by Laurèn Lee
“Yes, ring it up,” I said absently as I handed the petite woman my credit card.
I walked out of the mall with far too many bags than I should have, but it didn’t matter. It was the least of my problems. If anything, at least I would be the star of my own Greek tragedy, and I’d continue the destruction in style.
Later that evening, James finally came home as I sat at the kitchen counter, finishing a glass of wine which emptied the bottle beside me. He sighed with relief as he walked in and poured himself a drink.
“How did it go?”
“They let me go! They said they didn’t believe I had anything to do with Helena’s murder, but they asked that I keep in touch if I learn of anything suspicious.”
“See? I told you everything would be fine.”
He grunted, and he sipped his drink, dribbling some down his chin to stain his Oxford button-up.
“Who could do such a thing, though?”
“I don’t know, James. I honestly don’t know.”
“How could anyone kill another human in cold blood? Do you think it’s a serial killer? What kind of person would do this? I mean, in your experience?”
“To kill in cold blood requires a lack of a conscience. No empathy. No guilt.”
“Sounds like a monster.” He sighed with his head down.
“Unfortunately, monsters aren’t simply characters in a fairy tale. Real monsters are out there, and they may be closer than we know.”
“I’m sorry, Delilah. For putting you through all this. You must hate me.”
“I don’t think you want me to answer that.”
“Where did we go wrong?” he asked, looking like a wounded animal.
“You mean besides the fact you cheated?”
He sighed, “Yes, I mean what happened before that?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who strayed away from our marriage. You broke our vows to each other.”
“I know.”
“Was it something I did?” I asked slowly.
“I’m not totally sure, to be honest. I think we just grew apart, maybe it’s no one’s fault.” He wiped away a tear from the corner of his eyes and sniffled.
“People don’t just grow apart. People let the distance in; sometimes, they even invite it,” I said. “Maybe we never should have gotten married so young. Maybe we should’ve waited.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded.
“It’s true. We were just starting our lives, and we shouldn’t have put so much pressure on ourselves to be mature enough to have a successful marriage.”
“We were so in love, though. You know we wouldn’t have waited.”
“You’re right. We wouldn’t have.”
“Maybe in another life, we would have worked out?” he suggested.
“Yeah, perhaps,” I said longingly. “I’m going to go to bed. But, I’m glad everything went okay with the police. I’m sure they’ll find who did this soon enough. And, I’m sorry you won’t get a chance to be a father. You would have made a great dad to that baby.”
James nodded, too choked up to thank me.
45
Present
“Delilah! How are you? I hoped you’d get in touch!” my friend Joannah crooned through the phone.
“I’m all right. I was wondering what you’re doing this weekend? I thought we could get together, just you and me for dinner?”
“That sounds perfect! I could use some girl time.” She laughed.
“Me too,” I admitted.
“Well, let’s meet at the Black Kettle, I’ll make the reservations. Say, eight p.m.? Sound okay?”
“Perfect. See you then!”
I hung up the phone feeling a little calmer. Joannah was a good friend, I wished we saw each other more often, but as life tended to go, we drifted away from our friends as we grew older.
“Who were you on the phone with?” James asked with bloodshot eyes and still dressed in his robe.
“Joannah. We are going to dinner this weekend.”
“Double date?”
“No, just us.”
“Oh, okay. That sounds nice.”
“Any word from the police?” I asked. “Any leads?”
“No, nothing. I have been calling and emailing the detectives, but they’ve started to ignore me. I think I’m annoying them with all my questions and requests for updates.”
I nodded because I’m sure he was.
“I don’t think they will ever catch who’s done this, Delilah,” he admitted, defeatedly.
“Maybe you should go see someone. It might help you, you know, cope.”
“You mean a shrink?”
“A therapist, James.”
“Well, I have you, don’t I?”
“I can’t treat you, and you know that. You’re my husband, and it would be nearly impossible to separate myself from our marriage. It would be borderline unethical.”
“Okay, okay. I get it.”
“I’m just saying. It couldn’t hurt to talk about all this with a professional.”
“I’ve had enough of being psychoanalyzed throughout our marriage. I don’t want to go through that again.”
“Fine. Suit yourself,” I said, trying to keep my voice down. “But, my patience is growing thin.”
“Excuse me?”
“A terrible thing happened, yes, but I am tired of hearing about it and seeing you so upset.”
“A person died, Delilah. For Christ’s sake, do you even have a heart?”
I thought about his accusation for a moment and wondered if he may be right. Did I have a heart? Here I was, lying to my husband’s face about the facts surrounding his mistress’ death. About his child’s death. No, it simply had to be done. I couldn’t think about what was right and what was wrong. I needed to focus on my own life.
“I’m going for a drive,” James said once he realized I didn’t want to continue speaking about the matter.
“Will you be home for dinner?” I asked coldly.
