What Lies Beneath: Romantic Suspense

by Moore, Lila

  “What about him?”

  A memory flashed through my mind. The same doctor that treated my leg had examined the cut on my arm. I was alone with him in the exam room. He made Tom wait outside. Tom didn’t want to leave me alone- not because he was concerned, but because he didn’t trust me.

  “I was supposed to keep the secret…”

  “What secret?” Theo asked.

  The memory was hazy. It came back to me in pieces. Tom and I were in the kitchen arguing. Suddenly, there was a knife in his hand. I remember the flash of the blade as it caught the light. Tom wielded it like a sword, slashing at me with it.

  I put my hands up to protect my face. The knife cut across my arm and elbow. I fell to the floor in shock. Then Tom was tying a tourniquet around my arm and saying: “We have to get our story straight.”

  “It was Tom all along,” I said.

  Theo waited patiently for me to finish.

  “He attacked me. He gave me this scar.” I lifted up my sleeve and showed it to Theo. “Afterwards, he said it was all my fault, that he hadn’t meant to cut me, but I’d run at him while he was holding the knife.”

  Tears clouded my eyes.

  “Saint Tom was anything but,” I said, trying to make a joke, but I sounded pathetic.

  Maddie had been right about him being less than saintly. Did she know that he’d attacked me before? Were people in town gossiping about it? The thought made my skin crawl.

  Theo wrapped his arms around me and laid down beside me. I rested my head on his chest. Our bodies curled around each other naturally as if we’d done this a thousand times. He ran his hands up and down my back slowly.

  “Was it all fake?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “You were paid to get close to me. And now-”

  “Sabine, my feelings for you were never fake. I wouldn’t use you like that. You’ve been through a lot, more than any one person should be asked to bear. When we first met, I knew what I’d been led to believe about you was false. When I was a detective, I handled a lot of homicides. After a while you start to see the patterns. The type of women who kill their husbands have a lot in common. They want money, or freedom, or-”

  “Or they want to protect themselves.”

  “Yes. Some of them are in abusive relationships. They think killing their husbands is the only way to protect themselves or their children, and some of them are right. It’s self-defense and I would never blame them for doing what they have to do to protect themselves or their kids.”

  “You knew all along, didn’t you? You knew that Tom was abusing me. And you still helped me cover up what I did to Mr. Devereaux.”

  “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Tom had a criminal history.”

  I looked up at Theo sharply. Tom had been arrested once early in our relationship. He got into a fist fight with an art dealer who screwed him out of money. But other than that, he’d never been arrested- as far as I knew.

  “No… when?”

  “It was when he was in college. He beat up his ex-girlfriend. She had a restraining order against him for stalking.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “I had no idea.”

  “No. It’s not usually the kind of thing creeps like to advertise.”

  “How could I have been so blind?”

  “It’s not your fault. Men like Tom know how to lie and manipulate women to get exactly what they want. These guys are predators.”

  “How can you think I’m innocent? Half the time I don’t know what to believe about myself.”

  “I think he was having an affair with Mrs. Devereaux. He went to meet her that night on the bridge. They fought and she killed him. She then manipulated her husband into helping her cover it up. It’s like he said, they would’ve lost everything if the truth had been exposed.”

  “Jillian said she saw him under the bridge early the next morning.”

  Theo nodded. “It wasn’t made public, but the police found a woman’s purple scarf on the shore of the river. It was downstream from the bridge. Apparently the wind carried it further than Mr. Devereaux realized.”

  “You think he was there looking for it? Was Mrs. Devereaux worried about the scarf being linked to her?”

  “She was. And in fact the scarf was linked to her. It came from her boutique. When detectives questioned her about it, she claimed to have never seen it before. When it was pointed out that it had a label from her store, she admitted they sold similar scarves, but she had no idea who’d purchased it. The detectives accepted her answer and never followed up.”

