Best Friends Forever: A gripping psychological thriller that will have you hooked in 2018

“They were divorced when Brendon, my half brother, was a baby, and it was pretty contentious,” Todd continued. “Afterward Brendon and his mother moved to Georgia, where I guess she was originally from. We didn’t see a whole lot of him growing up. He was eight years older than me, so when he did come to stay for a few weeks in the summers, he didn’t want much to do with me.”

“So you’re not close,” Kat concluded.

“Well, no, we weren’t. Unfortunately, he passed away last year,” Todd said.

“I’m so sorry,” Kat said. “He must have been very young.”

Todd nodded in thanks. I thought he’d end the story there, but the wine was making him verbose. “It was actually pretty terrible. We were there at the time. Alice, myself, the kids. We were all at my parents’ house for Thanksgiving. Brendon was drunk, as he often was, and he fell down the stairs. The fall killed him.”

“Oh, my God,” Kat exclaimed, looking at me. “How horrific.”

“It really was,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t like to think about that night. “We called the paramedics, but it was too late to save him. I was so worried the children would wake up and see him...well, lying there. Luckily they slept through the whole thing. But it was an awful night.”

“I thought drunks never got hurt,” Howard cut in. On the word drunks, he slurred the r. “That they always walk away from car accidents.”

“It’s hard to walk away from anything when your neck’s broken,” Todd said.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Why don’t I bring in dessert?” Kat suggested.

* * *

“What an asshole,” Todd said once we were in our car.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

Todd waved me off, and he did seem sober enough, so I let it go. He pulled out of the drive, sending a spray of gravel in his wake.

“How did those two end up married? They seem like complete opposites,” he continued.

I shrugged. “It happens. Maybe he was less grumpy when they met.”

“Grumpy? Is that what you’d call him? You make him sound like one of Snow White’s seven dwarfs.”

“Well, how would you describe him?”

“I thought he was a dick,” Todd said.

I laughed and leaned back in my seat. “He really was awful, wasn’t he? From what little Kat has told me about him, I certainly wasn’t expecting Howard to be genial. But I also wasn’t expecting him to be so hostile. I got the feeling he resented our being there, and his having to play host.”

“He spent the entire night trying to one-up me,” Todd said. “When I told him I play tennis, he claimed he was good enough to play for his college team. When I told him what I do, he said he’d thought about being an architect but decided he’d make more money in finance.”

Todd’s tone was unusually bitter. I imagined I was not the only one who had been impressed by the size and scope of the Grants’ house, particularly against the backdrop of our current financial crisis. But that wasn’t something either one of us wanted to get into. And even if we had no choice but to discuss our money woes periodically, we rarely addressed Todd’s lack of career success directly. If he was frustrated by the lack of traction he’d gained in his field over the years, he dealt with it by whacking tennis balls. As for me, I didn’t think I was in any position to comment on Todd’s or anyone else’s career failures, considering how I’d unceremoniously left my cushy academic job.

“Howard played tennis in college?”

“No.” Todd laughed. “He just said they tried to recruit him, but he decided he didn’t want to play, which is such bullshit. I think he really just wanted to tell me he went to Yale. Jesus. You know how I feel about people who name-drop their alma maters.”

“I know, you’ve always hated that. I guess future double dates are out of the question.”

“I liked Kat,” he said. “I can see why the two of you hit it off. You’re very much alike.”

This surprised me. “We are? How so?”

“You’re both smart. You have similar senses of humor,” Todd said. He glanced over at me, the streetlights casting an odd green glow on his face. “Why? You don’t think you’re alike?”

“I never really thought about it,” I said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Kat. But she’s so much more—” I faltered, trying to think of the right word “—poised than I am.”

Todd let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“Alice, you are, without exception, the most poised person I have ever met.”

It is not often that your spouse of over a decade can shock you. I’d seen my husband out of his mind with grief after the loss of our daughter. I’d washed out the bowl he threw up into for three days when he had food poisoning. I knew he hated eggplant but loved foul-looking peanut-butter-and-bacon sandwiches. But I never knew he, or anyone else, thought of me as poised. After all, I experienced myself through the maelstrom of my own swirling thoughts and emotions, through joy and grief, worry and hope. I had moments of peace, but I certainly never felt poised.

I was quite pleased to know that I put up such a convincing front.

8 (#uf1d01923-31d4-5d46-91e9-d4d9540e04be)

Present Day

“It’s safe to say you weren’t a fan of Howard Grant,” Detective Demer said.

“No, I wasn’t,” I agreed. “But then, Howard went out of his way to be unlikable.”

At this, Demer gave me a quizzical look.

“That’s an interesting observation. Why do you think he did that?”