“Probably not.”
“Fine, see you later.”
And with that, James grabbed his keys and left.
_
Midnight quickly approached, and James still hadn’t returned. Part of me wanted to call him to see if he was all right, and the other part of me wished he’d never come home. I lay in bed, tossing and turning, staring at the clock. At this rate, I’d never fall asleep.
In the next moment, I heard my iPhone vibrate, and I rushed to grab it from my nightstand. It was Lucas.
“Lucas. Why are you calling me so late? Wait, why are you calling me at all?” I sat up straight in bed and turned on the lamp beside me.
“I wanted to hear your voice,” he answered smoothly.
“You shouldn’t have called.”
“Well, I did. So, talk to me.”
“I am not in the mood to talk. It’s late.”
“But you’re still up, so it’s not like I woke you.”
“How do you know I’m still awake?” I asked suspiciously.
“That doesn’t matter. How are you?”
“Lucas, please. I’ve already made a fool of myself confessing that I had feelings for you. Can you stop pushing the knife in deeper?”
Silence.
“Hello? Lucas? Are you there?”
Silence.
I looked down to my phone and realized the call had ended. He’d hung up on me.
What the hell?
I was starting to feel crazy, losing my grip on reality. Lucas had me wrapped around his finger, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I wasn’t strong enough, or rather, maybe I didn’t want to be. I couldn’t fend him off. He was my poison, and I was a masochist.
Eventually, I fell asleep, just as the birds began to chirp.
46
Present
At promptly eight in the evening, Joannah and I sat down at the Black Kettle for dinner. She’d worn her strawberry blonde curls in a tight bun and had chosen a beautiful floral dress f
or the occasion. I wore my hair in a loose ponytail with designer jeans and a striped button-up top.
“You look gorgeous!” Joannah admonished as she took me in her arms.
“Right back at you! I love your dress!”
“Oh? This old thing?” she began. “I just bought this today. But, don’t tell my husband.” She winked.
We ordered a pair of martinis and began to catch up. We hadn’t seen each other in quite a lot time, possibly since James had his outburst at dinner.
“So, how are you? Tell me everything!”
Where would I begin?
“Well, not too much has been going on,” I lied.
“I doubt that! Spill, girl!”
Joannah, despite being a neurologist, still acted like a high school gossip queen. I didn’t mind, though, since I usually didn’t have much to tell. Now, though, I had more than enough.
“James and I are splitting up,” I admitted, sipping my drink.
She gasped and immediately got up to give me a hug, “Oh my, God! I’m so sorry, Delilah! What happened?”
“He met someone else. Fathered a baby with her.” I was short, but to be honest, it felt good to talk to someone about it.
“Bastard!” she screeched, causing other patrons to look around at the disturbance. She didn’t care, though.
“The worst part is I didn’t see it coming.”
“I wouldn’t have either! You two were always the perfect couple. Are you getting a divorce? Is he still seeing her?”
“I think we will divorce. There’s not much left of our marriage to salvage, but no he’s not still seeing her.”
“So, he cheats on you, knocks a woman up and then doesn’t even have the balls to man up for the kid?” She shook her head, also gulping down her martini.
“Well, do you remember hearing about that woman they pulled out of the river?”
“Yes?”
“That was her.”
Joannah gasped, “Holy hell, Delilah! That was her? Jesus. It’s like you’re living in a soap opera or something!”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I said as I signaled to the waiter to bring us another round. I began to feel warm and more relaxed. I needed this.
“Do the police know who did it? Was it James?” she whispered.
“No leads and no, James didn’t do it.”
“You believe him?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes. I think he was in love with her and he’d have done anything for a baby.”
“Wow, I don’t know what else to say,” she said. “Are you okay? Are you hanging in there?”
“Barely,” I responded truthfully.
“Do you think you’ll ever remarry?”
“Oh, God. I don’t even want to think about that! Oh, thank you!” I said to the waiter with our drinks.
Joannah and I clinked glasses and sipped simultaneously.
“Are you seeing anyone now?”
I nearly choked on my dirty martini, “Seeing anyone? Definitely not.”
Joannah studied me curiously, “You can tell me, Delilah. I can keep a secret! Not like it would be a bad thing to get yourself back out there after everything James has done.”
“Well…” I began.
“Yes?”
“There might be someone,” I said, instantly regretting it.
Joannah screeched in delight, “Tell me everything!”
“It’s nothing serious. We are still getting to know one another,” I said, partly telling the truth.
“Have you two, you know?” This woman didn’t shy away from asking any questions.
I chuckled, putting my hands on my cheeks to hide my blushing.
“You little minx!” she cried out.
“Shhhhh!”
“Sorry,” she whispered. “What was it like? Damn, I can’t remember the last time I picked up a man.”
“I can’t kiss and tell, Joannah.”
