The day after Howard’s funeral, I did an internet search for Marcia Grable, Kat’s former yoga teacher/stalker. She was still in the area, now running her own studio called Lotus Yoga.
Kat had told me Marcia was mentally unhinged. And yet the yoga teacher was the only other person I knew of who had been excommunicated by Kat. I sat staring at my computer, tapping my fingers on the table, trying to decide what to do. Go over there and meet her or drop it altogether? But I needed answers, and Kat had made it clear—or at least, her father had—that she wasn’t going to speak to me.
I couldn’t leave it alone. I stood, grabbed my handbag and headed out the door.
* * *
I arrived at Lotus Yoga just as a class was ending. Dozens of sweaty women streamed out of the studio, each clutching a rolled-up yoga mat. Once the crowd had thinned, then disappeared, I headed inside.
The yoga studio was clean and open and smelled like oranges and mint. In the front there was a small shop that sold yoga mats, blocks, straps and fifty-five-dollar sweatshirts emblazoned with the Lotus Yoga logo. In the back, past the shop area, there was a large space with hardwood floors and mirrored walls. I looked around, but there didn’t seem to be anyone on duty.
“Hello?” I said. My voice sounded small and tentative in the open space.
“I’ll be right out,” came the perky response. A moment later, the owner of the voice appeared from a back room I hadn’t noticed.
“Hello,” she said, smiling warmly. “I’m Marcia. How can I help you?”
Marcia Grable didn’t look like a crazy stalker. Then again, I wasn’t sure what a crazy stalker was supposed to look like. Marcia was absolutely gorgeous—tall and very lean with long blond hair, caramel tanned skin and excellent posture.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m...” And then I stopped. Somewhat unlike me, I hadn’t planned on what I was going to say. Did you really stalk my best friend? You look far too chilled out to be a stalker. It didn’t seem like a great conversation starter.
The woman waited, smiling patiently.
“Alice,” I finished lamely.
“It’s nice to meet you, Alice. Are you interested in signing up for a series of yoga classes?”
“Yes,” I said and then immediately felt guilty for the lie. “Well, actually no. That’s not why I’m here.”
Marcia looked at me curiously.
“I’m not sure how to say this in a non-weird way. But do you by any chance remember Kat Grant?”
The Zen disappeared from Marcia’s face, replaced by a wary, watchful expression.
“What do you want?” she asked. Then she shook her head and said, “Actually, never mind. I don’t care what you want. I’d just like you to leave.”
I held up my hands, fingers spread. “No, really. I’m not here to bother you.”
“It’s too late for that.” Marcia picked up a cordless phone. “Do I need to call the police?”
Until recently my only interactions with the police involved the occasional parking ticket. Now the mere mention of the police made me deeply uneasy.
“I’m sorry I startled you. I’m not here to upset you,” I quickly added.
“Then why are you here?”
I hesitated. Marcia lifted the phone again, her finger hovering near the talk button.
“I’m just looking for some information.”
Marcia crossed her arms, still holding on to the phone. “What kind of information?”
“I know Kat,” I said. “She’s my friend. Or she was my friend. I don’t know if she still is or what to think. It’s just her sister-in-law mentioned your name to me once, when she was warning me about getting too close to Kat... Something’s happened, and... Anyway, I thought you might be able to help me. I’m so sorry if my coming here is an imposition.”
To my surprise, Marcia smiled. She also set the phone down on the counter near her cash register.
“Do you want to go get a chai tea?” she asked.
* * *
We headed to a nearby Starbucks, where Marcia ordered her chai tea. I opted for a latte.
Marcia looked around. “Let’s sit over there.” She nodded to a corner of the coffee shop.
I was glad she had picked a table that was somewhat private. Jupiter was a small town in many ways. I had already recognized a mother from Seaview Country Day sitting across the coffee shop, immersed in a conversation with a friend. I also suspected that a few of the women wearing tank tops and cropped yoga pants had come here straight from Marcia’s last class. I doubted she was any more eager to have our conversation overheard than I was. Actually, the very fact that the coffee shop was so crowded, with raised voices bouncing off the tiled floors and walls, worked in our favor. An eavesdropper would have to work hard to overhear what we said.
Marcia popped the plastic top off her tea and poured in two packets of sugar. I must have looked surprised—I would have pegged her for one of those healthy types who viewed sugar as a form of poison—because she looked vaguely guilty.
“I have a sweet tooth,” she explained, stirring her tea with a wooden stick. “So, Kat Grant. I haven’t seen her in years, and suddenly her name keeps popping up everywhere.”
“It does?” I asked, wondering if the police had spoken to Marcia, too. It was possible. Kat might have given Marcia’s name to the police. That would make sense if Marcia had really stalked her. But I didn’t want to bring up the police investigation and risk spooking her.
