He was charming, but his charm was a sham, not to be trusted. He was fantastic in bed, and what was she supposed to feel about that now? About any of this? Alix said abusers would isolate their victims. He wanted to meet her parents, but so far didn’t know any of her family or friends, other than Alix and Sasha, and she didn’t know his. She had never met a single one of his friends. Did he hang out in the cop bar he had mentioned?
His work hours were very irregular. She didn’t know where he was Halloween night, when Elle Goodman disappeared. He helped find the third body at Big Devil Creek—and she had no reason to think the two cases were connected. His wife’s death was ruled accidental, but why was an inquest needed in the first place? It was ridiculous to entertain such thoughts. What did his betrayal of her have to do with murder? He had never been rough with her, never more forceful than she could handle.
Boyfriend app. It had a name. It was legal, according to Brett, with permission. Would it be too humiliating to ask Hal Knight if it was true? Who would give permission for such a thing? Cowed women willing to give up privacy to a jealous mate? If people could buy it and use it legally, could it really be wrong? What made it so terrible? What was worse—that she had trusted him or that she had said foolish things and felt exposed?
And in the next breath she knew it was an appalling thing to do, beyond comprehension in its cruel, mocking failure to trust. She had kept a secret from him, and he had found it out anyway, in this sneaky, underhanded way. If she had told him in the first place, asked him to understand, defused his anger instead of compounding it with her secrecy, it might even have drawn them closer. He had failed to trust. She had failed to trust.
How self-righteous it seemed now for her to be so hard on Brett for a single act of infidelity on a night when he drank too much because he had been fired and couldn’t tell her why. He had made her feel disrespected. She had rejected him. She had been seduced by Frank. Brett had been seduced by Lacey, but he had done it while committed to her. He was in the wrong, but he had yielded to temptation in a moment of heightened emotion, and she had walked right into it with her eyes wide open.
Why did Frank go to the park to confront Brett when he knew she and Aiden would be on the way? He didn’t know what time she would get out of church; she hadn’t known for sure herself. Brett had said on the phone he would be waiting, and perhaps Frank had thought he would be early enough and be gone before they arrived—and he nearly had. But he had known since Friday night what had passed between them. Had he been waiting on Saturday for her to say something and decided only later to take action? Why not go to Brett’s place instead? Maybe he didn’t know where he lived—she wasn’t sure she knew now. He had said “the orchard,” but she had told him that much; he might not know which one.
Why didn’t he hit Brett back? He could have, but he wouldn’t be able to prove Brett had thrown the first punch. She could not picture Brett doing such a thing! He admitted he had, but it was impossible to imagine. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she supposed.
Aiden enjoyed the movie, not to mention the buttery popcorn, but he hadn’t understood everything, and she couldn’t answer all his questions because she hadn’t paid enough attention. Her negligence didn’t seem to bother him much. She remembered when she was his age, seeing the world as so full of mysteries, never more than half understood, that any single unanswered question was not very important. Maybe it was more so for him, when he was so often unable to understand the conversation around him. What did the motives of animated characters matter when Mama kept changing father figures on him? He was so curious, so intelligent, and she was a bad mother to allow herself to be distracted from helping him negotiate a frustrating world.
He was happy tonight, full of energy, splashing in his bath, laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos. He was glad to have seen Brett again, and although Brett hadn’t promised anything, he had left Aiden with the sense that they could meet again before too long. To distract herself more than him, she asked what he wanted to do for his upcoming seventh birthday, and later couldn’t even remember his answer. Their ritual of reading a story together before bed had now evolved into him reading to her, but she had no idea what he was reading.
As soon as he was down for the night, she called the Cougar Bar & Grill and asked for Alix. “I know you’re busy,” she said, “but I wanted to be sure you still want us to come over tomorrow. I need to talk.”
“Yes, of course,” Alix said without hesitation.
Chapter 18
Teresa had to work on Veteran’s Day, but it was a school holiday, so as soon as the breakfast dishes were done, she and Aiden went to visit Alix and Sasha. Sasha came running out and took Aiden into the back yard to play, so she climbed the steps alone. The Stars and Stripes was flying from a bracket next to the door, as always on patriotic holidays. Alix was proud to display the flag that had been draped on her husband’s casket. When she opened the door, Teresa managed not to do anything as dramatic as burst into tears, but she did give her a hug and get a bit teary. “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“I said something about you being jealous, and I wasn’t sure we parted friends.”
Alix waved that away. “It’ll always be me and you, kiddo. Men come and go, but women stick together.”
“I broke up with Frank,” she said abruptly.
“Oh, my God!” Alix grabbed her left hand. “Did you give back the beautiful ring?”
“Worse. I threw it in the duck pond.”
“The duck—Well, shit, girl! It isn’t very deep. Make him fish the damn thing out and crawl on his hands and knees to give it back to you. I know, power trips aren’t your thing, but I would. What did he do? You didn’t snag another cheater, did you?”
“No,” Teresa said. “I’m getting very good at breaking up with guys, though.”