“Stop it right this instant, and you tell me. I need some romance in my life damn it!” she laughed.
“Okay, okay. It was amazing. Best I’ve ever had if we're candid.
She clapped like a giddy little girl about to receive a birthday present, “I’m so happy for you! You deserve to have a man who cares and respects you.”
“We’ll see. I’m not going to put all my eggs in one basket.”
“Of course, of course.”
Just then, our dinners came, and we paused our conversation to indulge in our delicious entrees. We both chose the chef’s special— salmon and grilled vegetables. We made small talk in between bites but abandoned all talk about my love life, which I was grateful for. I shouldn’t have shared as much as I did, but I couldn’t help it. Thinking about Lucas made me feel like a love-crazed teenager again.
Once we finished our meals, I let Joannah talk about her life and what had been happening with her since we last saw each other. She told me about some strange neurological cases which she had seen and talked about her children, how they were doing in school and what types of sports they were playing.
She glowed when she talked about her children. She loved them so much. I wondered what my life would be like if James and I had children. Would Joannah and I still be at dinner? Or, would I be driving a minivan carting one of them to soccer practice or tap lessons? If only.
We parted ways, kissing each other on the cheek and promised to meet up again soon. I was grateful for the company, and I agreed we shouldn’t let so much time pass before we saw each other again.
Even though it had felt like we were together for hours, it wasn’t even eleven yet. I didn’t quite feel like going home yet, so I decided to take a walk further down Main Street and to the river.
Once I reached the glassy, calm surface, a chill ran down my spine. This had been where Lucas had disposed of the body. This was where Lucas dumped Helena like yesterday’s trash.
I rubbed my arms trying to create some heat during the cold evening. I hadn’t thought about bringing a jacket, after all, I never expected to be outside by the river. I approached a wooden bench and took a seat. It was quiet on the waterfront. No one else was around. I gazed out to the water and let my eyes take in the moon’s reflection on top of the surface.
All of a sudden, I heard the crack of a branch and I whipped around to find the source of the disturbance. About ten feet away, a man leaned against a tree, with folded arms.
“Are you Dr. Delilah Hedley?”
“Yes?” I asked, grabbing for the pepper spray in my purse.
“I would like to speak with you,” the man said smoothly.
“What about?”
“I need to talk to you about the murder of Helena Woodruff.”
47
Present
The man sat down beside me and showed me his badge just as I was about to request to see his identification.
“Detective Boucher, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I nodded, waiting for him to elaborate.
“What brings you out this evening, Doctor?”
“I could ask you the same, Detective. How did you know I was here?”
“I followed you,” he said nonchalantly.
“Is that typical practice for a police detective?”
“Not usually,” he admitted.
“Well, how can I help you?”
“Do you know anything about the murder of your husband’s mistress?” he asked casually.
“I only know what I’ve seen on the news.”
“We let your husband go after we thoroughly questioned him.”
“I’m aware.”
“Do you think he was involved with the murder?” Detective Boucher looked at me carefully without blinking. His salt and pepper hair glowed in the moonlight, and he had many wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Signs of a happy man, or, maybe evidence of someone constantly pretending to be happy.
“I know for a fact he wasn’t involved. We were together the day she was killed, as you should already know.”
“Yes, yes. He mentioned that,” he said. “So, did you know about the affair?”
“I didn’t know until recently,” I said, hoping that didn’t cast a guilty shadow upon myself.
“Were you angry?”
“I was hurt,” I answered carefully. “However, it didn’t come as much of a shock as one would think.”
“How so?”
“We haven’t had the best marriage the past few years. I’m surprised James didn’t have an affair before this.”
“If you both were so unhappy, then why have you stayed together thus far?”
“That’s a question I have been asking myself every day, Detective.”
“Did you ever meet Helena?”
“Yes. I met her for coffee.”
Boucher took out his notepad and began to jot down a few things, “And how did that go?”
“It was fine. I just wanted to put a face to the name. We had a pleasant conversation and parted our separate ways.”
“Did you ever see her again after that?”
I thought back to seeing her in my office, hysterical. If I lied to the detective, would he ever find out? If he came to my office, would Jennifer remember Helena was the same woman who had come in to see me?
“No, there was no need to meet again. She is, I mean was, having my husband’s child. I was okay with it. I, myself, cannot bear children, so part of me was happy to see my husband’s most desired wish come true.”
Detective Boucher nodded, not giving off any other signals as to whether he believed me or not.
“Do you and your husband plan to separate?”
“It’s up in the air at this point, if you must know.”
“So, let me get this straight,” he begins. “Your husband cheats on you, impregnates his mistress who is then murdered, and you two might stay together after all?”
“Life isn’t always black and white, Detective.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” he admitted, putting his notepad away.
“Well, is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”
“No, I think we covered everything. But, if I were you, I wouldn’t be leaving town anytime soon.”