by E. C. Diskin
She stared at the mirror, examining her reflection. It wasn’t pretty. “Get yourself together,” she said. Her focus shifted to her shoulder, to a beautiful old claw-foot tub behind her, a pristine antique on display atop the black-and-white mosaic tile. She remembered her last bath. With Ryan. The bubbles and candles, the wine. There was still something really good between them. Still, after all these years, and everything that had gone wrong. She didn’t care what Evelyn had said in the car about Dee. It wasn’t true. He loves me. I know he does. And Dee wouldn’t do that. She needed to call her.
She shuffled back into the bedroom and looked around. Where was her phone? She scanned the room. It made her dizzy. She stumbled back to the bed and sat, leaning forward, bracing her head in her hands. She couldn’t talk to anyone right now, she realized. She was a mess.
She should have told Ryan about Blake. Too many lies. Too many secrets. They’d almost lost everything. She sat up, locked her arms against the mattress again, bracing for stability, determined to get out of this state. Her head felt heavy. She rested her chin on her chest, her eyes closed. But the spinning resumed. She fought to open them, one lid at a time, and looked around. There would be no fresh starts on this island. Too much had happened.
She thought again of Blake, his fingers digging into her arms when she tried to pull away. His hand pressed hard against her face after she’d screamed. And Georgia. She hated to think what might have happened if Georgia had not come running. Georgia had yelled at him, “Get off her!” and pulled hard at his arm.
It was almost funny now, thinking of cute, soft-spoken Georgia. That southern belle had been such a badass. Her hero. He’d stumbled back and called Georgia a bitch. But he’d released his grip on Shea and she tried to wedge past him.
“You’re next,” he’d said to Georgia before grabbing Shea from behind, a full bear hug, and throwing her back. She fell to the floor. He would not stop. Drunken, violent madness. But just as Shea got to her feet, she heard the whack and turned back, seeing the oar in Georgia’s arms. Blake’s hand rose to his face, stunned, as blood began to trickle down his forehead. He’d spewed more hatred and anger, but when he reached out, he’d stumbled, fallen to his knees.
They ran, never stopping to cry or think or even scream until they’d hit the park bench and collapsed in shock. And now Georgia was losing sleep, fearing the loss of everything she loved, all because Shea had refused to find police or help, or to tell a soul. All because of her shame. Georgia deserved better.
She fell back onto the bed, turned on her side, moved one foot to the floor to keep the room still. She would fix this. Maybe she could find a lawyer and tell her what happened and see if there was anything to fear. Maybe she could come forward with the truth without hurting anyone else.
She felt nauseated. She pushed herself up again and stumbled back to the bathroom. Spotting a white terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door, she stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a pile, and put on the robe. She drank more water and looked at the tub again. Maybe a bath would help.
She sat on the edge of the tub, but just before she turned on the faucet, she heard a knock at the door. Shea looked up, startled.
CHAPTER 45
April 15
KAT DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO believe or what to do. She’d gripped the gun so hard for so long, she was losing feeling in her arms. She felt dizzy, like she might collapse. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” she begged him.
Ryan dropped his hands. He began to cry. “Because Shea died. I didn’t want everyone thinking the worst, making assumptions, gossip swirling about some stranger’s death, wondering if she’d committed suicide over it. I didn’t want that for Shea or the kids.”
Kat didn’t know what to believe.
“After Shea died, Evelyn came to me. She told me why Shea went to Put-in-Bay. But she lied to me, Kat. She told me that Shea had asked her to go with her, but that she’d refused.”
They both looked over at Evelyn, who was sitting, frozen, her posture erect, her eyes glazed, staring at the wall, like she was in a trance.
“Evelyn was in the room that night, Ryan,” Kat said. “Shea’s phone is in that drawer.” She pointed toward the bedside table.
He looked at Evelyn and spoke, but almost no sound came out. “Is that true?”
