The House on the Water

by Margot Hunt

  “Are you a heavy sleeper?” Detective Monroe asked.

  “I think I’m a normal sleeper,” I said. “Some nights are better than others. What you’re really asking me is if it’s possible that John got out of the bed and left the room after I fell asleep without waking me up. Is that right?”

  “That’s right,” Detective Reddick confirmed.

  “Of course it’s possible,” I said.

  I closed the front door behind the policemen and then leaned forward, pressing my head against the glass pane insert. What now? Two marriages had been destroyed that afternoon, and both couples were locked up together. The vacation house was expansive, but I didn’t think it was large enough to contain all of the rage.

  John and Esme. It was unbelievable, and yet I’d seen proof that the affair had really happened. Thousands of lewd texts. Illicit trips to see each other. It wasn’t just sex, either. No. They had proclaimed their love for each other. They were making plans for a future.

  How dare they? I thought, as anger pulsed through me. How could they be so selfish? So destructive?

  The stairs seemed to dip and sway as I climbed slowly up toward the living room. The stress and anger were taking a physical toll on my body. Everything seemed so bright, my eyes couldn’t focus. My skin felt too tight over my body. There was a pain in my chest that made it difficult to breathe.

  I made it to the living room and then just stood there, looking vacantly around at the cheery vacation-home décor. Suddenly, Ford was there, gripping my elbow.

  “Caroline,” he said. “I think you should sit down. You’re as pale as a—”

  “Ghost?” I quipped.

  I started laughing, and once I began, I couldn’t seem to stop. Only, it didn’t sound like laughter. It was more of an unhinged cackling. Ford looked unnerved.

  “Let me get you a glass of water.” Ford steered me toward a chair. Once I was sitting, he knelt beside me. “I know it feels like your world has been kicked upside down, but trust me, you’ll get through this. You’re stronger than you know.”

  The laugher died in my throat. “That’s a nice sentiment. But not everyone gets to have a happy ending.”

  “You will,” Ford promised.

  “Don’t be so sure. You don’t know me that well.”

  “I know you’re a nice person. I know you didn’t deserve to have your husband and best friend betray you.”

  “The police told you?”

  Ford nodded. “They asked me if I knew anything about John and Esme’s relationship. I didn’t, of course.”

  He stood, went to the kitchen, and poured a glass of water. He brought it back and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting the glass.

  “Of course. Just breathe. You’ve had upsetting news.”

  Nick came downstairs from the third floor. “What’s going on?”

  “Nick,” Ford said. “We should probably go somewhere we can speak privately.”

  Nick ignored him. “What’s wrong, Caroline?”

  “I just found out that John and Esme were having an affair.”

  “Jesus.” Nick exhaled. “Recently?”

  “For the past eighteen months. It was still going on. You couldn’t hear what the police were saying when they were interviewing us?”

  Nick shook his head. “I had my earbuds in, listening to music. I needed to check out. But Esme and John? That seems hard to believe, but I guess it explains why the police asked me if I had ever seen them together.”

  “Had you?” Ford asked.

  “Actually, yes.” Nick looked at Ford for the first time since entering the room. “We both did. Remember? The day we arrived, right before we left for the store.”

  “Right.” Ford frowned. “I completely forgot about that.”

  I rubbed my face with one hand. Did I even want to hear this? No, I did not. Right now, all I wanted was to be at home in my own bed with the covers pulled up over my head, and for the entire world to disappear. Finding out my son was a drug addict, learning the two people I was closest to in the world had betrayed me, Esme’s death. It was too much for one person to bear.

  Nick continued, oblivious to my distress. “Esme and John were out on the deck together. They weren’t touching, but they were standing close and they looked . . . intense.”

  “You’re right,” Ford said. “I didn’t really think anything of it at the time, but it was odd.”

  “I know what they were discussing. Esme wanted to tell me about their affair. John wanted to wait,” I said dully. “The police showed me their texts.”

  “Why would Esme want to do that?” Nick asked. “Wouldn’t she want to hide it from you?”

  I shrugged. “They planned on having a future together, and she wanted to move forward with that. I was the obstacle standing in their way.”

  “You know, some people have an almost narcissistic compulsion to confess,” Ford said. “It relieves their guilt at your expense.”

  “Clearly not something you suffer from,” Nick said pointedly.

  “No,” Ford said. “I’ve always thought it was selfish to burden other people in that way. But that’s not why I didn’t tell you about my criminal record.”

  “You didn’t tell me because it would have been bad for business.”

  “Honey,” Ford said, reaching out to take Nick’s hand. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid of losing you. I didn’t marry you for your money. I won’t say that having money doesn’t matter, because of course it does. It makes life easier. But I married you because I love you.”

  “Why should I believe you now?” Nick asked, although he didn’t pull his hand out of Ford’s grasp. “How can I ever trust you again?”

  “I don’t know,” Ford said, shaking his head. “I guess I’ll have to earn that trust back. And I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  The two men looked at each other for a long time. I felt like a voyeur, but I couldn’t muster the energy to stand up and walk away. And where would I go? We were all trapped here. Except for John, apparently, who still hadn’t returned from his walk.

