Free The Mirror and the Mask by Ellen Hart

favorite room in the house because it was her retreat, where she could shut the door and lock out the world. She read industry magazines, looked at sales boards, called clients, tried every way she knew to bury herself in work. But all she could think about was how she and Kristjan would accomplish the murder. She made a few notes, worked out a plan that seemed to have promise. But then, feeling frightened, she burned the pages in a crystal ashtray on her desk.
    She left her study around four to spend a few minutes in thekitchen getting dinner in the oven. Just a simple roast and vegetables. Tuesday nights were family nights at the Bowman house. That usually meant dinner together, but sometimes, time permitting, they might drift downstairs to the family room to watch a movie. It was hard to get everyone’s schedules to match, which was why Tuesday dinner had been designated holy family time. It had been Susan’s idea, but as usual, Jack had proposed it to the kids. Thus, they assumed he was the caring parent, the one who wanted to stay connected.
    More often than not, it was like pulling teeth to get Jack to honor the commitment. That’s why, when he called around five, saying he was running late, she assumed he was going to bail. But he surprised her. He said he’d be home as soon as possible. He asked her to hold dinner until he got there. She found the entire interaction strained but maintained a pose of sweetness and compliance. She promised they’d all be waiting for him when he returned.
    Back in her office, Susan watched the light turn the snowy hills in the distance a deep twilight blue. Dinner was usually on the table by six thirty. Sunny was up in her bedroom. Curt generally arrived around six. That meant she had only a few more minutes to herself. Dreading the evening ahead, she felt her resolve begin to crumble. She’d promised Kristjan no communication, but she rationalized that she often talked to him about business matters. Pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of her wool cardigan, she tapped in his number.
    He answered immediately.
    â€œWhy are you calling? I thought we said—”
    â€œI had to hear your voice. I’m drowning over here.”
    â€œThis isn’t a good time.” His voice was just above a whisper.
    â€œPlease, just—”
    â€œMy wife lost her job today. We’ve been . . . talking.”
    She was amazed. Barbara had been working at the same place ever since Susan had known her. “Kristjan, no.”
    â€œI haven’t sold a house in four months. I’ve only listed three in the last six. I’m not even sure how we’re going to pay this month’s mortgage, let alone the bills for Anna Lisa’s surgery.”
    â€œOh, baby, I can help you. Let me help. Please.”
    â€œI can’t talk. I’ve got to go.”
    â€œJust tell me you haven’t changed your mind.”
    â€œDon’t call me again.”
    He sounded distracted. “But—”
    Speaking more loudly now, he added, “Thanks so much for your concern, Susan. I’ll tell Barbara you phoned.” He cut the line.
    â€œWho was that?” asked Sunny.
    Susan swiveled around. Her daughter was standing in the doorway. For just a moment, Susan thought she might be sick. She hadn’t heard the door open. “It was Kristjan Robbe.”
    â€œYou called him ‘baby.’ ”
    â€œI did?”
    â€œHe’s your employee.”
    â€œHe’s not my employee, sweetheart. We’re colleagues.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œSunny, you know Kristjan and I go way back. We’re friends.”
    Sunny was a tall girl, like her father. She also had Yale’s scowl, his dark, intense eyes, and his sulky nature, although for sheer brooding ability, nobody could beat Curt. Susan had loved Yale, but he’d passed on his gloomy nature to their children, which wasn’t always easy to be around.
    â€œI