  “They just let it go? How could they just ignore it? It was a direct link to Mrs. Devereaux?”

  “Well, they weren’t sure the scarf was even related to your husband’s death. A lot of people picnic along the river. It could have been lost by any one of them. If the case ever went to trial, I’m sure her defense attorney would make that exact argument.”

  “But they didn’t interrogate her?”

  “No. They had no reason to. They didn’t know about her affair with your husband.”

  I buried my face in Theo’s chest and sighed.

  “I know it’s frustrating,” he said.

  “I’m so stupid. I thought I knew Tom better than anyone. I didn’t know the first thing about him. It wasn’t until this morning that I remembered when he attacked me with the knife. How could I forget something like that?”

  “You were traumatized. Believe it or not, it’s not uncommon for people to suffer from memory loss after trauma. It’s your minds way of protecting you from reality.”

  “Even on this scale? I’ve forgotten so much.”

  “When someone dies, people tend to have selective memories. They forget all the bad things about the person and focus on the good. It’s easier than accepting the truth.”

  “What is the truth?”

  “That humans are complicated. Most of us are shades of gray. I’m sure there were things about Tom that were good.”

  There was an edge to Theo’s voice as if it annoyed him to admit that Tom could be good to me.

  “But your relationship was abusive and unhealthy,” he continued. “It was toxic. You needed to get away.”

  “You make it sound as if you’re happy he’s dead.”

  “Maybe I am. A guy who attacks his wife with a knife then tries to convince her it’s all her fault, is not exactly the kind of guy I’m going to cry for at his funeral.”

  I swallowed hard. How much more of Tom’s behavior had I forgotten? What if the knife was just the tip of the iceberg? Maybe Theo was right and I was lucky to be rid of him. I’ve spent so much time praying for a second chance. There were times when I would have gladly given anything to have Tom back, but that was before reality started to sink in.

  I couldn’t think about it anymore. It was too much. Theo felt warm beneath me. I wanted to explore his body and forget all about the last twenty-four hours. I inched in closer, pressing my body against his. I wrapped my good leg around him, then kissed his neck. Theo kissed my forehead and wrapped an arm around me tightly.

  “You should get some rest,” he said.

  “I don’t want to rest. I want to forget.”

  I slid my hand inside his pants and started to stroke his cock.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, sounding strained, “are you sure?”

  I bit his earlobe and stroked his cock faster. It was the only answer he needed. He rolled over on top of me. Our mouths met with greedy hunger. I wanted to consume him, to use the good in him to replace the bad in me.

  I bit his lower lip and pulled. Theo groaned. It was a deep sound that echoed through my bones.

  He pulled at my underwear, sliding them off. His mouth left a trail of kisses down my neck and across my chest. I arched my back and closed my eyes as Theo positioned himself between my legs.

  I spread them wide for him.

  I wanted him inside me so badly that my whole body pulsed with need. Heat radiated betwee
n my legs and up and down my spine. It was maddening. I wrapped my leg around his waist and dug my nails into his meaty shoulders.

  Suddenly, he was inside me. Waves of heat played across my skin. It felt as if an electric current was passing over and through me.

  I relaxed and let Theo take over. He lifted my hips and drove his cock deep. His thrusts came fast and hard, penetrating more than just my body. I gave myself over to him completely. Sink or swim, we were in this together now.

  His hand found mine; our fingers twisted together. Theo stared into my eyes as he drove his cock into me again and again. I never wanted this feeling to end. The longer he was inside me, the more distance we put between our problems. An insane part of me thought that if Theo and I stayed together long enough, we’d emerge to find our problems gone. But it wasn’t meant to be.

  Theo came inside me with a final, punishing thrust then fell to my side. Tremors echoed through my body. My fear and anxiety had diminished, but I could still feel them lurking beneath the surface. I took a deep breath and ran my fingers through my hair, twisting my curls into knots.

  “What’s wrong?” Theo asked.