“You didn’t hear that Kat’s husband died? It was on the front page of the paper last week,” Marcia said. She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said you were good friends with her.”
“Oh, no, I did know that. I went to his funeral yesterday,” I told her.
“I’m not exactly sure what you want from me,” Marcia said.
“I was hoping you’d tell me your version of what happened between you and Kat.”
“And why should I do that?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Because I’m starting to wonder how well I know the person I thought was my best friend.”
Marcia laughed without humor and took a sip of her tea. It apparently wasn’t sweet enough, because she tore open another packet of sugar and added it to her cup.
“My guess is that you don’t know her nearly as well as you think you do,” she said. “But if you’re looking for answers about what makes Kat tick, I’m not sure I can help you.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
“I met Kat years ago, when I was working as an instructor at Bliss Body Yoga,” Marcia said. “Kat would come in two or three times a week. She made a point of telling me I was her favorite teacher, which was, of course, incredibly flattering, since I was a fairly new instructor at that time.” She stopped and thought about this. “Actually, I think that’s part of Kat’s appeal, right there. It isn’t just that she flatters you. People throw around compliments all the time. ‘I like your hair’ or ‘Your dog is so cute.’ But Kat’s different. It’s like she can almost instantly figure out what’s most important to the way you see yourself, then she compliments you on that.”
I thought uneasily about the many times Kat had praised my intelligence. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, Alice. You have the most extraordinary mind.
“It may sound silly, but at that time, I had a lot of anxiety about teaching yoga,” Marcia continued. “I’d get incredibly nervous before every class, to the point that I’d hide in the bathroom, trying not to throw up. I was always worried my clients would be thinking the whole time that I didn’t know what I was doing or that I wasn’t as good as other yoga teachers they’d taken classes with.”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all. I used to teach. It’s hard standing up and speaking in front of people, being the authority,” I agreed.
“Especially when you’re starting out.” Marcia nodded. “And I don’t know what you taught...” She paused.
“I was a college professor,” I said. “I taught in the math department.”
“Oh. Wow.” Marcia blinked a few times, then returned to stirring her tea. “Well, that’s different. You probably had a degree and credentials. I mean, you go through training and certification to teach yoga, of course, but even so, I felt like a fraud at first. So when Kat told me how great my classes were, it made me feel terrific. Like I was doing what I was meant to do.” She looked up at me. “It was pretty powerful.”
“And, of course, you started feeling happier and better about yourself when you were around Kat,” I said slowly. This was starting to sound alarmingly familiar.
“Exactly. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Marcia said, raising a hand, “your friends should make you happy when you’re around them. That’s the point of having friends. But with Kat...it’s different. When she does it, it’s to manipulate you, because she wants something from you.” She stopped and shook her head. “Even after all this time, I’m still not entirely sure what it was she wanted from me. Or maybe it’s just that I still can’t believe what she wanted.”
“What do you mean?”
Marcia breathed in deeply. “Okay, but I’m warning you—this is going to sound a little crazy.”
I actually hoped it would sound crazy. That Marcia’s friendship with Kat wouldn’t remind me—more than it already had—of my friendship with her. But I smiled and said, “I’m sure it won’t.”
“Kat wanted me to have an affair with her brother,” Marcia said.
I was wrong. It sounded completely bonkers. A small part of me was disappointed that I wouldn’t find answers to my many questions here, but mostly I was relieved. Kat was right. Marcia was disturbed.
Just then, one of the baristas dropped something behind the coffee bar that clattered loudly to the floor. Everyone looked up, startled by the noise. The barista flushed with embarrassment, while her coworkers began to tease her for her clumsiness. I used the brief interlude to think of an excuse to extricate myself from this conversation and leave Marcia to her overly sweet tea. Nothing came to mind.
“I knew you’d think it sounds nuts,” Marcia continued. She laughed without humor.
“I didn’t say that,” I said carefully.
“Okay, look, you wanted to know,” Marcia said. “And that’s what she wanted. She couldn’t stand her brother’s wife.”
“Ashley.”
“Right, Ashley. Awful Ashley. That’s what Kat called her. She used to joke that Ashley lived on a diet of wine and bitterness,” Marcia recalled.
She suddenly had my attention again. This was exactly how Kat had described Ashley to me.
“She was convinced that Ashley had trapped her brother... I can’t remember his name,” Marcia said.
“Josh,” I supplied.
“Right, Josh. How could I forget?” Marcia said, shaking her head. “I think I’ve been trying to repress the whole thing. Anyway, Kat wanted to break up their marriage.”
“What?” This was starting to sound contrived. “Why would she want to do that? And even if she wanted to, how would she manage it?”
“The why is easy. She hated Ashley and she wanted her out of the family.”