She started crying. She finally looked at him, her eyes pleading. “You don’t understand. I knew what everyone would think. I saw her go in the inn with that guy. I knew what she was doing. But you’ve got it all wrong. I went to Rudolph’s for a drink. Her phone was on the bar. She’d left it. Ryan, no. I wasn’t in the room. I swear. I was going to return it. But then . . . she died. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t tell anyone. I left. I swear, I left.”
CHAPTER 46
April 1
7:30 p.m.
SHEA STUMBLED TOWARD THE DOOR. “Hello?” She wasn’t going to open the door for Ted. She’d learned enough about putting herself in vulnerable positions.
“It’s me,” she heard. “Open up.”
Shea unbolted the lock and opened the door. Evelyn walked past her into the room, dropping her bag. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.”
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”
Shea could hear the anger in her voice. “What are you talking about? No. I don’t understand. You said—”
“Yeah, I felt bad about leaving you, so I came back.” She walked through the room and into the bathroom, looking around. “But then I saw you with that guy at Rudolph’s. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Shea sat on the bed. “Don’t be crazy. We were just passing the time.”
“I saw you walking in here together, though.”
“He’s staying here. What’s wrong with you?”
Evelyn opened the closet door and looked inside. “So you’re alone?” She sounded like she didn’t believe it.
She scoffed. “Are you crazy? Of course I am. In fact,” she said, falling back toward the mattress again, “I’m glad you’re here. I feel sick, Ev.”
“How much did you drink?”
“I didn’t think it was that much.” She could hear her words coming out in a puddle. She couldn’t separate each sound. “I took some pills at the memorial. It was awful. His friends looked at me like I killed Blake, Ev. I thought . . . I’ve made such a mess. And I can’t even close my eyes. I get so dizzy.”
“What kind of pills?”
“Vicodin,” she said. “Ev. I thought they’d help. I been sooooo stu-pid.”
Evelyn didn’t say anything.
Shea looked up. Evelyn was scanning the room. She looked like she’d been crying. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Evelyn said briskly.
“Because you seemed upset in the car. And then you left me all day . . .”
“No, no, I’ve just got my own stuff going on. You’re not the only one with problems.”
Shea could hear the bite in those words. She was a bad friend. “You can talk to me, you know.”
Evelyn stood and went into the bathroom again, her heels clacking on the tile floor. The faucet came on. Shea let her lids close again. She was so tired.
The mattress moved. Evelyn was sitting beside her. “I’m sorry, Shea. I haven’t been a good friend today. I’m running you a bath. It’ll make you feel better.”
Shea leaned on Evelyn’s shoulder and smiled. “Thanks, Ev. I was just thinking I’d do that.”
A few minutes later, Evelyn helped Shea stand, and together they walked into the bathroom.
Shea got into the tub and leaned back against the slick porcelain. Evelyn folded a towel and put it behind her head. “Will you stay with me?”
“Sure,” Evelyn said. She went over and sat on the toilet.
Shea closed her eyes, relaxing, the world finally steady. “You know, I was afraid that you were the man from the bar . . . he propositioned . . .” It was a tough word to get out. “Ev . . . it was crazy.” She chuckled.
“Really?”
Shea didn’t have the strength to open her eyes anymore, but she smiled. “This feels so good. You better be sure I don’t fall asleep in here.”
Evelyn didn’t respond.
“Ev?” Her eyes were still closed.
“I’m here.” Evelyn’s voice sounded funny, as if she was trying to sound interested but was a million miles away.
“It was crazy, Ev. I mean, any woman would have been tempted by this guy. He was really good-looking and I am . . . not . . . in my right mind. You can see.” It was getting harder to get out each word. “There’s just one problem.” Shea opened her eyes and lifted her head. It took all the strength she had.
Evelyn was leaning forward, elbows propped on her thighs, her head in her hands. “What’s that?”
“I . . . love my husband. A lot. And he loves me, and that’s . . . just . . . the way it is.”
