"Now? Isn't that a little crass?"

"Suddenly you have qualms, Marsha?"

"No, I just…" Marsha glared at her brother. "Fuck."

"Get in the car, kids. Don't fight anymore. I want to show you the little surprise your father and Mona had planned for me."

The two exchanged uneasy glances. "Do we have to?" Teddy whined.

"Yes."

Groaning, Marsha got up from the table and threw her backpack over her shoulder. Teddy's stomach rumbled loudly because it was way past one and he was used to eating a big lunch. They trudged into the garage.

"Where's the Volvo?" Teddy demanded when he saw only the Porsche and the Mercedes.

"I've upgraded." Cassie got into the Mercedes and slammed the door, thinking about her pathetic old Volvo that used to live outside in the driveway. All she'd gotten for the damn thing was a thousand dollars. How had money become so important? She was positively drowning in thoughts she'd never had before. She'd never cared that much about money, never thought about it. Except she'd always thought she'd be rewarded for sticking with Mitch and someday she'd have a lot of it.

"Do you think Daddy's dead yet?" Teddy whimpered.

Marsha punched him in the arm. "Shut up, Teddy."

Marsha took shotgun in the passenger seat next to her mother. Teddy sat in the back. Neither said anything as they drove out of their pleasant development to Northern Boulevard, then turned east to Glen Cove, and finally across Duck Pond Road.

"She was moving here?" Marsha was surprised.

Cassie slowed the car to a stop in front of the garish giant black and gold painted gates with the Sales logo of grape bunches, wine barrels, fleurs-de-lis, and crossed fucking swords.LE REFUGE was painted in gold on a green estate sign.

"Holy moly." Teddy whistled.

"That's the ugliest fucking thing I have ever seen," Marsha pronounced judgment on the gates.

Now Cassie was sure she was doing the right thing. She wanted her children on her side. She wanted them to feel Mona's evil, to know who their father had been. She pulled into the approach and kept quiet as the luxury car she hadn't been allowed to drive until now cruised up the hill, passing the majestic oaks lining the drive. Her gut tightened just as it had the first and second times she'd come to the place where her husband was planning to live when he left her. The house hadn't been difficult to find. The address was on all those ABC Carpet and Home delivery slips.

"Holy moly," Teddy said again when the castle came into view.

They covered the last thousand feet or so of driveway and stopped in front, right next to the sporty red Jag parked there.

"This is the ugliest house I have ever seen. Look at that turret," Marsha pronounced judgment on the house, craning her neck for a better look.

"Mom, she's here," Teddy said uneasily.

"She won't show herself," Cassie said.

"But what if she does?"

"Go key the car, Teddy. I always hated the bitch," Marsha commanded.

"What's that?" Cassie asked.

"You know, make scratches all over it with a house key," Marsha said.

Teddy giggled nervously. "You really want me to?"

"I'll stand behind you in case she's watching," Marsha promised.

"Go key it yourself," Teddy said.

Cassie killed the engine and got out of the car. "Come on, kids. I want you to see something."

"I don't want to see any more. It's a horrible house, terrible taste. Key the car, Teddy, and let's go." Marsha's lips were tight. "That bastard." About her dad.

"Get out, Teddy," Cassie ordered.

"I don't want to key the car, Mom. What if she calls the cops?"

"Get out, Teddy. You're not keying anything."

Teddy groaned and dragged himself out of the backseat. "Okay, okay."

They all got out and stretched. The stone house had two turrets and huge leaded windows in the living room and dining rooms. French doors beckoned to patios without furniture. In spite of the Jag out front, it had a forlorn and empty look about it. They walked slowly around the house, and Marsha's breath caught at the view down to the pool, the guest house, and tennis court. She was dead silent when she walked back to the French doors and pressed her nose to the glass.

"Jesus." Her Steinway piano, unmistakable with its cherry case, and complete with the matching leather tufted seat, was angled in a corner next to an antique harp. A rococo chair was placed behind the harp to create the illusion that someone actually played it. Maybe a decorator's joke, because it was missing several of its strings.

The furniture that held the place of honor in front of the cavernous fireplace, however, was not Marsha's piano. It was the Napoleon III settee and two armchairs with women's breasts and animals' claws that had been Cassie's mother's. At the time of her death, Cassie had wanted to put the furniture in storage for Marsha, or even herself someday. But Mitch had said no. He'd called the pieces "horrors," and like the piano, they, too, had disappeared. A quarter of a century ago, he claimed to have given them to Planned Parenthood with the rest of Cassie's mother's junk. Compounding the insult, he'd complained that he'd gotten only a small deduction. But he hadn't given it away. He'd stored the pieces in one of his temperature-controlled warehouses and kept the secret just to hurt her. Then they resurfaced, and Mona had them reupholstered.

Teddy put a hand on Cassie's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Cassie was moved by her son's sudden compassion. She let her head fall to his shoulder, and he patted it. The three of them closed ranks for a group hug, the first in a long, long time.

"Look on the bright side, maybe she'll move when he dies," he muttered.

"Ira says she won't have the money to keep it up." Cassie blew her nose and pulled herself together. She was ready to go now. Her children had seen the betrayal, and now she had cremation arrangements to make.

"Well, yes, she does have money," Teddy corrected.

"What are you talking about, Teddy? I told you the will is unchanged. We'll have something. And, of course, I'll have the life insurance."

Marsha's face flushed an angry red. "He gave her my piano."

"Mona has the life insurance," Teddy said, deadpan.

"No, Teddy, you're mistaken. I'm the beneficiary on Daddy's life insurance."

Teddy pressed his lips together. "Uh-uh."

"What?" Cassie clutched her heart.

"He changed it years ago. There were new papers. I checked. When he dies, she gets the life insurance. Mom!"

Cassie's knees buckled. Oh, shit. She'd worked so hard to allow him to die just so Mona would get the life insurance and half the company? Mona won? She won?

"Mom!"

Cassie was sitting on the ground. She didn't know how she'd gotten there. Her chest was heaving. Both kids were trying to haul her to her feet. Mona was peering out at them from an upstairs window. Cassie didn't see her. She had only one thought. She had to stop the termination. "Get me to the hospital," she gasped. "Hurry."