Cakewalk

by Claire Hastings

  “And I you, Gigi. And I you…”

  25

  Gigi

  The chime of the doorbell rang through the living room, disrupting Gigi from her perfect dream world. In it, she and Holden were hanging out on a playground, a little boy and girl playing on the swing set. The little boy was the spitting image of his daddy, with those piercing blue eyes and dark hair, while the little girl had matched her own blonde locks, but instead of her gray eyes, she’d been gifted with the same blue as the boy’s. Holden alternated pushing their son and daughter, each one laughing, screaming “higher, Daddy!” as he laughed right along with them. It all felt so real, until the doorbell pierced through once again, dragging her back into real life.

  Holden wants that too, she thought. So maybe that could be real life. Just as soon as you explain…

  Ding! Ding! Ding!

  It rang out again, in rapid succession, with whomever was at the door obviously growing impatient. Frustrated, Gigi threw off the quilt that they had snuggled under after watching a movie last night and pushed herself up from the mattress.

  “It’s a little early for guests,” Holden muttered, rolling over and looking at his phone. “Who the fuck is awake at eight thirty on New Year’s Day?”

  “Guess we’ll find out,” Gigi said, opening the door.

  Standing on the other side, dressed in his police uniform, was Officer Nelligan, accompanied by another man Gigi had never seen. His companion was older, late forties maybe, and wearing a tan trench coat over his suit, making him look like something out of an old detective movie.

  “Officer Nelligan,” Gigi said, suddenly feeling very awake. “What are you doing here so early?”

  “Hi, Miss Gigi. May we come in?”

  “Of course. Where are my manners?”

  The two gentlemen stepped inside, shaking the snow from their feet, their faces serious. They only came in far enough for her to close the door, which made Gigi nervous, but she tried to shake it off. She was sure there was a perfectly good reason for them being here so early on a holiday.

  “Miss Gigi, this is Detective Ball from the Vermont State Police. We’ve come to talk to you about your role in the death of your husband, Bradley Preston Hawthorne.”

  “My role?” she asked. Wait…did he say… “Hold on, his death?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Detective Ball said, taking a step forward. “We received a call from the Georgia State Police yesterday informing us that they’ve been searching for you.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  “Seems your husband’s body was found under some…suspicious circumstances.”

  “Suspicious circumstances?” she repeated, not fully comprehending what she was hearing. Bradley was dead? There was no way. He was alive and well when she left. He was getting ready to walk down the aisle, expecting to find her there to renew their vows. Now he was dead? No, they must have the wrong person.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Detective Ball confirmed, his face still like stone. “He was found floating in Lake Lanier.”

  Bradley was dead. Actually dead. Not fake dead like she’d been saying all this time. She was really, actually free of him. The room started to spin a little as she took in the news. She couldn’t believe it. He was gone. She had no idea what he’d been doing up at Lake Lanier, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that the new life she wanted with Holden could truly be a reality.

  “Mrs. Hawthorne, you seem to have disappeared from Atlanta on the tenth of October. Leaving behind everything. You left no note, told no one where you were going. Just up and left. Why is that?”

  “I…I…” she stumbled, not sure how to answer that. Did they really think she had something to do with this?

  “What’s going on here?” Holden asked, startling her as he stumbled over, rubbing the sleep from his face. She’d been so focused on what the detective was trying to tell her that she’d forgotten he’d still been in bed.

  “Who are you?” Detective Ball asked in return, looking Holden up and down.

  “I’m Holden St. James. This is my house. Who are you?”

  “Detective Ball, Vermont State Police. I believe you know Officer Nelligan,” he answered, nodding at the semi-guilty looking Colebury cop standing next to him. Holden nodded. “We’re here to inform Mrs. Hawthorne of her husband’s death and to find out what her involvement may be.”

  “His death? He’s been dead for months,” Holden said.

  “You knew about this?”

  “He had a heart attack over the summer, right?” Holden asked, turning to Gigi for confirmation. She sucked her lips into her mouth, not sure how to answer him.

  “Not exactly,” she confessed.

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” Holden said. Gigi could see the anger rising in him, even though his voice was tempered. But she knew him well enough now to know that his body language was anything but happy.

  “Mrs. Hawthorne, can you account for your actions the first few weeks of October?” The detective ignored Holden’s question, his face turning sour.

  “I know I told you he had a heart attack, and that I left to get a fresh start, but that’s only partially true,” she said, turning to Holden. How did she explain this? She knew she’d been wrong to lie to him for so long, but she hadn’t expected it to blow up quite like this. “I did leave to get a fresh start. Just when I left, he was alive.”

  “Alive…” Holden repeated.

  Gigi turned around and paced into the living room, trying to collect her thoughts. She knew she had to come clean. If she and Holden were going to have a future together, he needed to know the whole story. Then there were the two policemen still standing in the entry, waiting for her to explain just how he ended up dead. How was she supposed to know? She’d been long gone by that point. She also had no idea why he would go to the lake in October. He barely tolerated it in the summer, much less once the weather had cooled off.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, turning back to the visitors. “I arrived in Vermont on the thirteenth. Officer Nelligan can tell you. He helped me with a flat tire.”