I didn’t doubt that Kat disliked Ashley—she had admitted that to me herself. But I had a hard time imagining her plotting to break up the marriage. Marcia read the skepticism on my face.
“I thought it was crazy, too,” Marcia said. “I told Kat that she shouldn’t get involved. Besides, Josh and Ashley have, what, two or three kids together? And this was almost ten years ago, so they were still pretty young at that point. Kat didn’t seem to care that her plan would have meant those kids, her nieces and nephews, would have their family broken up.”
I hadn’t intended to interrupt her—especially now that she was talking freely—but I couldn’t help myself. “Wait...” I splayed my hands in front of me, nearly knocking over my latte. I pushed it to the side. “She had a plan? An actual plan to get them to divorce?”
Marcia straightened in her seat, tucking her hair back over her shoulders. “She wanted me to seduce Josh.”
“But...how?” Then, worrying she’d take offense, I added, “I mean, you’re obviously gorgeous.”
Marcia laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not like men just see me and divorce their wives on the spot. Hardly. I mean, hell, if I had that sort of power, I’d head to Silicon Valley and pick off a billionaire.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“That’s very kind, but no. That’s not what I meant. And it’s not what Kat had in mind,” Marcia said.
“What did she have in mind? I don’t mean to pry, but this just sounds...” I was going to say crazy, but I stopped myself.
“Crazy. I know, I told you it would.” Marcia inhaled deeply through her nose, then exhaled loudly and almost instantly looked calmer. When she saw me watching her, brow furrowed, she smiled and said, “It’s ujjayi pranayama. We use it in our yoga practice as a way to calm the body and mind.”
“Maybe I should sign up for some classes.”
“Maybe you should.” Marcia smiled. “Anyway, it all started because Kat was having a lot of conflict with Ashley around that time. They were planning a party for Kat’s parents’ wedding anniversary together, and Kat pretty much hated everything Ashley suggested. I remember Ashley wanted there to be a theme—I think it was Cherry Blossoms in the Spring or something like that. And Kat kept saying, ‘It’s an anniversary party, not a fucking high school prom!’”
Marcia had an uncanny ability to mimic Kat’s fast-paced speech.
“And then she’d say something like ‘I wish Josh had married someone like you, Marcia. Someone calm and grounded.’ She’d say that a lot. Like, if she could go through a catalog and handpick her future sister-in-law, she would have chosen someone more like me. Which, okay, I know that sounds a little odd, but I have to admit, it was flattering.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“But it was also harmless. Or at least, it was at that point. Kat and Ashley were just spending too much time together, and it did seem like Ashley was going out of her way to be annoying. She’d say stupid crap, probably just to wind Kat up. I thought Kat was just venting,” Marcia said with a shrug. “The way people do.”
“But at some point it presumably moved past venting.”
“Yes.” Marcia looked down at her tea cupped between her hands. “This is the part where it starts to get really weird. Kat invited me to go away for a weekend. To Amelia Island. Have you ever been there?”
I nodded. It was a resort island in northeast Florida. Todd and I had once taken the kids there for a week. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”
“It is,” Marcia said. “And it was Kat’s treat. Which was... Well, I didn’t have much money at the time. So even though it felt weird letting her pay for everything, I was excited to get away.”
Yet another similarity to my friendship with Kat, I realized with growing unease.
“She booked us in at a beautiful hotel right on the beach,” Marcia continued. “And the weekend started off great. We hung out by the pool, went to dinner and then had cocktails at the hotel bar. That’s when Kat told me her brother was there.”
“Where? At the same hotel?”
Marcia nodded. “Yep. He was there with some of his friends for a guys’ golf weekend.”
“Did Kat know he’d be there ahead of time?”
“Of course. That was the whole point of our being there, although I didn’t know it at the time. Anyway, I asked if we shouldn’t go say hello or invite him to join us for a drink. She said no, it would be much more fun to play a practical joke on him.”
“What sort of practical joke?”
“She said, ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if when he went back to his room, you were naked and waiting for him?’”
“Jesus,” I whispered.
“I know. That was her plan.”
“And you went along with it?”
“God, no! Of course not. But we were drinking a lot that night—wine at dinner, cocktails at the bar. There was something about Kat that made me...I don’t know, want to please her, I guess. She was paying for this whole weekend, after all, and I didn’t want to be a killjoy. So I laughed and pretended I thought her plan was funny.” Marcia blushed and looked down at the table. “I know how dumb that sounds. Trust me, I’ve spent a lot of time regretting that I didn’t tell her right then and there I didn’t want anything to do with it.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
Marcia’s laugh was a sad, broken sound that made me dread what she was about to tell me.