  Why isn’t he back? I wondered. Is he afraid to face me? Or is he more frightened of the conclusions the police are clearly drawing?

  “Did the detectives tell either of you who they’re focusing their investigation on?”

  Nick and Ford both jerked their heads around, as though they’d forgotten I was there.

  “I think they told me about Ford’s past to see how I’d react,” Nick said. “And they did ask me quite a few questions about John. I couldn’t tell them much. I’ve known John for years, of course, but we’ve never been close. I had no idea about the affair.”

  “The thing is, Caroline, Nick and I were together that entire night,” Ford said gently. “There was never a point when we were apart.”

  “You had to have fallen asleep as some point,” I pointed out.

  “We were actually up late that night, watching a movie on my tablet,” Nick said. “I don’t think we went to sleep until, what?” He looked at Ford. “Two in the morning?”

  “Around then,” Ford said. “I have chronic insomnia. Nick’s gotten in the habit of keeping me company on the nights I can’t sleep.”

  “The police should be able to confirm that we were streaming a movie, right?” Nick asked. “They took my tablet.”

  “They might be able to tell that there was a movie playing, but that’s not proof that we watched it,” Ford said. Nick frowned at him, and Ford raised his hands in protest. “Look, I’m just being realistic. Having a movie on isn’t an alibi.”

  “The only way either one of us could have killed Esme is if we conspired to do it together.” Nick looked at me. “And, Caroline, we didn’t. Esme and I might have had our issues, but I loved my sister. I could never have hurt her.”

  I nodded. Nick and Ford had given each other an alibi. And yes, they might have had a financial motivation for killing Esme. But John was a spurned lover. And I was a bet
rayed wife.

  The glass-paned door opened, and John walked in. His fair hair was windblown and his cheeks were red. He ignored the two other men and looked straight at me.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Out on the deck, I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, staring at my husband, the man whom I once thought I would be married to for the rest of my life. I had to admit John had grown even more handsome with age. The faint lines near his eyes and mouth softened his sharp features, and he ran most mornings, which kept him in excellent shape. It didn’t surprise me that other women would be attracted to him. Or even, really, that he would give in to the temptation of an extramarital liaison.

  But Esme. Why did he have to pick her? And why did she go along with it? Or did I have it the wrong way around? Had Esme been the pursuer and John her chosen prey? Esme had always been acquisitive. And she almost always got what she wanted.

  “Will you sit down?” John gestured almost gallantly toward the cushioned love seat and chairs.

  “I’m fine standing.”

  “We have things we need to discuss.”

  “You mean like your affair?” I asked pointedly.

  “I suppose we’ll have to get into that. But the more pressing issue right now is that the police consider me a suspect in Esme’s death.”

  “I know. You used me as an alibi. They asked me to back it up.”

  “Did you?”

  “No,” I said crisply. “I did not.”

  “Jesus, Caroline.” John sat down heavily on the love seat and stared up at me in disbelief. “I understand you’re angry. But this is serious—you can’t possibly think that I’d hurt Esme.”

  “I didn’t think you’d ever sleep with Esme, either.”

  “So you’re going to implicate me in her death as, what . . . some sort of revenge?”

  “Of course not, but I wasn’t going to lie on your behalf either. When the police asked me if it was possible that you could have gotten up and left the room after I fell asleep, I said it was.”

  “Right. Suddenly, you’re all about the truth.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Caroline, you live in a constant state of denial. Look at Aiden. In your mind, his problem with drugs began when he started dating Darcy. She was some sort of bad seed that led our innocent Aiden astray.”

  “She did!” I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. “He wouldn’t be in rehab right now if he hadn’t met that girl!”

  “Aiden has had substance abuse issues for years. How many times did we catch him smoking pot in high school? Or coming home drunk? Hell, I think he might have been in middle school the first time I caught him drinking.”

  “All teenagers do that!”

  “Actually, no, they don’t,” John retorted. “And Aiden didn’t exactly stop there, did he? How about the time he stole Jake Mirren’s Adderall? Thank God his family didn’t want to get the cops involved.”

  “Aiden was failing pre-calculus. He thought the Adderall might help him study. It was a stupid mistake, obviously, but he had good intentions.”

  “Right. And that’s why he was selling it to other kids for ten dollars a pill?”

  “It was one kid. One! You’re making him sound like some sort of a drug dealer.”

  “Selling drugs is what makes someone a drug dealer.” John sighed and closed his eyes. “Caroline. When was the last time you saw Aiden when he wasn’t drunk or high? Or hungover? You pretend it isn’t happening. It’s like you think if you don’t acknowledge it, it isn’t real.”

  “That’s not true,” I protested. “I’m the one who took him to see that therapist. You said it was a waste of time.”

  “It was. He didn’t need to talk to someone about how school was stressing him out. By that point, he needed a serious intervention, probably even rehab.”

  “I see.” I laughed bitterly. “It’s always the mother’s fault, right?”

  “I’m not saying that. What I’m saying is that you have a long history of ignoring the things you don’t want to face. Like Aiden. Like the problems in our marriage.”

