Page 24 of Fate and Fortune

“That’s decent of him,” Tara said. “But then I’ve never heard anything bad about the Winslow siblings.”

“He’s not like his old man. Everyone knows that,” Brian replied with a nod.

They sat in silence for a minute. Alli picked up a fork and poked at the food on her plate. It was some kind of stir-fry, green and red and orange, smelling of ginger and garlic. Tara was an excellent cook, but Alli simply didn’t have much of an appetite after what had happened.

“The weird thing is,” she mused, more to herself than Brian and Tara. “There’s something off about the whole robbery scenario. Why move the body? Why put her in her car? If you just killed someone, wouldn’t you want to get as far away as possible, not stick around to rearrange the crime scene?”

Brian pointed his fork at her, his face breaking into a half-smile.

“You know you’re not a reporter anymore, right?”

“Sorry. Old habits, I guess,” Alli admitted. “You know I love a mystery.”

“How did Sam hold up through it all?” Tara asked. “He’s had a rough couple of weeks. First his father’s heart attack, now this.”

“He compartmentalized,” Alli explained. “Kept moving, kept making decisions, stayed focused. But I could see it sitting just under the surface, the way his jaw tightened every time Leigh’s name came up.”

In fact, she had marveled at his ironclad control. She had no doubt her emotions today had been written clearly in her expression.

“He’ll need that ability to compartmentalize, I’m betting,” Brian replied.

“He already feels responsible,” Alli said, turning her water glass in her hands. “He ordered the security upgrade like a man trying to close a door that’s already swung wide open.”

“He shouldn’t blame himself,” Brian started, but Tara cut in.

“I know this sounds awful,” she said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, her voice dropping into the tone she used when she was about to say something she knew was a little uncomfortable. “But this could be a huge opportunity for you. This is a job that most people would kill for.”

A beat of silence fell over the table. Tara’s face changed the moment the words left her mouth, her eyes widening, her cheeks flushing.

She slapped her hand over her lips and groaned, “That didn’t come out the way I intended.”

Brian pressed his lips together, clearly fighting a laugh.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my bloodthirsty wife. Don’t turn your back on her.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Tara said, her cheeks red. “I just meant… Shit, I don’t know what I meant. It was a terrible thing to say, and my only excuse is this second glass of wine with dinner.”

“It’s okay,” Alli said, even though it wasn’t, not really. She adored her sister-in-law, but occasionally, the woman said things out loud that were better kept quiet. She always meant well, but she could be awkward now and then. “I don’t want someone else’s tragedy to be my opportunity anyway. I don’t think anything good can come from that.”

The table went still. Brian reached over and squeezed Alli’s wrist once, a silent acknowledgment of everything she wasn’t saying. Alli looked down at her mostly untouched dinner and then to the leather binder she’d been carrying this morning that now sat on the counter behind her. It was a blatant reminder that she would go back tomorrow. She would sit at a desk that wasn’t hers, answer phones meant for someone else, and try to make herself useful in a place where everyone was mourning.

She couldn’t stop herself from wondering if Leigh had known she was in danger, if she had tried to run or call for help. She wondered if whoever had killed Leigh was still out there in their little town, or if they were long gone, headed for the state line with someone else’s wallet in their pocket.

Mostly, though, she wondered what the hell she was doing. She’d walked into an interview and walked out with a job she’d never applied for, in a building where murder had just happened, with a boss who’d taken one look at her resume and decided she was the one. It made no sense. None of it.

But then, when was the last time the world truly made sense? Perhaps when she was a child, life was uncomplicated. Now nothing seemed simple or straightforward.

Brian cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to her dinner companions.

“For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. Taking the job, I mean. It’s weird, and it’s messed up, but it’s still a job, and you need one. And from what I’ve heard about Sam Winslow, he’s a decent guy. He won’t expect you to be Leigh.”

“It’s not that,” Alli said, pushing her food around with her fork. “It’s more that I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never worked in finance. When I was going to be someone’s low-level assistant, it didn’t seem so scary, but now I’m working for the CEO. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“You’ll learn,” Tara said. “That’s what new jobs are for.”

Alli nodded, but she didn’t feel convinced. There was something else, something she couldn’t quite put into words. There was a feeling that she’d stepped into a story that had started without her, with characters and conflicts she couldn’t begin to understand. She was an outsider here, in Winslow Heights, and at Winslow Financial.

The binder sat on the counter, reminding her of all that had gone on that day. It had been a graduation present from a good friend, and she used to say that it had brought her luck. Inside it was everything she’d brought to the interview: her resume, her references, the notes she’d made about the company. None of it had prepared her for what had happened. None of it had told her how to be the person who took a dead woman’s place.