“Come on, give,” Alix said. They went into the kitchen, where she had been folding laundry. “Here—I’ll let you help. I love folding little kid clothes, don’t you? They’re so cute. When Sasha stops being cute, I’ll make her do her own laundry.”
“When she stops being cute, you’ll borrow her clothes.” She folded a pair of Sasha’s jeans, still warm from the dryer, and then said abruptly, shakily, “Alix, he put something on my phone to track me.”
“Say what? Frank did? Like a GPS thing?”
“Worse. Brett said it was an app that lets him listen to my phone calls and maybe listen even when I’m not on the phone.”
“Like a bug? Whoa—could your place be bugged?”
“No, of course not.”
“The dude is a cop.”
“He’s SWAT; he doesn’t work with surveillance equipment. You’re making me paranoid now. He was in the house one whole evening—I couldn’t get him to leave—and he was alone while I tucked Aiden in. But why would he bother if he already had the phone app? It was easier and probably cheaper, and apparently it’s legal.”
“To bug your phone?” Alix raised her eyebrows.
“With my permission, which he didn’t have.”
“Well, I’m glad your place isn’t bugged, ’cause I enjoy our heart-to-hearts. Tell me what happened. Wait—did you say Brett said? You’ve seen him?”
She waved her hand to show it wasn’t significant. “I let him see Aiden, and Frank knew where we were meeting; that’s how we discovered it. And Brett gave him a bloody nose!”
Alix’s mouth dropped open. “Clark Kent hit Superman?”
Teresa gave a shaky laugh. “Something like that,” she said.
“So you chucked the ring in the pond and told Frank to skedaddle? When was this?”
“Yesterday after church.”
“Have you heard from him since?”
She shook her head.
“Well, he’s a man. He can’t deal with emotional women, so he’ll give you a few days to cool off. Are you going to forgive him, or are you done?”
�
�He listened to my private conversations! He’s what you said, an abuser, trying to isolate and control me. How can I forgive him? I don’t think I can even look at him.”
“Good for you,” Alix said approvingly. She smiled at the nightgown she was folding. “Little girl clothes are prettier, but sometimes I wish I’d had a boy. So…you didn’t get yourself pregnant, did you?”
“No, we used protection, except the first time.”
“And I know you can count.”
“It was all bullshit, wasn’t it? ‘Oh, Teresa, you’re so beautiful.’ He just wanted somebody he could control. I probably don’t even have pretty feet.”
“Oh, yes, you do, Terror! You have all your toes and everything.”
“Thanks, pal. And I almost let him come between us. I’ll never have anything like this again, will I? My little rebound romance. He was so charming, so seductive, and it was very flattering. What an idiot!”
“Gosh, maybe I should seduce him, get a taste of that.”
Teresa laughed without humor. “Just don’t let him touch your phone. I only use mine for calls. I’m not even sure what an app is.”
“Where is it? Do you have it with you? I’d like to give him an earful, ’cause nobody gets away with hurting my BFF.”
“I put it in a drawer. It’s turned off, and Brett even took the battery out. Did you ever hear of this? He called it a boyfriend app.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s like they clone your phone or something. He could read your texts—if you texted—and see what websites you visited.” Alix gasped. “Do you think he knows we Googled him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what to think about any of this. It’s so wrong, but it never seemed like he was controlling in any obvious way. I mean he had our whole future planned and he told me what to wear a couple of times, but he didn’t say anything when I didn’t take his suggestion. I don’t know—could the app have come with the phone? Could somebody at the phone store have done it?”
“Not if Frank was the one who intercepted your calls—if he knew what you said to Brett. Can I play devil’s advocate here for a minute?”
“This is why I like talking to you,” Teresa said. “You never take a hard line on anything.”
“Okay—from the very beginning, Frank hasn’t been a bad guy, just a little overenthusiastic, right? This is an extreme example of the same thing. He’s sort of obsessed with you, and he got carried away.”
“Are you saying I should forgive him?”
“No, but maybe give him a chance to explain; don’t condemn him unheard. If this was a TV plot, it would turn out he suspected you were an international spy and had to keep tabs on you, or—”
Teresa laughed. “You are so good for me,” she said.
“Are we sure Brett didn’t make up this app thing?”
“How else would Frank know about our conversation? Do you think I’m right to break up with him over this?”
“It’s certainly a serious breach of trust. If you did decide to take him back, you would be in a position to dictate whatever terms you wanted.”
“But I would never be able to trust him again,” Teresa said. “He gave me this great massage in Grey Harbor the first time, and he said no, don’t worry about me; it’s all about you, blah, blah, blah, like all he wanted to do was make me happy. He made me feel sexy. How could I not have known it wasn’t real? Who am I to deserve that?”
“Don’t get down on yourself. You deserve all that and more.”
“The sex was so great,” she said wistfully. “Exciting, challenging. I’ll never find anything like it again. I think I’ll become a nun.”
“Now you get why I could never replace my jarhead. We were so perfectly matched.”
Alix so rarely mentioned her husband that Teresa had to busy herself helping her get coffee to keep tears from welling up. By the time they were settled at the kitchen table, she was in an unusually confiding mood.
“The last time,” she said, “Saturday night? He—when he was probably pissed at me because I didn’t tell him about Brett—he…”
“Come on, give. You know you want to.”