“I was pretty drunk, and honestly, there’s a point when I don’t remember anything,” Marcia said. “I’ve always wondered if Kat might have drugged me. It certainly would have been easy enough for her to slip a date rape drug into my glass. I know, I know. It sounds crazy. But one minute we were in the restaurant, the next...I woke up in her brother’s hotel room. Naked.”
I stared at her, at a loss for words. “So you went through with it?”
“No!” Marcia said, holding up both hands. “I didn’t sleep with him.”
“It’s actually none of my business,” I said.
“No, it’s not, but I’m telling you anyway—I didn’t fuck him,” Marcia said. “Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he didn’t fuck me, since I was obviously not in control of the situation.”
“So what did happen? How did you even get into his room?”
Marcia shrugged. “I have no idea. I assume Kat got a key somehow. She has a talent for convincing people to do things for her. Or maybe she just bribed someone who was working in reception. It probably wasn’t that hard. Anyway,” she continued, “when I woke up, Josh was there. He was sleeping sitting up in an armchair. Fully clothed. When he woke up, he started crying.”
“Josh was crying,” I repeated. I couldn’t picture it. The few times I’d met him, he’d been so smug, so self-conceited.
“He was really upset and worried his wife would find out about it, my being there in his room overnight.” Marcia shook her head and her face softened. “I hadn’t even been attracted to him before, but I actually was a bit then, seeing how in love with his wife he was.”
“Did you tell him that Kat had wanted to play a practical joke on him?”
“Yes, of course. I had to explain why I was there. And he said—” Marcia stopped, waiting for an older couple to move slowly by our table. The man walked with a cane and gripped his wife’s arm to steady himself. Once they passed, Marcia twisted her head from side to side, checking over her shoulder to ensure no one could overhear, before lowering her voice to a whisper. “Josh said, ‘I should have known that fucking cunt was behind this.’”
“He said that about his sister?”
“He knows her better than anyone, right?”
For some reason, this was the most chilling thing she’d told me yet. I shivered and looked down to see that the fine hairs on my arms were standing on end.
“What did you do then?”
“What do you think I did? I dressed and I got the hell out of there,” Marcia said. “And that’s when it got really weird.”
“Weirder than waking up in Josh’s room?”
“Yes, even weirder than that.” Marcia drained the rest of her tea.
“Do you want another?” I asked, gesturing to the paper cup, but Marcia waved me off.
“No, thanks. Anyway, I went back to the room that Kat and I were sharing. She was wide-awake and waiting for me. She’d even ordered room service. She was dying to hear what had happened.”
“Between you and Josh,” I clarified.
“Yes. I know, I thought it was gross, too. But she wanted every detail. And the creepiest part, the part where I said I couldn’t remember anything, seemed to excite her. Not sexually. At least,” Marcia said with a shudder, “I hope not. But it was like the amnesia made it an even better story.”
“I still don’t understand how this was supposed to end his marriage. Was she hoping he’d confess the infidelity to Ashley? Or that he’d want to see you again and you’d end up having an affair?”
Marcia shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe it was part of a larger plan. I know she had a private detective working for her, someone she’d hired to follow her husband when she thought he was cheating on her. Maybe she was planning to hire him to follow her brother and have him take photos of Josh with me or someone else. Or maybe she just wanted to throw a grenade into their marriage to see what would happen.”
“All this because she didn’t like Ashley?” It was hard to keep the skepticism out of my voice.
Marcia looked at me. “All because she hated Ashley,” she corrected me. “And she wanted her out of the family. I thought you were friends with Kat. Haven’t you figured out that she always has to have her way? Always.”
“What did she say when you told her you didn’t have sex with Josh?”
“Oh, she was pissed off. She kept saying, ‘Well, you were really drunk, how do you know?’ And I pointed out that there weren’t any—” Marcia paused “—um, fluids. She just laughed and said he probably wore a condom. I mean, do you get how weird this is? I’m a grown woman. If I drink too much, it’s my own responsibility, but at the same time...if a man had sex with me and I wasn’t conscious while it was happening, that would be rape. Remember, this was the person who was supposed to be my best friend, and she was basically hoping that was what happened.”
“But you weren’t raped,” I said.
“No. I’m one hundred percent sure, thank God. But still. Isn’t it seriously screwed up that she wanted that to happen?”
She stared at me as though waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know what to think.” The Kat I knew would never have done such a thing. A part of me was still hoping that the entire story was bullshit. That all it would take was a few days of digging and I’d find out that Kat and Marcia had never gone on the trip or, if they had, that Josh and Ashley had been in Paris that weekend.
I’d find out that this woman really was delusional. That Kat really wasn’t a monster.
“You don’t believe me,” Marcia said. She shook her head again and looked disappointed. “I knew you wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t say that,” I protested.
“You didn’t have to.” Her blue eyes were hard, like chips of glass. “I guess it’s a good thing I saved all of her texts, isn’t it?”