by A. J. Banner
And this—this is a vivid nightmare. The woman pulls back the curtain. She doesn’t notice me down here crouched in the darkness, but I see her face. The sculpted nose, long, blond hair. Everything distorted from my strange angle. I’m not surprised, not really. I already knew who she was. Her height, her elegant, willowy shape. But I wonder where Keith is in all this. I’m sure he’ll be interested to know where Hedra has been.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I slide down against the wall, the concrete patio cold beneath me. The wind slaps me in the face. Voices murmur inside. Hedra has pulled the curtain closed. My memories of Nathan flood in, candlelight flickering on the dinner table between us, his hand reaching across to take mine. The late nights spent talking. What are you most afraid of? he asked me once. Being left behind, I said. Not noticed. Unloved. What about you?
I’m not afraid of anything. Okay, one thing. Not being able to save someone I love.
No sound now from inside. What does that mean? I should knock on that door, fling it open, but instead I dash back to the parking lot. I get into my car, take a deep breath. My heart collapses into itself. I wait five minutes, ten. Stare at my phone. My fingers grow numb. I could send a text to Julie, but I don’t want to wake her. If I tell her what I’ve just seen, then it will be real.
In the rearview mirror, I see Nathan’s truck sitting in the darkness. Finally, fingers trembling, I send him a text.
Woke up, you were gone.
I wait, my blood rushing. A few minutes pass before he replies.
Problem I need to solve. I love you.
We need to talk, I type.
Okay. Urgent?
The question mark mocks me. Is this urgent? As urgent as a patient suffering a massive heart attack? Accident victims? As urgent as his clandestine affair? Hands trembling, I throw my phone on the seat, flip the ignition, and floor it back through town to Nathan’s place. I could have knocked loudly, demanded an explanation, but what good would it have done to make a scene?
In his house, the rooms feel dark, unwelcoming. Despite the heat wafting from the vents, I’m shivering. Mud sticks to my boots. I yank them off and leave them by the front door. I turn the house upside down, rummaging through drawers, cabinets, his desk. In his closet, I search his pockets while a part of me stands back, admonishing myself. What are you doing? You’re not even married to him. This is crazy. But he has betrayed me. I convince myself that it’s okay to furtively extract coins and rubber bands. In the pocket of his favorite windbreaker, I find the hotel receipt. He paid for a week. The receipt is dated three days ago. Heart pounding, I tuck the receipt back into his pocket. I’ve got the evidence I need.
I send him another text. I saw you and Hedra through the window.
A minute later, his reply balloons on my cell phone. You followed me?
I woke up, and you were gone. I knew where you’d gone.
It’s not what you think.
I laugh, and yet I want to believe him. Looked clear to me, I type back.
Wait there, please. Don’t go. I’ll be home in the morning. I’ll explain. I’m heading out on a long call.
Right, a long call. An emergency that requires him to stand by, maybe for hours. An apartment fire, a hostage situation, a water rescue. What do I care? But I don’t run straight home. I wait for him. Perhaps I’m in denial. I need to talk to him face-to-face.
So, I stay at his house, resisting the urge to cut his clothes into pieces, smash his dishes on the floor. Spray paint the walls. I must remember: Anna lives here, too. She’s innocent. I love her.
I can’t bear to sleep in his bed, so I lie on the couch, dozing off now and then. I’m up early, aching and stiff. No word from Nathan. What am I even doing here? Maybe I should jump off the cliff, join Lauren in the afterworld. No, I’ll wait, give Nathan a chance to explain. He’d better have a damned good story, an Oscar-worthy performance.
I follow the worn path through the yard to the Eklunds’ garden. The wind blows stronger here, whipping in from the southwest. I start a text to Hedra numerous times, but I don’t hit send. What the hell are you doing with my fiancé, you . . . How dare you? I don’t trust myself to be civil, and why should I be? But still, I don’t want to type words I might later regret.
From the gazebo, a spectacular view of the ocean rolls away to the horizon. I rest my elbows on the railing. The paint flakes off below my fingers, greenish moss growing on the wood. Flashes of Lauren return to me, her unseeing eyes, the bruises, the pallor of her skin. Unnatural.
I look back at the Eklunds’ house, the dark windows revealing no secrets. I descend the gazebo steps, walk through the grass toward the cliff, north of the crime scene tape. My stomach tingles and my legs go weak. At this corner of the yard, the ground gives way and drops precipitously to the beach below. If I were to take one step, I could tumble all the way down without finding a foothold. Lauren fell from the cliff a few yards south of this spot.
Did Hedra push her? If so, why? What is the connection to Nathan? I dial Hedra’s number. Her smooth voice tells me to leave a message. She must see my number popping up on her phone. But I get her voice mail. “I need to know what’s going on between you and Nathan,” I say.
I call her home number, no answer. I’m restless, impatient for answers. I look up Keith’s number at the office. He must be there by now. He gets in early. A woman answers the phone. “Dr. Black’s office. How may I help you?”
I can’t think for the pounding in my head. “Could I speak to Keith? Dr. Black. I’m his . . . I’m engaged to his brother. It’s a personal matter. He’s probably busy or with a patient, so I could leave a message. It’s urgent, sort of.”