Evelyn said nothing, and Shea’s gaze returned to the water. She focused on her knees protruding like two little islands. “I’m a mess.” She closed her eyes and relaxed her head against the towel. She was so sleepy. “I’ve got some things to fix . . . when I get . . . home.” She took a deep, cleansing breath. “But it’s going to be okay. I think it’ll all be okay now.”
She heard Evelyn’s shoes clacking against the tile. “Can I use your phone? Mine is dead.”
“I don’t know where it is. Check . . . my purse,” she mumbled.
She heard Evelyn’s feet on the carpet. A moment later, she heard the feet return. “Find it?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Evelyn said, her voice coming closer.
“You’re a good friend,” Shea mumbled. She listened to her own breath, in and out, in and out. Her body began feeling heavy.
You’ll feel better tomorrow. It was Mary’s voice in her head . . . nice woman.
Her thoughts turned to Blake again . . . that night. The wind, the cold air. His fingers . . . she could still feel them squeezing her flesh . . .
She felt hands on her shoulders. “Shh.” Evelyn’s voice was just a whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry.”
For what?
Her muddled brain envisioned a hot spring, its floor like quicksand . . . It was like that middle ground between reality and dreams . . . nothing made sense . . . But something was pushing her down . . . first to the shoulders, then the chin, cheeks, eyes, hair. Her whole body submerged. She hesitated, something inside wanted to hold on, but . . . her feet pushed against the slick tub. They slipped; there was no way up. She tried . . . she couldn’t. She . . . tried. She opened her eyes; she didn’t understand why . . .
CHAPTER 47
April 15
KAT WAS EXHAUSTED, THE ENERGY draining from every inch of her body. It was difficult to breathe. She was getting light-headed. Ryan’s arms had collapsed, too. His head was down. Kat’s arms began to fall, her knees buckled.
Suddenly Evelyn was lunging, then Ryan. They were coming toward Kat. It was a blur of movement. Hands in her field of vision. Hands on hers, fighting the gun loose. She lost her grip. Someone had it. “No!” she cried. It was a scream inside her head, but the sound barely escaped her constricted windpipe. Her eyes closed. She could hear them wrestling for the gun.
“Baby, no, please,” she heard Evelyn say. “I love you. I just wanted it to be you and me.”
The blast shot through the room, so loud, so close to Kat’s head, it felt like she might never hear another sound. She felt a body collapse beside her.
Kat struggled to open her eyes. Ryan was in front of her. On his knees, his head on the carpet. She could hear him moaning. She moved her gaze, searching for his hands. Where was the gun? Evelyn was crumpled on the carpet, dead.
Ryan was weeping, a pained, guttural cry, like a wounded animal. “What have I done? What did I do?” he sobbed.
It was hard to focus on his words, to stay conscious. She could hear her own short breaths, fighting to get through her now tiny airway.
“I didn’t love Evelyn, Kat. I swear. I loved my wife. I thought we could start over. I never thought . . . I didn’t know . . .”
The front door slammed again.
CHAPTER 48
KAT SAT IN A COMFY CHAIR by the open window in Evelyn’s living room, sipping water, her eyes fixed on the dark grain of one oak plank on the floor in front of her. Tori had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and the white sheers blew in the breeze beside her. Her throat had relaxed and her eyelids felt lighter. She could open them fully. Paramedics were walking around. Police, too. Tori was sitting beside her, stroking her hand. Kat finally looked at her.
“Better?”
Kat nodded.
“Goddamn SATs,” Tori said. “Look what I missed.”
Kat smiled. “That cat.” She looked around the room, a little disoriented. She barely remembered Tori’s arrival. Just a vague recollection of Tori and Ryan getting her to the window, of Tori’s voice on the phone.
There was an officer seated on Kat’s other side. “You doing okay?”
Kat nodded.
“Mr. Walker has given a statement, but I’d like to hear from you, too.”
“Evelyn came at me. I heard them wrestle for the gun.” Kat looked at Ryan on the sofa, his eyes red, his body still, as if he could hardly believe what had happened. An officer was sitting beside him.
