Wolfe, She Cried

by Addison, Bliss

  “Good luck.” He grinned and turned his attention back to his lovely bride.

  As though sensing his eyes on her, Evie turned and looked at him, smiling widely. She excused herself from the group, lifted her dress, ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am so happy.” She looked up at him. “I love you, Simon.”

  “As I love you.” He hugged her fiercely and felt the familiar want for her. “Do you think anyone will miss us if we skip the reception?”

  She laughed and stepped back. “I think they’ll miss the bride and groom.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “I noticed a closet near the front door. What do you say?”

  She slapped his chest playfully. “All good things come to those who wait.”

  “Speaking of good things.” He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket.

  “What do you have there?”

  “Six days and five nights at the Grotto Bay Beach Resort in Bermuda. A wedding gift from my parents.”

  “Bermuda?” She clasped his hands and stepped in place, then promptly stopped. “But you said you couldn’t leave.”

  “Pa arranged for my predecessor, Gruber, to resume his old post for the week.”

  “So we can go?”

  He smiled and hugged her. “So we can go.” He would make sure all of her wants and desires come true.

  She placed a finger against her lips. “What about Bear? She can’t be left alone.”

  “Mom said she’d look after the skunk.”

  Like a child, she hopped in place. “It’s going to be so much fun. Did you know Bermuda has pink sand and the best beaches? I can’t wait. When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow at two. We’ll fly out of Concord.” She peered around the hall and found Dan and Keertana looking at them. Placing a hand against her heart, she mouthed a thank you.

  Simon pulled another envelope from his back pocket.

  She turned at the sound of paper crinkling. “What’s that?”

  “The deed to the cottage in both our names. A wedding gift from your parents.”

  “Omigod.” She placed a hand against her heart again, speechless. Her eyes teared up.

  “I know. I felt the same way. That’s quite a gift.”

  “We are so fortunate, aren’t we?”

  “Truly blessed. Nothing can make this day any more perfect.”

  She grasped his hands and pressed them against her tummy. “Feel anything?” It took a moment for that to register.

  When it did, he swooped her into his arms. “Are you sure?”

  “I haven’t been to my doctor yet, but your mother … and I quote, feels it is so.”

  He kissed her full on the lips. “And my mother is never wrong.”

  “Except for that time …” She stared into his eyes and grinned.

  “How could I ever have thought you would kill anyone?”

  “Shh. Think of it as a story we’ll tell our grandchildren.”

  He took her hands in his, no longer feeling shameful for drawing the wrong conclusion. He trusted Evie as much as he loved her and that was saying a lot.

  “Listen up everyone.” Dan clapped his hands. “If the bride and groom can tear themselves apart, it’s time to chow down.”

  ***

  In the baggage area of the Bermuda International Airport, a tall man with skin as dark as night held up a sign that read: Mr. & Mrs. Simon Wolfe.

  “That’s us,” Simon said, tugging Evie along with him.

  “Your parents thought of everything.” It took two of her steps to match his one.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe?” the man asked.

  Simon would always love the ring of that. “We are.” He raised their interlocked fingers in the air and smiled.

  “I am Francois, your driver. Follow me, please, and I will take you to your hotel.”

  The drive in the air-conditioned taxi to the resort on Blue Hole Hill in Hamilton Parish was surprisingly short, due much to Francois’ commentary about the Island. “Not really one island, but one hundred and eighty islands linked by bridges and divided into nine parishes.”

  “We didn’t know,” Simon said.

  “Friendliest people in the world live on these islands.”

  “We’ll fit right in, then.”

  Evie smiled at Simon. “Did you know rainfall generates the only supply of fresh water to the Islands?”

  “That’s interesting.” Simon kissed the end of Evie’s nose.

  Francois rambled on about the picturesque landscape, like none other on earth.

  Simon and Evie stared out at the aquamarine water and the lush foliage rushing past them and murmured their agreement.