  “Autopsy shows that your husband had been dead for some time prior to being found. We suspect foul play.”

  “Foul play?” Gigi and Holden said in unison.

  They think you killed him. They think you killed him and ran away…

  “Gigi, what the fuck is going on here? You said he was dead. But he’s been alive this whole time?”

  “Well, apparently not this whole time,” she muttered.

  “Not fucking funny, Gigi.”

  “Holden, I can explain!” she exclaimed.

  “Any explaining will need to be done with us, ma’am. Killing your husband is a felony.”

  Gigi turned to the detective, giving him an incredulous look. He could not be serious. Did he really think she didn’t know that? Was there anyone, anywhere who didn’t know murder was a felony?

  “I didn’t kill him!”

  “Officers, may we have a moment in private?” Holden asked, his teeth clenched and fists balled at his side. Gigi could see the anger radiating off of him, and she wasn’t sure what scared her more, the idea that the cops thought she killed Bradley or that Holden was furious with her.

  “We can give you five minutes, max,” Officer Nelligan said, finally speaking up, a sad smile resting on his face. “But then we need to take Miss Gi…Mrs. Hawthorne down to the station.”

  Gigi didn’t like the sound of that, but she remained silent as the men stepped outside. She didn’t need to aggravate them any more than they already were. She’d seen enough episodes of Law and Order to know exactly what they were thinking. It was the wife—it was always the wife.

  “Holden, I can explain!” she blurted out as soon as the door shut, rushing to him. She threw her arms around him, expecting him to hug her back. Except he didn’t.

  His body was stiff against hers as he withdrew from her embrace, giving her the exact same look he had on Thanksgiving. The look
turned her blood to ice, stealing her breath for a moment.

  “You better fucking get to explaining, Gigi.”

  Holden

  Gigi’s husband was dead.

  That was not something that Holden would have ever thought would anger him. At least that was the case when he thought the bastard had died of a heart attack months ago, rather than under suspicious circumstances just prior to her arriving in Vermont.

  “I don’t know where to start,” she said, her voice already sounding resigned.

  “The beginning is usually a pretty fucking good place.”

  “Everything I told you was true—”

  “Except it wasn’t, Gigi! Is that even your real name?” he shouted.

  He didn’t know what to believe. She had lied to him. Just how much was a lie? A story concocted so he would take pity on her? Had she known who he was this whole time? Known that he had money? Who his family was? Had it all been some clever ploy to deceive him?

  “Yes, my real name is GeorgiaGrace Elyse Shaw Hawthorne. When I was little, I had a nanny who called me Gigi, and I always liked the nickname, although my parents and Bradley insisted on calling me Georgia. It was less “cutesy,” they said. Everything I told you about my childhood and how I met Bradley was true,” she explained. “He and I met when I was twenty-two, married when I was twenty-four. About a year into our marriage, he became abusive. None of that was a lie. All the stories about the things he said and did to me were true. Including the story about the night you won your championship.”

  He could see the tears welling in her eyes, and part of him wanted to run to her. To take her in his arms and tell her it would be okay, that he was here for her. But another part—a bigger part—couldn’t believe that she had lied.

  “That was the first time I considered leaving him. Except, it wasn’t as easy as that. Everyone thought we had the perfect marriage. No one would believe me if I told them he was abusive. I was afraid for my life. I knew that he wouldn’t stop until I was dead. So I slowly started to funnel money out of my trust fund and figure out a plan. Bradley was insistent that for our tenth wedding anniversary, we throw a big to-do—vow renewal, reception, the whole shebang. So, we planned the whole thing,” she continued. “Bradley was a stickler about tradition, so he insisted we spend the night before the renewal apart. So that’s when I made my escape. I bought a secondhand car, with cash, and got a pay-as-you-go phone. I told no one. I just left.”

  “And came to Vermont?”

  “No. I was headed to Canada. Montreal, actually. I thought I could make a new start up there, find myself. Then I got lost and ended up taking the long way through Vermont, and ended up with a flat tire, which landed me in the Busy Bean. I overheard Zara and Audrey talking, and the rest is history.”

  “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. How do I know you’re not lying to me now?” he shouted. He didn’t want to be that guy, the same one he’d been on Thanksgiving. But he couldn’t help himself. He was so angry it was almost hard to see at this point.

  This wasn’t happening. He blinked over and over again, trying to make everything come into focus. Reaching over with his right hand, he pinched himself—hard—just trying to make sure that this was real. That this wasn’t some nightmare. That his subconscious wasn’t fucking with him. He felt the pain caused by his fingers and knew that he wasn’t asleep. This was all really happening. His beautiful, sweet Gigi was a liar.

  “I’m not! I promise! I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t plan for you!” she exclaimed, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “When they offered me the job, I thought maybe I could make a small town work, because everyone in small towns has secrets, right? I made up a story about my husband being dead so that no one would ask questions. I was afraid that if he found me, he would kill me. That’s why I left everything behind, so he couldn’t track me down! I was afraid for my life. I didn’t plan on making friends, much less meeting you and falling in love. I meant everything I said last night, Holden. I love you. You have believed in me like no one else. You helped me figure out who I am!”