  “How am I supposed to live with what I’ve done?”

  “By understanding that you did what you had to. You’re a survivor.”

  “You sound like Jillian.”

  “You should listen to her. She knows what it’s like to be in your shoes.”

  “I wish I knew where she was.”

  I watched shadows dance across the ceiling. The gloomy overcast weather gave my bedroom a strange blue glow. The sky outside had been churning with clouds heavy with rain.

  “When do you think Mr. Devereaux will be reported missing?” I asked.

  There was a pause before Theo answered.

  “I don’t know. I think it’ll be a few days, though.”

  As if on cue, Theo’s cell phone rang.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  He jumped out of bed and walked into the kitchen to take his call. I looked out the window. The guesthouse door was still open. I could see all the torn canvases I’d left behind. Had Theo noticed them? I hoped not. Maybe it wasn’t too late to clean up before he saw them. I knew I wouldn’t be getting any sleep for a while anyway, so I pushed myself out of bed and grabbed my crutches.

  I limped into the living room to discover Theo was gone. The front door was open a crack and I could hear his voice coming from the front porch, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  I grabbed a trash bag and headed out into the back. I picked up what remained of the torn paintings and threw them into the trash bag, piece by piece. I reached down to grab a psychedelic green and blue piece of canvas when something caught my eyes. I held it up to the light and turned it over in my hands.

  “You’ve got to learn to stop sneaking off like this,” Theo said from the backdoor.

  “Sorry. I just wanted to clean up some of this mess.”

  “Did you find something?”

  “What does this look like to you?”

  I handed the torn painting to Theo.

  “It looks like a baby lying in grass… or maybe water?”

  “What else do you see?”

  He turned the piece around and looked closely.

  “The background is strange, dreamlike. The baby is swaddled in a white blanket.”

  “What else?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “The baby’s blonde.”

  Theo looker closer. “Yeah. And it has something in its hair.”

  “A bow.”

  “Yeah, I see it now. What about it?”

  “When Aiden was born, he had dark curly hair- still does. And I never put bows in his hair.”

  “What are you saying? That this isn’t Aiden?”

  “Right. I’ve never seen this painting before. Tom always shared his work with me when it was finished.” I thought of the painting featuring Mrs. Devereaux’s face. “Usually, he showed me, anyway. So whose baby is this?”

  “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Your husband was an artist. This is probably just a metaphor for something. It’s probably not meant to be taken literally.”

  I shook my head. “Tom always included the faces of people he knew in his work. When Aiden was born he had a series of works that included his face hidden in the paintings. It was sort of like an inside joke with him. I’m sure this baby was more than just symbolic.”

  “So who is it?”

  My mind raced with the possibilities. Then suddenly it hit me. I knew who the baby was.

  “Oh, shit…”

  “What?”

  “It can’t be… No, I’m sure of it,” I said talking to myself.

  I should have seen it. She had Tom’s eyes, his coloring. She was outgoing and loud in the same way Tom was and she adored Aiden. Bella was Tom’s daughter.

  “It’s Bella,” I whispered.

  Theo looked away as if he was trying to piece it all together.

  “That means the affair was going on for much longer than you suspected,” Theo said.

  I swallowed hard. I had no idea who my late husband really was. I lived with a man who hid a secret life for years, and the worst part was that I was totally oblivious. I’d spent the last two years mourning the death of a man who never existed.

  I started to laugh. It was a hysterical reaction, the result of sadness, anger and relief. I was desperate to find a reason to let Tom go. Well, I’d found one. This was not what I wanted, but I couldn’t help feeling as if the weight on my shoulders had been greatly reduced.

  “Do you think it would make a difference to the investigation?” I asked. “If the police learned that Mrs. Devereaux and Tom were alone on that bridge together, and that they had a child, would they look at her more closely?”