  “We have spectacular beaches and unique wildlife. Three hundred and fifty types of birds and six hundred and fifty species of fish, to be exact. Be sure to check out our whistling tree frogs.”

  “We’ll be sure to.” Simon looked at Evie. “Should be interesting.”

  Francois came to a stop in front of their resort, a three story pastel-colored lodge, hopped out and took their bags from the trunk.

  Simon reached for his wallet.

  Francois put up a hand and shook his head. “No, sir. I cannot accept. It has already been taken care of. I am at your service for the entire week.”

  His father thought of everything. Simon took Francois’ card. “I can take it from here. Thank you, Francois.”

  “Very good, sir. Be mindful of poison ivy and stinging nettles.”

  “We will. Thank you.” He grabbed the bags and followed Evie into the resort.

  Moments later, amid the sound of water lapping to shore and birds chirping cheery notes from the bushes and red-hot cattails, they strode along the hibiscus, oleander and bougainvillea-lined walkway at the water’s edge to their suite.

  “Francois wasn’t exaggerating about the vegetation. It’s beautiful,” Evie said, hugging Simon tightly.

  “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

  They stumbled into their suite, kissing and tugging at their clothes.

  “I might never want to leave,” Evie said against his lips.

  “Me, either.” He unbuckled his Chinos.

  She looked up at him. “Where’s the bed?”

  “Two steps at your back. Twelve o’clock.”

  Relying completely on his word, she walked backward and let herself fall.

  “Be careful. The baby.”

  “The baby is perfectly safe. Trust me.”

  “I do. With my life. With our baby’s life.”

  Simon raised himself on an elbow and watched her sleep. His beautiful Evie and his forever. Whether it was his imagination at work or not, he didn’t know, but making love with Evie seemed sweeter now that she was his wife. He still had difficulty believing they were actually married. No one had come between them this time, which was surprising. Maybe Felicia finally accepted the inevitable, though it didn’t seem plausible, not with how she felt about him and more particularly so after he considered her a murder suspect. Maybe Harrison finally found the chutzpah to stand up to his wife. Something he should have done a long time ago. Theirs was a strange marriage. They made it appear they were happy, but Simon knew differently. He would make sure he and Evie would never grow apart.

  Evie stirred. She opened her eyes, stretched and yawned. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Not long. Still tired?”

  She shook her head. “Not anymore.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “I’m famished, though.”

  He picked up the phone to call room service. “Your wish is my command.”

  After Simon placed their orders for an á la carte dinner of prime rib, she said, “This is a nice room. I didn’t notice before.” She giggled and looked around at the crown molding, white tile floor, straw-mat area rugs, tropical wood furniture, two-chair dining set, then through the windowpanes of the garden doors and the spectacular view of the Atlantic Ocean. She lifted her head and peeked into the bathroom. “Marble. Nice.”

&
nbsp; Bermuda, they learned, was a sightseer’s paradise with their military ports, magnificent old churches, historic houses, underground caves and limestone stalagtites. The beaches alone would have contented them their entire stay. Nevertheless, during the day, Simon and Evie toured the subtropical oasis, sun-bathed on the pink-hued sandy beaches, explored, body surfed, swam, snorkled and kayaked. They stopped at café’s where Simon sampled tropical drinks and Evie drank pineapple juice from coconut shells. Every evening, they dined at the Hibiscus Room with its white wood ceiling beams, slate floor, and white table linens. Later, they either enjoyed a musical performance by the Bermuda Philharmonic or simply strolled hand in hand along the beach in front of their resort, a gentle sea breeze at their backs. Then they’d return to their room where they made love and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  Simon had never experienced such happiness. He hugged Evie to him. “I never want this to end.”

  She sighed. “I feel the same way. I hate the thought of leaving tomorrow. Promise me we’ll come back one day.”

  “I promise.”

  She rested her head against his chest and fell asleep.