  “And who is that, Gigi? A spoiled, real housewife? A widow? I thought I knew you. But the Gigi I thought I knew wouldn’t lie to me. The Gigi I thought I knew poured her heart out to me about her abusive husband and all the hopes and dreams he stole from her. She and I bonded over the loss of our spouses and what it was like to grieve in a way no one else understood.” He turned and walked into the living room, unsure of what to do. The betrayal he felt clung to him like a wet blanket, weighing him down to the point he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Maybe both. He needed to do something with all these emotions before he exploded even more than he already had.

  “I’m still that Gigi! Bradley has been dead to me since the second I drove out of Atlanta. I left him and all that behind. I was mourning—the loss of my marriage and the life I knew.”

  “You’re a fucking liar! That’s what you are.”

  “I only lied about Bradley being dead. That’s it,” she pleaded, as if all she had done was tell him they were out of cookies because she was saving the last one for herself.

  “That’s it?” he scoffed. “That’s kind of a big deal, Gigi! Telling people your husband is dead when he’s not! Fucking another man along the way.” He saw her wince at his accusation, taking in his harsh words.

  “I was afraid if he found me, he would kill me,” she told him again, her voice shaky even as she tried to steady it. He wanted to believe her, but he just couldn’t. How could he have been deceived so easily?

  “Did you know who I was when I walked into the Busy Bean that day? Know about my connection to Caulfield or about my wife? Was I just some unsuspecting widower that you thought you could con?”

  “How could you think that I could do such a thing? No, I had no idea who you were, who your family was or anything. When Kirk introduced us you were just some grumpy guy who was willing to take pity on me.”

  Holden didn’t know if hearing her say that made him feel better or worse. Would he have felt better if he had been some kind of a mark, rather than someone she just happened to be able to take advantage of? Probably not. Either way, her actions were manipulative, and he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around it all.

  “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me make an ass of myself?”

  “Yes!” she answered, rushing toward him. He backed away from her again. He couldn’t touch her right now. Her touch had always been so calming to him, but now he was pretty sure the only thing it would do was anger him more. “I was going to tell you today. So that we could plan our future.”

  “Future? You think I want a fucking future with you after that?! After you lied to me? After you took advantage of me all these weeks?”

  “Holden, that was never my intention.”

  Her words fell on deaf ears. He wanted to believe her, wanted to know that he hadn’t fallen for someone who would do this kind of thing. But she’d already admitted to the lies. If she was guilty of that, what else had she done?

  “I need to know. Did you kill him?” Even as he asked the question, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. He wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he found out he’d fallen for a murderer.

  “Bradley? No! I was already here in Vermont! I left him, that was it. I ran away, hoping to disappear. That was all I wanted, to disappear. Holden, you have to believe me. I love you.”

  “No, stop right there,” he said, raising a hand. “You betrayed me and my trust. I don’t want to hear any more from you. Get out.”

  “Holden…” she sobbed.

  A knock at the door stole his attention away from her and her tears. He walked over and let the cops back in, standing in silence as they nodded their thanks. He didn’t want to say anything else, afraid of what he might do. His heart felt like it had been ripped into a million pieces. It’d been crushed thoroughly when he’d found Hannah, but somehow, t
his pain might be worse. Hannah was stolen from him, but she’d never betrayed him.

  “Mrs. Hawthorne, we need you to please come with us,” Detective Ball said, his voice rough and emotionless.

  “Am I under arrest?”

  “Not yet.”

  26

  Gigi

  The little room Gigi had spent the last five hours in smelled musty and was obviously not a room that saw a lot of use, other than some extra storage. The cardboard boxes that had been on the table when they brought her in were now stacked in a corner, making the tight space even more claustrophobic. Glancing up at the clock for what felt like the millionth time, she wondered how much longer she was going to have to sit here. No one had been overly forthcoming with any kind of information since she was escorted out of the house and told to wait in here. Officer Nelligan had poked his head in a couple of times to bring her a bottle of water and a snack and see if she needed the bathroom, but other than that, she hadn’t seen a soul.

  A shiver ran through her, making her long for the reassurance of Holden’s arms. Or at least warmer clothes than the ones she was wearing. To do over again she would have insisted on being able to change before leaving the house, rather than just throwing on the shoes and parka that were by the door. For as warm and comfortable as they were at home, Holden’s sweatpants and T-shirt were not cutting it now.

  Home.

  Gigi sighed, realizing that Montgomery Manor was probably not home anymore. It didn’t really matter how much she ached for Holden’s touch or simply the sound of his voice. The look in his eyes when she was leaving told her everything—he never wanted to see her again. The thought of losing him made her queasy, more so than the idea of leaving Bradley ever had. Why hadn’t she just been honest earlier? Why didn’t she confide in him that night when they were baring their souls to each other? Because you were afraid Bradley would find you, she told herself. Except she knew now that had she told him, he would have protected her. He would have done whatever was necessary to make sure she was safe. That ship had sailed now.