“It’s an investment in my future,” he says. “Our future. I think of it like a retirement fund or a CD. As long as the price of gold continues to rise, I don’t want to sell it.”
Kathi wants to ask how much it’s worth, but she’s afraid that will give him the wrong impression.
“I don’t need your money,” she says. “I don’t love you because you’re rich.”
“I know,” he says. “But that’s why I didn’t tell you. I’ve been honest about everything else.”
Kathi argues that while Steve has told her some information about his past, he’s been vague about the details. He’s still secretive. He’s still a mystery to her.
“What do you want to know?” he says, his mood darkening. “You want to know what a man looks like when your fingers are wrapped around his throat? You want to know about the moment when you choke the life out of him? It’s not like in the movies, Kathi. You can tell by looking in the eyes when the lights go out inside. One minute the person looking back at you is alive. The next?” He snaps his fingers. “Gone. Dead. You can see it, Kathi—you can see it in the eyes: the moment when life turns to death. Is that the kind of thing you want me to talk about?”
“Jesus Christ—no!” Kathi snaps, her body covered in goose bumps.
“Because that’s who I am,” Steve says. “That’s who I was before I met you. And if you don’t want to be with me, tell me now. I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see me again.”
Tears fill Kathi’s eyes.
“That’s not what I want,” she says, trying to keep from sobbing. “And that’s not who you are. Not now. And I don’t believe that’s all there is to your past. I just want to know more about you. Where you went to high school. Where you grew up.”
“I told you, my house burned down.” Steve says the words defensively, but his tone has softened.
“Then show me where it used to be,” Kathi says. “Show me the neighborhood. Show me something. I don’t even know where you grew up. What city? What state?”
Steve takes a deep breath.
“You want me to show you where I’m from?”
“Yes,” Kathi says. “Please.”
“All right,” Steve says, pointing to the door. “Let’s go.”
“What? Now?”
“Pack an overnight bag. Let’s leave in fifteen minutes.”
Kathi doesn’t quite know what to make of this.
“I’m wide awake,” he says. “I’ll drive all night.”
“Where are we going?”
“California.”
Chapter 10
About forty-five hours later, Steve is at the wheel of Kathi’s Porsche, cruising through the Mojave Desert at seventy miles an hour. The sun is setting to the west, and the orange light gives the desert hills a strange otherworldly glow.
Steve has his sun visor pulled down and is squinting against the bright orange light they’re driving directly toward. When the sun finally disappears, Steve takes a deep breath and says, “Finally.” He flips the visor up and rubs his eyes.
Kathi feels tempted to say that if they’d gotten a move on earlier this morning, they wouldn’t have had to drive directly into the sunset. But she bites her tongue. The farther they’ve driven into California, the worse Steve’s mood has gotten.
When they left home in the middle of the night, Steve was enthusiastic and Kathi was excited for the adventure. Steve drove through the night, just as he said he would, but by the time they made it to Las Vegas late the next morning, he wanted a break.
“I need a nap,” he said.
“I can drive,” Kathi offered, since she’d slept for a couple of hours during the night.
“We still have a long way to go,” he said. “Let’s both get some rest.”
Instead of resting, though, Steve had gone to play blackjack on the Strip. Kathi spent the afternoon at the pool where they were staying, though she’d had to buy a bathing suit at the hotel gift shop. She hadn’t known she’d need one.
Steve returned to the hotel room drunk that evening as she was getting ready for bed. He said they should go elope right there in Las Vegas. He was acting as though he’d forgotten the whole point of their trip, as if maybe this was a vacation in Nevada and nothing more. But Kathi wouldn’t let him forget. And even though she wanted to marry him, the timing didn’t feel right. She’d given him an ultimatum to show her something of his past, and she intended to stick to it.
The next morning, she was ready and raring to go. She bought breakfast and brought it back to the room, hoping for an early start. But Steve said they should enjoy Vegas a little more and insisted they sit by the pool while he slurped cocktails. It was well into the afternoon when Kathi finally put her foot down and said they needed to leave before he had another drink.
He’s been sulking ever since.
But Kathi doesn’t care. If he wants her to marry him, he is going to have to share more about himself. This is his opportunity.
They drive through Bakersfield without talking. The car is pointed north now, on a trajectory up through California’s Central Valley.
Practically the middle of nowhere.
Kathi has no idea where they’re going but knows they must be close because Steve’s mood is darkening. As he takes the exit to a town called Exeter, his fingers are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel, it’s as though he’s trying to strangle it.
It occurs to Kathi that this trip might be very painful for him. His parents are both dead. His childhood home burned down. Who knows what else happened to him in this town? There is probably a good reason he never talks about where he came from.
“Are you okay?” she asks, trying to sound compassionate.
“I’m fine,” he says in a tone that tells her he is anything but. “You wanted to see my past. I’ll show you my past.”
