Amelia’s cheek. “You know, if the marriage was fake, Michael wasn’t cheating by dating you. Not really. You two can get past this. He’ll get a divorce, and you’ll move on with your life.” Tears welled in my eyes. “It’s not ideal, but …” Rene’s voice trailed off. “Kate? Are you crying?”

  I quickly wiped under my eyes. “Michael promised her that they’d stay married until she gets citizenship. She applied a couple of months ago, but the process can take a long time. Years, sometimes.”

  Rene frowned. “That’s a long time to wait.”

  “Longer than you think. I know it’s old fashioned, but I don’t want to get pregnant until we’re married. At this rate, I could easily be in my late thirties before we start trying to have kids. Michael contacted his—” I choked on the word. “He contacted his wife a couple of months ago and asked for an early divorce, but Mrs. Michael said no. She said if they don’t stay married, her citizenship application will be delayed. She’s not willing to wait.” I felt my teeth clench. “At least not unless Michael pays her for it.”

  Rene started. “Pays her?”

  I nodded.

  “How much does she want?”

  “More than Michael can come up with, at least on his own. Pete’s Pets is like Serenity Yoga—built primarily on sweat equity and bank loans.”

  “Has he consulte
d an attorney?”

  “Yes. Evidently she’s legally entitled, scam marriage or not. He signed an Affidavit of Support as part of her green card application.”

  “Why did he do that?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a requirement. She promised him that she’d never ask to collect on it, and he believed her. They were supposedly going to walk away from the marriage without ties, emotional or financial.”

  Rene didn’t reply, but her face clearly conveyed her opinion: Michael was an even bigger idiot than she’d thought.

  I shrugged in reply. “You know Michael. He believes in people. But now he’s stuck. He can pay her what she wants now, or risk losing more in court.” My jaw started to tremble. “Rene, he spent every penny of his savings on the house remodel. We could move, but …”

  I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. My childhood home was all I had left from my father. Selling it seemed impossible.

  For several long seconds, Rene’s and my silence was broken only by murmured conversations at the tables around us and the contented cooing of the infant at Rene’s breast. When Alice began stirring, Rene detached Amelia, closed the left zipper, and lifted her toward me. I cradled the tiny angel while Rene unzipped the opposite side and began feeding her twin. The yearning for a child of my own was so strong, I was surprised my breasts didn’t start lactating.

  “So what’s next?” Rene asked.

  “I don’t know.” I smiled ruefully. “I considered killing Michael in his sleep last night, but I couldn’t. I’d already kicked him out of the house.”

  “Where’s he staying?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably with Tiffany.” At one time, the idea of Michael bedding down anywhere near his blonde bombshell employee would have made my head explode, but I now knew that Tiffany was like a little sister to him. His foray into her apartment would be strictly of the on-the-couch variety.

  Rene continued cradling Alice in one hand while sipping chocolate-laced caffeine from the This Is Probably Vodka mug she held in the other. “All of this sucks, Kate. But I don’t think you should give up on Michael. Not yet. He’s been good to you—good for you, for that matter. Since Michael moved in with you, you’ve become more mature. More balanced.”

  “Why are you taking his side?”

  “I’m not.”

  I scowled.

  “Seriously,” she continued, “I’m not. I will always be on your side. Michael made a mistake. A bad one. If I’d found out that Sam was married while we were dating, I’d have strung him up by his man parts. But honey, Michael is still a good guy, and you know it. Besides, I feel partially responsible.”

  “Responsible? For what? For Michael being married, or for him not telling me?”

  “For the way you found out. If I hadn’t blabbed to you about seeing him at Trinity Jewelers, you wouldn’t have expected an engagement ring last night. Michael might have come up with a solution.”

  I was about to assure her that the only acceptable solution would have been for Michael to admit that he was married in the first place, but my phone interrupted. I glanced at the screen, then tossed it back in my purse. Rene cocked her head quizzically. “Michael,” I said. “He’s left a dozen messages already this morning.”

  “What does he say?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I deleted them without listening.”

  “Don’t you think you should at least hear him out?”

  “I can’t.” My upper lip trembled. “Not right now. I’m too mad. If I talk to him now, I’ll …” My voice trailed off.

  “You’ll leave him.” Rene finished. She placed her hand on my arm. “Sweetie, are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “No. That’s why I can’t talk to him. I need space.”

  The opening refrain of “Strangers in the Night” sang from Rene’s purse—the ringtone she used for unprogrammed callers. She dug around in her shoulder bag, pulled out the phone, and frowned at the screen. “Pete’s Pets. It’s probably Michael.”

  “Don’t answer.”

  She pressed the screen and started talking. “Hi Michael. Yes, she’s here.” I held up both hands and forcefully shook my head. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.” I imagined Michael’s charming, blue-green eyes begging for mercy.