  “And that’s your excuse for having an affair with my best friend?”

  “I’m not saying that.”

  “The police showed me your texts,” I informed him. “And not just the dirty ones. I read all about how you were planning on leaving me and starting a new life with Esme.”

  John opened his eyes and looked directly at me. “I’m not going to lie to you, Caroline. I loved her.”

  In the texts, John and Esme had thrown that word back and forth countless times. But still. Hearing it directly from my husband cut deeply.

  Another gust of wind blew up off the water. This time, it lifted the black and white striped umbrella out of its stand and sent it careening across the deck. John cursed and chased after it. I watched as he retrieved the umbrella and set it back in its stand.

  “I suppose it helped that Esme was wealthy, and about to become even wealthier,” I said bitterly.

  “I didn’t care about her money,” John protested.

  “Right. But you were quick to assume that Ford married Nick for his money. It was obviously on your mind.” I shook my head. “You disgust me. When we get home, you’re moving out. This marriage is over.”

  John lowered the umbrella, so that it wouldn’t blow away again. “First, we have to get through this fiasco, so that we can actually go home.”

  “I already told the police that if you got up in the middle of the night I could have slept right through it. I can’t take it back. And I wouldn’t even if I could. It’s the truth.”

  “If Esme was murdered—which I still think is highly unlikely—those two were obviously behind it.” John gestured toward the house, where Nick and Ford sat, pretending that they weren’t watching us.

  “They’ve given each other an alibi. They said they were together, watching a movie in bed, at the time Esme died.”

  “They could both be lying.”

  I shrugged. “I suppose someone here is. Are we done?”

  “No. We need to come up with a story to go back to the police with. Ford and Nick have their version of events, we need to have ours. We’ll say we were drunk, and it wasn’t until we talked that we were able to piece together our movements that night.”

  “They’ll never believe that. They’ll know we just made it up.”

  “It’s better than nothing. Come on, Caroline. We have to stick together.”

  I looked at my husband, who had suddenly abandoned his caustic tone and was now looking at me earnestly. A moment ago, he’d been attacking me, blaming me for all of our problems. Now he expected me to be his ally.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re on your own.”

  I turned and walked back toward the house.

  “I had nothing to do with Esme’s death,” John said.

  I looked back at my husband and realized in that moment that I would be perfectly happy never seeing his smug, self-satisfied face ever again. I had never felt more alone in my life.

  “Then you should have nothing to worry about,” I said.

  I went upstairs to our bathroom and locked the door behind me. I undressed, set the shower on its hottest setting, and then stood under the steaming water, letting it fall over my shoulders and back. I tried to focus on breathing in deeply and clearing my mind. I stayed in the shower until the water started to run lukewarm, then turned cold. I toweled off and had just pulled on a T-shirt and leggings when the shouting began.

  Nick’s voice was the loudest, but I could hear John yelling, too. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, so I opened the bedroom door and moved into the hallway to listen.

  “I didn’t do anything to Esme!” John said.

  “You were sleeping with her!” Nick shouted back at him.

  “That doesn’t mean I’d hurt her!”

  “You’re the only one with a motive,” Nick argued. “What happened? I bet s
he ended it, and you couldn’t deal with that because you’re a self-centered, narcissistic asshole!”

  “As a matter of fact, she didn’t. We were planning on a future together. And you think I’m the one with a motive?” John let out a bark of laughter. “Your inheritance just doubled. An extra ten million dollars is one hell of a motive to kill someone.”

  I reached the stairs and started down them. It felt as if my feet were moving on their own, taking each step slowly and heavily. I didn’t want to go down there. I didn’t want to hear another word. And yet I couldn’t stay away.

  “Yelling like this isn’t helping anything,” Ford said.

  “I loved my sister. I would never have hurt her!”

  “I loved her, too!” John yelled back, just as I reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the living room.

  John and Nick were squared off, facing each other, their faces both flushed with emotion. John was taller, but Nick was thicker and more muscular and seemed the more imposing of the two, especially since his hands were clenched into fists. Ford was standing between them, his arms spread wide, as though he were keeping the other two men apart. He looked and saw me.

  “Caroline,” he said almost apologetically.

  John and Nick both turned to look at me, too. My appearance seemed to suck all the energy out of their fight. Nick lowered his hands to his sides. John looked suddenly tired, almost frail.

  “Please stop yelling,” I said wearily.

  “He thinks I killed Esme,” John said.

  “I didn’t say that,” Nick said, flaring up at once. “I still think she died of natural causes. What I said is, if she was murdered, I know Ford and I didn’t do it. Caroline didn’t have a motive. So that only leaves you.”

  “Nick,” Ford said softly. He glanced at me, clearly concerned that I’d just overheard my husband yelling about having been in love with Esme. “This isn’t the time or place.”

  “Well, when and where would that be? It’s not like we’re going to stay in touch with this guy.” Nick shook his head in disgust, glaring at John. “My sister deserved better than you. She could have any man she wanted, and yet she kept falling in love with creeps. First David, then you.”