He drives through Exeter without saying a word. The streets are empty, the storefronts dark. There is a water tower, a grocery store, a small cinema with its marquee advertising a horror double feature: The Howling and Friday the 13th Part 2. The town can’t have much more than five thousand residents. It looks like a lot of small towns in Colorado, only with fields of orange trees instead of hills of pine forest.
Kathi doesn’t know where Steve is going, and it doesn’t seem as though he does, either. He cruises around, staring out at the moonlit streets. Suddenly, as if a thought occurred to him, Steve yanks the wheel and turns a corner hard enough that the tires squeal. He zooms down a back road.
And stops at a cemetery.
“You want to know about my past?” he says sarcastically. “I’ll take you to meet my parents.”
Chapter 11
The gate is open and they drive in among the tombstones, which cast long shadows in the ghostly moonlight. An absurd thought pops into Kathi’s head that if Steve wanted to kill her, this would be a perfect place to do it.
She shoves the thought away but still feels sick to her stomach. Steve is obviously angry with her. This isn’t some pleasant trip down memory lane for him.
Without a word, he leaves the car and stomps into the graveyard. She follows but can’t keep up. He clomps through the grass, ducking his head to try to read the names on the gravestones. There is enough moonlight that the words can be deciphered, but only with some effort.
“Goddamnit,” he growls. “Where are they?”
Kathi starts looking, too, desperate to find the name Marcum so that she can relieve some of his anxiety. It’s her fault they are here.
Steve keeps cursing, but his voice cracks and she can tell he is crying.
“Steve, honey, are you okay?”
“I can’t find it,” he sobs. “They took it.”
He collapses to his knees and puts his face in the grass. His body convulses with sobs.
“They took everything!” he wails.
“Who?”
“The CIA,” he says. “They’ve erased my existence.”
Kathi isn’t sure
what he means—did the CIA remove his parents’ grave markers?—but she can see he is suffering. Over the past few months, she’s questioned some of the things Steve has told her. His stories about the CIA and prison seem a little far-fetched. But there is no questioning this: Whatever has come over him, her fiancé is in real pain.
Kathi puts her arms around Steve.
“It’s okay,” she says. “You’re okay.”
He hugs her, still crying. “I don’t want to be here,” he says. “It’s too painful. I don’t want to lose you, but it’s too painful.”
She’s reminded that Steve came here for her. This place is clearly a source of trauma, and yet he’s made the trip to appease her. It’s almost as if he’s walked through fire because she asked him. She can’t help but feel touched by his attempt. She decides in this moment to give up asking Steve about his past. None of that matters.
She knows the real Steve Marcum in her arms.
“I love you,” she whispers to soothe his pain. “Let’s go home. Let’s go make a life together.”
Wiping tears from his face, he says, “You mean it?”
“I’ve never meant anything more.”
Chapter 12
June 6, 1981
Kathi takes a deep breath.
Today is the day.
She and her bridesmaids stand inside a large tent on a warm summer day, waiting for Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” to begin. She feels anxious to get out of the tent. There is a pleasant breeze outside, and inside the tent, the air is stuffy.
She’s hiding here because Steve hasn’t seen her yet—it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, after all.
“You look beautiful,” says Sarah, her maid of honor, a friend from high school she’s stayed in touch with ever since.
Kathi is wearing a white gown with lace overlays covering her arms and a lace skirt that flares at her hips. Her hair is pulled up and a crown of flowers adorns her head. She holds a bouquet of pink peonies. “Thank you,” she says. She’ll be hearing that compliment a lot today.
“Are you ready for this?” Sarah asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Kathi says, and the two giggle.
The music begins, loud and dramatic, as if announcing the entrance of a queen. After the bridesmaids have left, Kathi waits for her cue and steps out into the sunlight. Fifty guests rise from their seats, turn, and look at her.
The breeze is immediately refreshing, and she takes a big, joyful breath before starting forward. Her hands tremble and she grips the flowers tightly to still them. She smiles at all the faces—family, friends, coworkers—and every one of them smiles back at her.
At the end of the aisle, standing next to the minister underneath the flower-covered wedding arch, Steve gives her his big signature grin. Their wedding is happening in a meadow filled with wildflowers, with the Rocky Mountains standing as the picturesque backdrop.
She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.
When she arrives at the altar, Steve raises his eyebrows comically, as if to say, We’re really doing this, aren’t we?
Yes, we are, Kathi thinks, and there isn’t a doubt in her mind that this is what she wants.
Steve is wearing an all-white tuxedo, matching her dress. The only color on it is the pink peony pinned to his breast pocket, matching her bouquet.
He’s not traditionally handsome—it’s not as if he turns the head of every woman who walks by—but she finds him attractive. He’s combed over his sandy blond hair to cover where it’s thinning. He can just let the hair go, as far as she’s concerned. His smile and his eyes and the way he looks at the world are what caught her attention from the start, and she can’t believe that she gets to join him on an adventure through life.
He’s kind and treats her well, but he’s also spontaneous—and to be honest, she knows his impulsiveness is what she really loves about him.
She knows that a life with Steve Marcum will not be boring.