Teresa got up and went to the window to make sure Sasha was safely out of hearing. She and Aiden seemed to be chasing each other’s shadows. “He, you know…went down on me.”
“No shit? Was it good?”
“It was fabulous.”
“Maybe he wasn’t pissed. Maybe he felt threatened and wanted to remind you he was the better man. Brett never did it, did he?”
“No. I mean—can you imagine? Gene did a few times, but it wasn’t much. He just wanted me to.”
“Did Frank?”
“No.”
“Brett is a good guy, though, right? Not as exciting maybe, but you were happy with him for a while. He’d be a better father anyway. Is there any possibility of you getting back with him? Sex isn’t everything.”
“With him it was…comfortable. Safe. I guess it was more at first, and it was lovely for a while.” She didn’t want to remember that it had been lovely right to the end.
“Lacey didn’t have any complaints,” Alix said.
“Oh, God, did she talk about him? He would be so embarrassed!” And the way they were talking about him this morning was a betrayal too.
“No, no, she was just, you know, very pleased with herself.”
“Yeah, that sounds like her. The best part was the way Brett was with Aiden…” She sipped her coffee and sighed. “Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic because of the mood I’m in now. I’m afraid that ship has sailed, and I’d better concentrate on going solo. I mean I can’t forget he cheated on me.” A part of her was filled with regret for what might have been, but she was afraid too much damage had been done.
“Yeah, and how long do you think Frank would have been a faithful husband?”
“Good point. If he didn’t trust me, maybe he isn’t trustworthy. I read somewhere that men who constantly accuse their wives of cheating secretly want them to—so they can watch.”
“Jeez—what have you been reading?”
“I think it was in an Ian McEwan novel. Anyway, I’m glad I decided to let Brett see Aiden. It made them both so happy. Frank was better with him than I expected, though. He said he didn’t have any experience with kids, but he did fine. I guess the SWAT hero-worship thing helped.”
“He certainly charmed the pants off Sasha.”
“Don’t even say such things—this shook me up so much it occurred to me he might be a child molester or a serial killer.”
“Back to Mary Higgins Clark. Being a controlling son of a bitch doesn’t make him a murderer.”
“I know, paranoid, huh? It’s like if he didn’t really love me, he must be crazy. “
“It sounds like you have healthy self-esteem, at least.”
“But he didn’t have an alibi the night Elle Goodman disappeared—or maybe he did, but I didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t answer his phone. And there was the thing with his wife.”
“Edris.” Alix made a face.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you; he said she went by Nikki. We should Google her again.”
“Yeah, give me your phone…oh, no, you can’t. I’ll do it later on my computer. If I turn it on when Sasha’s home, she’ll play games all day. How is it spelled?”
“He didn’t say.”
“But he talked about her? What else did he say?”
“Not much. I asked what she looked like. He was talking about his type…” She remembered what he had said—that Alix wasn’t—and quickly added, “Let’s change the subject. I want to do something special for Aiden’s birthday.”
“Oh, good. Sasha’s making something for him.”
“I can’t wait to see it. If we have a big party, we can invite Brett without it being weird.”
Alix put her hand on Teresa’s. “You know, I wanted so much to see you happy, but now we can swear off men together. Women are stronger and smarter than men, and the only reason they have
the power is they’re physically bigger than we are—and what is that? It’s what a bully relies on; it’s not real strength.”
“Brett said Frank was a bully, but he was so nice to me… Oh, you know what else he said? Brett? He called Aiden ‘my son’—accidentally, but I thought it was kind of—” She couldn’t say sweet anymore.
“We’ve given up on men, remember? Including Brett. He hit Frank, which makes him a bully too. And how do we know he isn’t a child molester or a serial killer? Does he have an alibi for Halloween?”
“Yeah, well…he’s a dope anyway.”
“That’s the spirit.” The back door banged open, and the children came in. Their cheeks were flushed with exertion in the cold air, which followed them in. “Close the door!” Alix snapped. “Were you raised in a barn?” Sasha gestured to Aiden, and he slammed the door. ”Did it start raining?” It had been threatening all morning.
“No,” Sasha said and then announced indignantly, “Aiden can run faster than me.”
“Sasha run like girl,” Aiden signed. Teresa didn’t know where he had learned that—not from her. If he had picked it up at school, at least he was interacting with other boys.
“Yeah, boys are better at a few things, you know,” Alix said. “Not many, but a few.” She winked at Teresa. “While you’re in here, take those clothes to your room. If you stay and talk to us, we’ll let you help with some other exciting chores. We might even let you do them by yourself! Girls are a lot better at housework.”
Sasha signed, “Out,” to Aiden, and they ran back outside, slamming the door.
Chapter 19
Frank called for the first time Tuesday morning, when Teresa was at work, hand feeding a ferret recovering from surgery to remove a tumor. She let the call go to voicemail and deleted it unheard, as she had when she wasn’t speaking to Brett. He kept calling all day. She couldn’t turn off the phone, in case Aiden or the school needed to contact her, but she put it on vibrate and deleted the messages.
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