“I understand, of course,” she says in a friendly, professional voice, although I surely sound like a lunatic. “But Dr. Black’s away at a conference—”
“He’s away,” I say, stunned. I didn’t expect this, but then it explains how Nathan and Hedra could meet at the hotel.
“He’ll be back in three days. Would you like his voice mail?”
“I suppose you can’t give me his cell phone number or tell me where he is.”
I can feel her hesitation in the beat of silence. “I’m not allowed to give out any personal information or his personal contact—”
“That’s fine. I’m guessing he checks in for his messages. Please tell him I called. And have him call me at his earliest convenience.” I leave her my number and hang up, furious. This is it. I’m out of here. I gather my belongings, everything I own that I can stuff into my weathered suitcase. Toothbrush, toothpaste, lotion, clothes. I stop to peer into Anna’s room, my heart plummeting. How will I explain this to her?
I tuck the key card into my jacket pocket, and just when I’m ready to head out, Nathan comes home. He stands in front of me in his living room, still in his uniform—dark-blue slacks and a light-blue, long-sleeved jacket with white stripes on the arms and patches on the shoulders. His jacket is speckled with blood. I wonder to whom it belongs. His face is pale, his eyes dark and angry. He could be a different person, someone I don’t even know.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“We need to talk,” he says. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“I looked in the window, and I know what I saw.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“This is not about me. This is about you. Lying. Sneaking around.” I lift my left hand, point at the engagement ring. “It’s about this. A promise.”
His shoulders sag. “Whatever you thought you saw—”
“I saw you hugging Hedra. More than that.”
“You shouldn’t have followed me.”
“How about, you shouldn’t have been sneaking around with your brother’s wife.”
“I’m not, we’re not . . . I’m helping her.”
“Helping her. Helping her in bed, or what?”
“No, not that. I can’t—she. I promised her I would maintain her privacy, but it’s no
t an affair. I promise.”
“I don’t care what you promised her,” I say, pacing. “Your promise to me is what matters. What the hell is going on? She won’t answer my calls. I left a message for Keith.”
“You what? Oh no. You shouldn’t have done that!”
“Why the hell not? He doesn’t deserve to know what his wife is doing?”
“You shouldn’t have . . . You could get her into deep trouble.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“You could get yourself into trouble. You shouldn’t be involved.”
“Involved in what, Nathan? Your affair? Are you even serious?”
“It’s not an affair!”
“You’re right, it’s not. You and I . . . We’re not even married yet. I guess it doesn’t qualify.”
“I was going to tell you. I wasn’t trying to lie to you or be dishonest.”
“But you were! You were dishonest.”
“Please, this has nothing to do with our relationship.”
Rage darkens my vision. “It has everything to do with our relationship. You took off in the night—I don’t know how many times—met Hedra at a hotel, and buried your face in her hair. There is no other way to see this except as deception.”
“Not a deception aimed at you.”
“Looked that way to me,” I say.
“It’s complicated. Keith, what does he know? It’s very important that you tell me.”
“What? I can’t even.”
“What does he know? Did he call you back? Did you talk to him?”
“I left a message.”
“Don’t tell him. I’m helping her leave him while he’s away. But he didn’t fly to another state. He’s only in Seattle. He could come back.”
“I hope he does.” I head for the foyer, pull on my boots. Nathan rushes to block my path.
“I’m not helping her to be with me. I’m helping her to escape from him. To escape from an abusive situation.”
“You’re saying he hurt Hedra,” I say, my mind spinning.
“Sit down. I’ll explain.” He takes my arm and leads me back into the living room, sits next to me on the couch.
“You’re helping Hedra leave your own brother. You expect me to believe that?” But his childhood stories climb into my mind—Keith locking him in the shed, holding his head underwater.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He tries to take my hand, but I yank my arm away.
“Even if it’s true, why wouldn’t you tell me? We tell each other everything.” I search his eyes for my answer. If he’s a liar, how would I know?
“Keith is charming. Successful. But underneath all that . . .”
“He seems like an arrogant asshole to me,” I say, shaking my head. “But I thought you said he outgrew his cruelty.”
“I thought he had, but now I know he didn’t. Hedra is in way over her head. I told her about our childhood when they got married so she would have the full story. I was sure he’d changed. Or maybe I . . . hoped.” He pulls out his wallet, shows me a photograph, a staged family shot. Nathan is maybe four, rosy cheeked and cherubic, with his delicate mother holding him on her lap. Her radiant smile belies the vacancy in her eyes. Her tall, handsome husband stands behind her, one hand on her shoulder. Keith, seven or eight years old, stands off to the side.
“You all look happy,” I say. “Except for your mother. She looks tired and a little sad.”
“She is tired and sad. See my dad’s hand on her shoulder? That was about control. He had a subtle way of bullying and belittling her.”
“You’re saying Keith took after him.”
“I think Keith is worse.”
“What am I supposed to believe, Nathan? If you were only helping Hedra, why did you bury your face in her hair? You’re trying to make me doubt myself.”
“No, that’s not my intention at all. I know it seems like I crossed a line.”