The officiant begins going through his script, but Kathi is too consumed with love and happiness to even follow the words. She hardly pays attention until it’s time for her to say her vows. Kathi blinks back tears of happiness as she stares up at Steve, who is crying and looking at her the way no man ever has.
“Please repeat after me,” the minister says. “I, Kathi…”
She repeats what the minister says.
“…take thee, Steve, to be my wedded husband…to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health…”
Kathi means it with all her heart when she says aloud for all her friends and family to hear, “Till death do us part.”
Part 2
Chapter 13
Glenwood Springs, Colorado
Spring 1993
It’s been so great chatting,” says Sarah, “but I’ve got to run. These kids won’t feed themselves.”
Kathi laughs into the cordless telephone. She takes a sip of her tea and sets it on the coffee table. The night is cold—there’s still some snow on the ground outside—but a fire burns in the fireplace. The TV is muted while an episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos plays.
She and Steve share a ranch-style cabin, with an expansive living space and vaulted ceiling spanned by large oak beams. The rustic mountain decor includes old wooden skis and cane fishing poles as decorations, along with paintings of elk and bear. A deer mount hangs on one wall, the rifle that Steve used to shoot it displayed underneath.
“Let’s not wait so long to catch up again,” Kathi says.
She’s spent the past hour talking to her old friend, who got married a year after Kathi and Steve and has lived in Denver, raising her family, ever since. They live only about two and a half hours away, but it’s been years since Kathi has seen her friend. Sarah and her husband have two children—a ten-year-old girl and a six-year-old boy—and are living what Steve would probably call a “stupid boring suburban life.”
Kathi and Steve have done the opposite. Over the past decade, they’ve moved all around Colorado, spent a year in Mexico, and even lived for a spell in Southern California while working at Disneyland. She expected life with Steve to be anything but normal, and her predictions proved accurate. But in the past few years, things have settled down a bit, and if she’s honest, she prefers life this way.
The gold bars Steve used to keep in the toilet wherever they lived have long since disappeared; assuming Steve is telling the truth, he traded them in for a little extra money here and there as they’ve needed it.
They traded in the Porsche for more practical automobiles better suited to life in Colorado.
Now that they’ve settled here in Glenwood Springs, Kathi expects most of their transient adventuring days to be over. With its hot springs, ski resorts, and endless hiking trails, Glenwood Springs is everything Kathi needs right now, and she can see herself growing old here with the man she loves.
She owns a salon, just as she always dreamed, and they’ve bought a house. She’s been the breadwinner for years now. It was her savings, not his, that allowed her to buy the salon. But Steve has a steady job managing one of the local steam baths the town is known for. Although he had no real qualifications for the job, when he left for his interview, he said, “Don’t worry, Kathi, I could sell ice to Eskimos. This job is mine.”
But Kathi won’t be surprised if Steve comes home someday soon with another harebrained scheme to pick up and move on to the next adventure. Talking to Sarah, Kathi actually found herself feeling jealous of her friend’s “stupid boring suburban life.”
She’s also feeling very nostalgic after reminiscing with Sarah about their high school days: funny things that happened in class, practical jokes they used to play, boys they used to date. After she hangs up with Sarah, she rises from the couch and heads into the spare bedroom, where she opens the closet and roots around among the boxes inside. At last, she pulls open a dusty cardboard box and finds exactly what she’s searching for: her high school yearbook.
With a smile on her face, she heads back to the living room. After refilling her cup of tea and throwing another log on the fire, she sits on the couch and flips through the volume, laughing to herself as she sees the youthful faces of all her peers.
She stops at her own senior portrait and can’t believe how young she looked. Has it really been twenty-five years since she graduated from high school? She feels a pang of sadness. Life feels as though it’s slipping away, and what has she done with her time? Sure, she’s had fun with Steve. But their life together also seems to lack the kind of security her friend Sarah has enjoyed. Kathi tells herself she’s just feeling emotional from the phone call.
She hears the garage door rising and a minute later Steve walks in the door, pulling off his coat and tossing his keys on the counter.
“What’s up?” he says.
“Just going down memory lane,” she says.
He joins her on the couch and his eyes widen when he sees her high school picture.
“Wow,” he says, giving her the bright smile she fell in love with all those years ago.
“I know,” she says. “Look how pretty I used to be.”
“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he says, kissing her cheek. “You haven’t aged at all since I met you.”
She makes a pfft sound with her lips, but she’s touched.
And she could say the same about Steve. He’s put on a few pounds and lost more of the hair on his scalp, but he still has the same boyish face he had twelve years ago. The same ornery-schoolboy smile.
Nothing ever seems to stress him out.
That must be his secret.
Kathi flips through the yearbook and shows him other pictures of herself: posing as a cheerleader, with friends by a line of lockers, standing with the student council. She tells him that she only became student council secretary because she had a crush on the class president.
“You know,” Steve says, “I was student body president.”
“You were?” Kathi says, surprised. “At Exeter?”
Till Murder Do Us Part Page 4