Ryan looked at her, his face weary. “After you told me Evelyn had gone with Shea, I thought she’d told her about us.” He began to break down again. “I thought Shea ended her own life, taking a handful of pills because of my betrayal, because of whatever Evelyn might have said to her. I came here to get answers, Kat.”
Kat didn’t know exactly what had happened in those final moments as her body began to fail. But Kat could think only of Leigh and Stephen. They’d already lost their mother and spent nearly two weeks believing that she might have killed herself. Torturing themselves for being oblivious about whatever was going on, probably guilt ridden, just as they’d all been. And now they would learn of their father’s betrayal. They’d learn of his lies, his secrets. And the woman who’d set about to destroy their parents’ life together. How that family would ever recover was hard to imagine, but at least they could know their dad’s pain and remorse.
Kat had heard Ryan’s cries after the blast. She believed his pain. He’d made terrible mistakes, but she believed in his love for Shea. He was not a murderer. He was heartbroken. Kat didn’t want any more lives destroyed. “He saved me,” she said.
The officer let Tori take Kat home, saying they’d be in touch.
“Kat,” Ryan said, extending his arm toward her as she walked by. She stopped. He stood and hugged her. She felt too weak to do anything but stand there. “I never meant to hurt Shea.” He began to cry.
She patted his back. “I know.” She pulled away.
Kat and Tori walked out together, neither saying a word as they descended the old elevator. They stepped outside into the bright sunshine. The parking lot was filled with squad cars and an ambulance. A crowd had gathered in the park across the street, trying to determine what had happened.
“My heart breaks for Leigh and Stephen,” Tori said as she pulled out of the lot and headed north to Lina’s. “First they lost their mom. Now this.”
Kat wiped the tears from her eyes. “I just wanted to find the truth. I didn’t want everyone to believe she’d killed herself. I didn’t want to ruin those kids’ lives.”
Tori patted her knee. “You didn’t ruin their lives, Kat. You found the truth. It’s always better to know the truth.”
“I hope so.”
When Tori pulled into Lina’s driveway, the front door flew open and Lina, Dee, and Georgia stepped out of the house. The troops had circled, ready to comfort the wounded again. They went inside and collapsed onto the couch together. After Kat gave them the five-second recap, Dee had some secrets to share as well. She’d had no idea Evelyn had been with Shea on the island, and never suspected anything as terrible as the truth, but
there was a reason she’d been so rude to Evelyn. She’d seen something at the luau party. It wasn’t enough to share with Shea, but it was enough to make her wary of Evelyn. She’d been on her way up to the master bathroom when she saw Ryan coming out the bathroom door. He’d looked flustered; he was wiping his neck. When Dee got up there, Evelyn had been standing at the mirror, putting on lipstick. Dee hadn’t seen anything between them, but she had a sinking feeling. And she’d said as much to Ryan that night, warning him that he’d better not hurt Shea. She didn’t think it was her place to say something to Shea, to meddle in their marriage and cause trouble when she had no proof.
The women agreed that they would not have said anything, either.
“I still don’t believe Shea was with Charlie,” Kat said. “And Ryan swore that it wasn’t true, either. He knew about Charlie’s feelings but said she didn’t share them.”
“I know,” Dee said. “I was so certain. When I went to Michigan to talk to Charlie the weekend she died, I found proof that she’d been at our place. But I finally talked to my soon-to-be ex, the shithead, last night. I told him what I’d found, and he told me the truth, that she’d gone there to protect my feelings, and to reject him. If only I’d talked to her . . .”
Georgia admitted that she’d been the one who’d hit Blake that night and refused to go with Shea to the memorial because of her own fear, just as Tori had suspected. In one way or another, they all knew that if only . . . Shea would still be alive.
Kat pulled both Dee and Georgia in for a hug. She felt Tori’s arms around her back, and Lina’s, too, a giant huddle. There was comfort in the fact that the guilt and second-guessing had been universal among them and that they’d finally learned the truth. “Let’s keep the blame on the woman who actually killed her,” Kat said. “None of us are perfect friends, but . . .”