  Theo thought for a moment then shook his head. “They will question Mrs. Devereaux, but I’m sure she’ll deny any involvement. If anything, you’re just handing the detectives a motive on a silver platter. They already suspect you and once cops become sure of a suspect it’s hard for them to let it go. They’ll think you killed him in a jealous rage.”

  “I can’t win, can I?”

  “Winning is surviving. We’re going to make it through this.”

  Theo wrapped an arm around me and ran his hand up and down my back. I rested my head on his chest and looked at the image of Bella. The eyes were unmistakably Tom’s. I let the canvas fall from my hand.

  “Let’s get this cleaned up,” Theo said.

  I nodded absently. Theo and I picked up the pieces of my husband’s life’s work and threw them in the garbage.

  25

  I nervously waited for Aiden to return home. In spite of Theo’s assurances, it felt wrong to leave him at the Deverauxes’. I didn’t like him sleeping in the lion’s den. Mrs. Devereaux could show up at any minute. If she was already suspicious of me, then what would stop her from taking out her anger on Aiden? No. It was a bad idea for him to stay there.

  I managed to convince Theo of the same. Learning that Bella was Tom’s child had left him rattled. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he was as eager as I was to get Aiden out of the Devereauxes’ house.

  When his calls to their home went unanswered, he calmly told me he was going to drive over and pick Aiden up. I detected concern beneath his cool exterior.

  “I’ll go with you,” I said.

  He considered me for a moment, then said no. “I don’t want a confrontation between the two of you. You need to stay away from each other. I’ll pick up Aiden and be back in a few minutes. Just stay here. Don’t go outside. And try to stay awake. I don’t want you sleepwalking while I’m gone.”

  “Okay. Call me if there’s a problem.”

  “Lock the door behind me.”

  After a quick kiss, Theo was gone. I did as he said, locking the door and pouring a cup of coffee. I didn’t want to fall asleep and wander off. The idea frightened me. Who knew wh
at I would hallucinate or where I would end up?

  I poured a ton of sugar into my coffee and drank it down quickly. The heat filled my stomach warmly. The rush of caffeine made me a bit jittery. I watched the clock. The more time passed, the more useless I felt. I needed to do something, anything. I started to clean the house to distract myself, but the longer Theo was gone, the more worried I became.

  Where was he? It only took about ten minutes to drive to the Devereauxes’ place. Twenty minutes had passed since he left. There was no reason to worry yet. By the time Theo wrangled Aiden and collected all his things it could be another twenty or thirty minutes before they left. Plus, I knew Aiden would be angry about having his play date with Bella cut short. I’m sure he would try to talk Theo into letting him stay longer.

  His sister, I thought suddenly. Bella was his sister. Did they know? Was there some connection between them that only a sibling could recognize? It seemed unlikely. Still, they shared a connection whether they realized it or not.

  I was checking my watch for the hundredth time when there was a knock at the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. They were home. I moved as quickly as I could, throwing open the door without looking through the peephole first.

  Mrs. Devereaux stood before me. Her hand rested on Aiden’s shoulder. The sight of her caught me off balance. I hadn’t anticipated seeing her show up at my door with my son. I looked past her expecting to see Theo. He was nowhere in sight.

  “Say hello to your mother,” Mrs. Devereaux said.

  When Aiden didn’t respond, she squeezed his shoulder. I watched her nails dig into him. Aiden winced. I took a step forward.

  “No,” she said to me, as if commanding a dog to stay still. It was then I noticed she had her hand in her pocket. She pulled it out slowly, revealing that her finger was on the trigger of a gun. “The three of us are going to take a walk.”

  “Leave Aiden here. You don’t need him. You and I can settle things ourselves.”

  “No. I think he should come to. He helps keep his mommy in line. Don’t you agree, Aiden?”

  He didn’t respond. He looked up at Mrs. Devereaux then at me. It was clear he understood something was very wrong, but I don’t think he had the slightest clue how bad things were. I smiled thinly to try and reassure him it would all be okay. I’m not sure it worked.