  A moment later, wearing only a smile, Simon closed his eyes and let sleep embrace him.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Simon awoke to the sound of a man shouting. He reached for Evie, but his hand landed on the mattress. “Evie?” His eyelids heavy from sleep, he forced his eyes to focus and scanned the room through the light filtering in through the sheer curtains on the garden doors. “Evie?”

  He hopped out of bed and tugged on his boxers and leisure shorts. He walked through the open doorway and followed the direction of the man’s voice, screaming in agony or fear, Simon couldn’t be sure. Cautiously, he approached, the sand a soft surface to muffle his footsteps.

  “No, please, dear God, no!” a man cried.

  “God isn’t going to help you,” a female voice, one unfamiliar to him, said.

  Simon peeked out from behind a Candlenut tree. In the dim whitish light of the moon, he saw a woman holding a knife in her hand sitting astride a man wearing Speedos and a Hawaiian shirt.

  “I’m not married. I only wear a wedding band because it’s a chick magnet. Women are freer with sex if they think I’m married. No commitments. It’s the God’s truth, I swear.”

  “You lying motherfucker! You’re all alike.” She raised the knife into the air.

  Simon came up behind her. “Put the knife down.”

  The woman looked over her shoulder, and he got the first glimpse of her face. Everything about the woman told him it was Evie, but the cold look in her eyes and the hard set of her lips told him it was not. His heart sank to his knees. His feet felt like they had rooted into the ground.

  “Evie?” he whispered, still unsure. The sound of his voice rang foreign to his ears, like someone else had said her name. The world came out of focus before his eyes. He fought for equilibrium.

  “Oh, thank God,” the man said. “Get this lunatic off me!”

  Evie turned and jabbed the point of the knife against his throat. “Shut the fuck up!”

  In one deft move, Simon grabbed her arm and twisted it backward, and as much as it hurt him to do so, he squeezed hard on her wrist until she dropped the weapon.

  Hawaiian shirt stood and sprinted behind Simon. “That bitch was going to kill me.”

  Simon held Evie by the upper arm. “Get lost, mister.”

  “I should have her arrested. She tried to kill me. Whack job.”

  Evie took a swing at him, but Simon prevented her from connecting. “Who you calling a whack job, you sorry piece of shit!”

  “I’m calling the police.” Hawaiian shirt made a move to leave.

  “It’ll be your word against hers, and I didn’t see anything but a tryst going bad. Who do you think the police will believe?” Simon watched the man leave.

  With a string of expletives not unforeign to his ears but certainly foreign coming from Evie’s lips, she clawed at him and tried to escape the hold he had on her. Having no choice, he strengthened his grip and held her in place at his side. Pain, as intense as a physical blow, stabbed his heart for the bruises he inflicted on her skin. “Evie, please,” he whispered.

  She snarled. “My name is Staci.”

  He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he thought it best to humor her. His cop teachings took over: Make eye contact. Establish rapport. No sudden moves. Keep voice soft, calm. “Okay, Staci. Let’s go back to the resort.”

  “Why did you stop me? He deserved to die just like the others.”

  “You killed Miller, Coulton and Teed?”

  “Of course, I did. Your precious Evie didn’t have the guts. The wimp. She always leaves the hard stuff to me.”

  As sudden as a headache came on, he understood. “You’re her alter ego.” In fast motion, his mind replayed the past few months. Everything made sense now.

  “And I’m here to stay. Evie is gone for good this time.”

  Simon remembered feeling like this before, the feeling that the life was sucked out of him, leaving only an empty shell. Please, God, don’t let her be lost to him forever. No, he wouldn’t believe that. She loved him too much to leave him. She was strong. She had the will to regain her identity.

  “Evie,” he said softly. “I love you. Remember how much you love me.” He took a chance and released her arm, but readied himself to intercept her should she decide to leave. “We love each other. We made a baby together. Little Cooper, or Amelia.” Something flickered in her eyes. “Come back to me, please, Evie.”