  Rene listened for several long moments, slowly rocking Alice back and forth. “I see,” she finally replied. “When?”

  I grabbed Rene’s napkin and jotted, When what?

  Rene waved me aside.

  “What do you think that will accomplish?” More silence. “Yes, I’ll tell her. I hope this works, for both of you.” She ended the call and tossed the phone back into her purse.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He loves you. And he’s sorry.”

  “He called you for that? He told me that himself last night.”

  “He also wants you to know that he’s leaving town.”

  A beach-ball-sized lump formed in my throat. “Leaving? To where?” As upset as I was with Michael, part of me (probably the delusional part) thought that we’d get through this. Not today. Probably not next week. But someday. That would never happen if he left Seattle.

  “To Cannon Beach.”

  The beach ball turned into a lead weight, which dropped on my stomach. “He’s going back to his wife?”

  “No. He wants to fix things with you. In fact, he wants you to go to Oregon with him. He thinks the three of you might be able to work out an agreement in person.”

  “An agreement? What, now he wants us to be sister wives?” I didn’t try to disguise my sarcasm.

  Rene placed Alice in the stroller, then gestured for me to give her Amelia. “Michael wants to make this right, Kate. Is it that impossible for you to let him try?”

  I stared fixedly at the table. “I can’t do it, Rene. Not now. I’ll strangle Michael if we spend time alone.” I was lying, of course. Anger was my escape valve. The tool I used to cover up the pain of being abandoned. It always had been. But Rene already knew that.

  She gazed at my scalp for several long seconds, then reached into her purse. “Who said anything about you and Michael being alone?” She pulled out her cell phone again and hit redial. “Hi, Michael, it’s me. I talked to Kate. We’re going with you.”

  three

  Which is how, on the following Tuesday, I found myself coaxing my ancient Honda Civic down Highway 101 en route to Cannon Beach. Rene acted as copilot while munching on barbecue potato chips smothered in pineapple jalapeño salsa. The sweet, spicy scent filled the car and made my stomach rumble. Bella, who’d finally given up begging for handouts after two hundred unsuccessful miles, sprawled across the back seat, snoring. Michael, Sam, the twins, and Rene’s two five-month-old labradoodle puppies, Lucy and Ricky, followed in Rene’s new mommy car, a Passion Red Volvo SUV.

  Michael and I hadn’t worked out our relationship dilemma, but we’d reached two tentative agreements. The first was that we wouldn’t break up—yet. The second was that we’d continue living apart, at least for now, to give me some much-needed space. I couldn’t talk about Michael’s betrayal without my head and heart simultaneously combusting, so we agreed to put discussions of his marriage on hold until after we returned from Cannon Beach—where he’d hopefully talk Gabriella into granting him a divorce. It made sense, in a convoluted, keep-all-of-your-options-open way.

  Rene didn’t agree with my strategy. She wanted Michael and me to work things out quickly, before I had time to officially bolt. Rene usually knew me better than a Seattleite knows Gore-Tex, but in this case, she was mistaken. I might someday forgive Michael, though I wasn’t sure I could ever forget. But that day wasn’t today. In this instance, time was on Michael’s side.

  I had plenty of substitute teachers to cover my yoga classes, and Tiffany volunteered to keep an eye on the studio. She and Chad, her under
employed hot-yoga-teacher boyfriend, would take turns staffing Pete’s Pets. Michael wasn’t completely comfortable having Chad work at the pet store, but Chad needed the money and Michael didn’t have any better options.

  I was surprisingly blasé about abandoning Serenity Yoga for an unexpected trip of unknown duration. Then again, what did I have to lose? With my home life in shambles, I couldn’t have concentrated on the business anyway. Besides, if Serenity Yoga had remained standing during my Orcas Island fiasco a year ago, it could withstand anything.

  And now I had Tiffany. She’d been helping out at the studio a few hours a week, and I’d grown to trust her. If she ran into a problem she couldn’t solve on her own, she would either consult the building’s manager, Alicia, or call me. As for Chad, well, he was Michael’s problem.

  Rene crumpled the empty potato chip bag and licked spicy red salsa off her fingertips. She pointed at a sign for the Tolovana Beach state park. “Take this exit.”

  Nervousness tickled the lining of my stomach. Arriving at our destination made the trip seem more real. I still wasn’t sure how I’d survive meeting Michael’s wife with my sanity intact, but without Rene along, I’d have ended up in the loony bin for sure. I owed her. Big time.

  “I know I already told you this,” I said, “but thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For coming with me. Having you and Sam along means the world.”

  “Nonsense,” Rene replied. “It’s nothing. I’m the one who should thank you. The timing is perfect.” She pointed toward a side road that led to the beach. “Turn here. Sam’s on paternity leave for another week and a half, and I’m between catalogues for Infant Gratification. This might be our last chance to take a family vacation.”