In Close by Brenda Novak Page B

didn’t have the same… prospects as Tug.”
    The fan in the other room stirred Claire’s hair as it moved from side to side but did little to cool the kitchen. “You’re talking about the money my parents had just inherited.”
    “Yes.”
    Claire had expected to hear something like this and yet it grated on her. “Do you have proof?”
    “Once I began to suspect, I wanted to know for sure. So I hacked into her email account and read their messages. They were pretty hot.”
    “But no one’s ever accused him of cheating.” Except her. Hadn’t she just asked him and Roni at the salon?
    “They hid it well. It’s too bad your mother didn’t do the same.”
    The burning in her throat threatened to choke Claire. “You’re saying you think my mom was having an affair, too.”
    “Of course. Don’t you? Why would so many people point a finger at her if it wasn’t true?”
    “Because they’re searching for answers they don’t have, so they come up with the only explanation they can.”
    She drummed her fingers on the table. “If that’s what you want to believe.”
    “Why shouldn’t I? You didn’t hack into her email account, did you?”
    April didn’t respond immediately. When she did, her voice was softer. “No. That part is pure conjecture.”
    Claire wished she’d never instigated this conversation. “So, according to you, Tug and Roni were having an affair and so was my mother. But if they’d both found happiness with someone else, why didn’t they simply divorce? How does that situation develop into murder?”
    “Far too easily, I’m afraid. Roni was making Tug feel like a desirable man, the only man for her, and you and I both know how susceptible he is to that.”
    Claire gave no indication whether she agreed with this or not. Being attractive to the opposite sex had always been important to him. The way he dressed, far younger than his age, said as much. But April didn’t know Tug, not really.
    “As long as he could provide the lifestyle she craved—the lifestyle my father failed to provide—he’d be her heartthrob.”
    Even though she wished she could prevent it, the mansion Roni lived in courtesy of her mother’s inheritance popped into Claire’s mind. She and Leanne had each received ninety thousand, which they’d spent on their houses and on school, but Tug had kept the bulk of Alana’s inheritance. “So you think it was all about money.”
    “That, and he didn’t want to lose you and Leanne.”
    Leanne’s words during their last argument came back to Claire. Her sister had stopped short of accusing Tug of murder, but she’d also said he wasn’t sad about losing Alana because it meant he wouldn’t have to worry about being separated from her children. Did a consensus make that true?
    No. She was allowing this to go too far. April hated Roni and Tug. She had a vested interest in describing them in the worst possible light. And Claire was letting her. “You don’t know how he felt about us so don’t pretend you do—”
    “You’re wrong there, too. He wrote what I just said in one of those emails.” April picked up her glass, stared at it in the light of the sun and took a swallow before setting it back down. “He really cares about you, if that makes you feel any better.”
    It didn’t. Claire was sick inside. “Most stepparents don’t go to such lengths to keep their stepchildren.”
    “But he wasn’t going to get any more. Roni had herself fixed when she married my father. He already had the four of us. She didn’t want a fifth mouth to feed. And Tug couldn’t have any of his own.”
    Claire nearly dropped her glass. “What did you say?”
    April watched her more closely. “You mean the part about Tug being infertile? You didn’t know?”
    He wouldn’t admit it. She suspected the reason for that was his ego. He didn’t want to be perceived as damaged goods or less capable, less attactive to women. But she did know. That was the problem. She’d