“Seems? I would be an idiot to interpret it any other way.”
“That was the closest we ever got, Marissa. She was so down and out, talking about going back to him again. Worrying she’d made a mistake, even though he could kill her.”
“Why doesn’t she leave him? Why does she need your help? If what you’re saying is true?”
“He’s dangerous. He threatened to kill her, and I’m afraid he might be serious. But he would find a way to make it look like an accident.”
“This is unbelievable. You should have told me.”
“I didn’t know until recently. I was about to tell you—”
“Oh, you were?” I whip out the key card and wave it in front of his face. “I found this the morning after the dinner party, so don’t pretend you didn’t know.”
He looks stunned, as if he really has never seen the key card before. “That must be Hedra’s. She told me she left Keith earlier for one night. She had already rented the hotel room. But then she changed her mind and went back to him.”
“Right. What about the receipt I found in your pocket? You paid for a week.”
His face hardens, but he does not accuse me of invading his privacy. He knows better. “I was extending her stay.”
“Why couldn’t she extend it herself?”
“She said she had paid cash, and she didn’t want to withdraw any more, or Keith would become suspicious.”
“So, you put the hotel room on your credit card instead.” I can’t help the animosity in my voice.
“Look, I wasn’t going to keep this a secret forever. But I needed to protect you and protect her—it was a tough call. I was worried and conflicted. Last month, I went out on a domestic violence call. The husband beat the wife. I’ll spare you the details. A neighbor called 911. The minute the bastard saw us coming, he killed his wife. Shot her in the head. Then he fired a few extra shots out the window at random. I felt I needed to keep Hedra’s situation confidential for your safety, for hers.”
Confidential. I step back, his words a blow to the gut. “That poor woman. But Hedra’s situation is different, and I would have kept your secret—”
“How could I put you in that position? Of having to keep the secret?”
“So instead you kept her secret. You prioritized her instead of talking to me.”
His eyes fill with pain. “I know. I see that I’ve hurt you.”
“Hedra could have said something, too.”
“She’s not in her right mind.”
“Clearly not.”
“It didn’t happen overnight,” he says. “She told me it started with small things. She’d left a spot on a dish, hadn’t folded the towels perfectly. I thought, shit, this is our dad, only worse. I overheard my dad yelling at my mom, telling her that she was ugly. He always monitored the amount of food on her plate. Keith is the same way.”
“Why didn’t Hedra walk away? How long have they been married?”
Nathan runs his fingers through his hair. “I was the best man at their wedding six years ago. It might seem like a long time to put up with his abuse, but he plays mind games. Don’t you see? He piled on the charm, took her to Mexico, Hawaii, the Caribbean. She grew up with an addicted mom. They were often evicted. It was a big change, moving from poverty to luxury. The big house, the parties, the way Keith paid attention to her. She loves him. That’s what worries me. She wants to leave, but she wants to go back. The asshole won’t even let her make a phone call without his permission.”
And this is your problem to solve because . . . ? I hate these thoughts, my desire to banish Hedra from the picture. She’s in trouble. Maybe. Maybe not. The truth slips through my fingers. I sit back against the couch cushion, drawing a deep breath. The room feels heavy with secrets. “Something must have pushed her to finally leave. A little crush on his brother, maybe?”
“I had no idea what was going on until she asked me for help a few days ago. That bruised wrist—at dinner, when she said she fell off the stage during a photo shoot. Apparently, that was a lie.”
“Keith did that? Y
ou could be making this up!”
“You have to trust me. Keith has connections. He’s manipulative. A psychopath. He will try to come after her.”
“Those are strong words. You’re full of them. Rianne’s unhinged. Keith is a psycho.”
“A small dose of detachment helps a surgeon keep his cool,” Nathan says, undeterred. “He’s good at cutting people open without any emotion.”
“He saves lives.”
“So, he must care, right? He doesn’t.”
My stomach twists. I get up and go to the window. I need a view of trees, of the changing sky, the things I know are real. “I appreciate you telling me all of this, Nathan. But I need Hedra’s side of this story, and it doesn’t excuse your lies or what you were doing with her. I need to talk to her.”
“Okay, but not right now . . . we need to see this thing through.”
I spin around to face him. “Not right now? Are you fucking kidding me?”
He raises his hands, pushes down on the air. Trying to pacify me, which enrages me even more. “Let her get to a secure location,” he says. “Away from the hotel. He might find her there.”
“How would he find her, Nathan? You’re the one who paid for a secret love nest.” I can’t help spitting bitter words. I can’t stop myself.
“We didn’t sleep together. She needed a place to go where he couldn’t get to her. But now . . .”
“But now what? I didn’t tip him off.”
“He will know something is up.”
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“She could freak out and do something rash.”
“You’re afraid of what she might tell me. That the two of you—”
“After she’s safe. Then talk to her. You don’t understand. He could kill her.”
“Maybe he could, but guess what else is dying, Nathan? Us.”
He slams his fist into the palm of his other hand. “This isn’t right. Damn it.”
“Are you protecting her from something else?” I say, arms crossed over my chest. “Did you know about the scarf? Was she outside last Friday night? Did she push Lauren off that cliff?”