  “Simon?” Evie sank to her knees in the sand before he could catch her. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward their suite.

  “What happened, Simon? I feel so weak.” Tears fell from her eyes, a wail escaped her lips. She stared up at him. “Simon, what happened to me? Why was I outside?” She looked at herself dressed in a tank top and bikini panties. “Oh my God.” She shivered against him. He sat her on the bed and knelt on one knee on the floor before her.

  “Evie, what’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Falling asleep in your arms. How did I end up on the beach, Simon? Was I sleepwalking?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart.” He took her hand in his. What little he knew about multiple personality disorder, he thought it prudent not to tell her.

  “Did I have a breakdown or something? But I’m so happy. You make me so happy. Why would I have an episode now? I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I, honey, but just to be on the safe side we should get back to the island asap and get in touch with your psychiatrist.” He looked into her eyes. “Are you okay with that?”

  She nodded. “Of course. If there’s something the matter with me, I need to get help. For you, for our baby.” She sobbed into her hands. “Simon, I’m so scared.”

  For the second time in his life, Simon felt helpless. He sat beside her and took her in his arms. “Don’t be scared. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise.” Already his mind worked to find a way to prevent Evie from spending one night in jail. Clearly, she needed to be hospitalized. There was no avoiding it and the only way to ensure Staci wouldn’t commit more murders. Maybe he could arrange something else. A lot depended on her psychiatrist. He wondered if Gaston suspected Evie had an alter ego. Maybe that was the reason he wanted her to continue therapy. All the better if he did. No court would find Evie guilty when they proved disassociative identity disorder. Some would say he took the law into his own hands. Staci Gardner, not Evie Madison, confessed to killing those men. Once she integrated with Evie, Staci would no longer exist. True, she would become a part of Evie, but not a separate entity. He would do the same for anyone in these circumstances, he told himself. Saving the taxpayers a costly trial had nothing to do with his intentions or decision. Evie had a long, arduous journey to recovery ahead of her. No woman had touched him or had the e
ffect on him the way she had. He loved her with all he was and would be by her side for each step.

  He eyed their luggage, sitting on the floor neatly packed ready for their early morning flight and sighed with relief. He rocked his wife of five days until her tears were all cried and she fell asleep, then he made calls—the first to Gaston, the second to Harrison and Felicia and the third to Dan and Keertana. They were the toughest telephone calls he ever had to make.

  The quiet of the night and the moonlight drew his focus onto himself, bringing a peace that brandished his fears. He let himself drift.

  Epilogue

  “Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird don’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring,” Simon sang, rocking his daughter in the old fashioned wooden rocking chair while staring at his son in the crib beside him. Twins. Double joy. Who would have expected? Not him or Evie. He couldn’t stop looking at them. Amelia, with his black hair and long legs and warm-toned skin thumped her feet and gurgled as though to say: Sing, Daddy, sing. Cooper, with Evie’s curly blond hair and rosy complexion shoved his two middle fingers in his mouth and chomped down.

  “Hungry, are you? Well, it just so happens I have a bottle heated.” He nodded. “And guess what. Your mama’s coming home today.” He cocked his head. “What’s that? You want to do the happy dance?”

  How had they gotten so fortunate? Everything had fallen into place.

  He placed Amelia in her crib, picked up her brother and fed him. He experienced a moment of sadness for Evie missing almost all of the first six months of their twins’ lives. He brought them often to Concord for visits, but it didn’t make up for their time apart. He videotaped them daily and took pictures to document their progress.

  When Gaston had told him it might take three to five years for Evie to recover, his spirits plummeted to an all time low until he realized she would be cured. He would gladly wait a lifetime for her if it came to that.

  Much to Gaston’s surprise, Evie recovered in record time. Granted, he was highly competent, but Simon suspected it had more to do with Evie’s determination and will to get well. She was the perfect patient, Gaston often said. Simon could believe it. She had the proper motivation. Their twins, him, and of course, her skunk.