by Moore, Lila
“Let’s go,” Mrs. Devereaux said.
Aiden’s eyes were big and round, taking in the scene before him. He was usually so talkative, but now he was dead quiet.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Just get in the car.”
Mrs. Devereaux shuffled her feet and looked around wildly. Aiden winced at the grip she held on his shoulder increased.
“Okay,” I said, not wanting to upset her further.
I grabbed Theo’s coat and put it on, then I stepped out of the house and walked past her. I went ice cold all over; my hands started to tremble. Mr. Devereaux’s sports car was sitting in my driveway. It was the same car he’d driven the night before. It was supposed to be in the woods near his dead body.
“Eye for an eye…” Mrs. Devereaux mumbled. “I never gave you enough credit. You’re ruthless.”
Her voice broke, not with tears, but rage. She knew that her husband was dead and that I was responsible. Theo. He must have betrayed me, I thought with a sickening lurch. He was working for her all along. I’d been right to suspect him. He was just another man who’d fallen under her spell. I wanted to vomit. It was then I felt the barrel of the gun dig into my back.
“Go,” she hissed.
I opened the passenger’s-side door and slid inside. A few short hours ago, I’d sat here beside Mr. Devereaux. The car still smelled of his cologne. I half expected to see him slide behind the wheel and make a sarcastic remark.
Mrs. Devereaux opened the driver’s-side door and pushed Aiden inside. He crawled over the seat to the back and put on his seatbelt.
“We’re not going far,” she barked at him, as if he’d done something wrong.
Aiden jumped and looked to me for help.
“It’s okay,” I said calmly, “just do as Mrs. Devereaux says.”
“That’s right,” she said a bit too forcefully.
Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun. Long strands of blonde hair hung wildly in her face and her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. I’d never seen her look so disheveled.
“Do you love your mother, Aiden?” she asked.
Aiden didn’t respond.
“I’m talking to you,” she yelled.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Answer her.”
“Yes,” Aiden replied.
“Did you love your father?”
Aiden hesitated before finally saying yes. Though it sounded more like a question that a statement. I’m not sure Aiden even remembered Tom. After everything I discovered about him, maybe that was a good thing.
“You look just like that son of a bitch. Same eyes, same dark hair.”
Aiden looked shaken. I never swore around him or spoke ill of his father.
Mrs. Devereaux rolled her eyes and started the ignition. She pulled out of the driveway going fast. She nearly hit the neighbor’s mailbox before throwing the car into Drive. We sped down the alley onto a side street. Instantly, I knew we were headed for the bridge. The overcast day kept most people out of the park, but I could see a few people further down the lake. Mrs. Devereaux pulled her car to a stop at the start of the bridge.
“Get out,” she ordered.
I got out slowly, as if drawing the moment out could somehow prevent the inevitable. I had a very bad feeling about this. Mrs. Devereaux’s eyes were glassy and her pupils were dilated. The spark of life had left her. I recognized the look. It was the same way I felt after Tom’s death.
“How did you know about…?” I started, but couldn’t bring myself to finish my sentence. I didn’t want to say it out loud, especially not in front of Aiden. Mrs. Devereaux seemed to understand that I was referring to her husband’s death.
“I was the one who told him to take you out there and get rid of you. He couldn’t even do that right. He was always weak. I mean, he let himself get killed by you. How pathetic can you get?” Mrs. Devereaux’s voice broke, this time with grief. “I never thought you’d figure it out, or that you’d get revenge.”
“It wasn’t revenge. He wanted me dead. I had to defend myself.”
I glanced at Aiden. He was listening with rapt attention.
“Sure,” she said with a laugh. “You know, when he didn’t come back I actually thought he’d chickened out and run off with one of his bimbos. I went out there to make sure he was getting the job done. I found his car and saw the blood. What did you do with his body?”
“Theo took care of it,” I said.
She looked startled. “He knows?”
I realized then that I’d just made two mistakes. First, Theo wasn’t helping Mrs. Devereaux. There was something in her reaction that made it clear. Two, I’d just put a target on his back. Now she would have to get rid of him too.
“Guess I underestimated you. That won’t happen again.”
She pointed at the bridge with her gun. It was broad daylight, people could see us, but she wasn’t even bothering to conceal the gun anymore.
“Go,” she ordered.
I pushed Aiden behind me then started the long walk to the midpoint of the bridge. When we reached it she closed her eyes and threw back her head. The wind blew through her hair, pulling it free of the messy bun on her head and tangling it into knots.
“I like to come to this spot,” she said.
“This is where you pushed him.”
Her eyes flew open; she snapped her head in my direction.
“Why did you push him?”
“I was trying to help him. He was making a mistake,” she replied.
“Tom wanted stop seeing you,” I guessed.
Her eyes lit up with rage. I’d guessed correctly.
“Men don’t leave you, do they? You’re the one who does the leaving.”
Mrs. Devereaux laughed with faux modesty, as if I’d flattered her.
“But he wasn’t going to stop there. He was going to take Bella with him. Did your husband know he wasn’t Bella’s father? Did he even care?” I asked.
Mrs. Devereaux looked out over the water.
“Tragic,” she said.
“What?”
“Your mental health… that’s what they’ll say. ‘I can’t believe she killed herself and her son. It must have been her husband’s death that broke her. You know they say she murdered Tom too.’ That’s going to be the town gossip. Fortunately for you, you won’t be around to hear it.”
“I don’t understand,” I said breathlessly.
Mrs. Devereaux motioned with her gun towards the edge. Aiden held onto me with a death grip. Mrs. Devereaux took a step closer; I stepped back. It was then I realized she was herding us closer to the edge of the bridge.
“You’re going to jump,” she said. “And you’re going to take that brat with you. It will look like the tragic suicide of a mentally disturbed woman.”
“You’re nuts. Look around you. There are people down by the lake having a picnic. They’ll identify you.”
Mrs. Devereaux squinted and looked across the lake. She shrugged.
“They’re far away. They won’t see or hear anything. Sound doesn’t carry very well up here. Trust me, I know.”
A scream of anguish echoed across the water. I ran to the side of the bridge and looked over, searching for the source of the sound. The water was calm; there was no one around.
“What is it?” Mrs. Devereaux asked. She was staring at me strangely.
“Momma?” Aiden said, as if he was worried about me.
It was then I realized that they hadn’t heard the scream. It was in my head. My eyes cut across the water frantically. I half expected to see Tom thrashing in the water, but all was calm.
“What?” Mrs. Devereaux repeated. She sounded extremely irritated.
Then I saw it.
Everything came back in a rush. The night Tom died I’d woken up in bed to find him gone. I’d smiled at the thought of him still in his art room, slaving away over his new painting.
I’d put on my shoes and gone to the back porch. Just as I opened the
door, I saw the back gate close. My first thought was that someone was trespassing. I ran to Tom’s art room, but it was dark and the door was locked. I pounded on the door, but it was clear he was gone.
I ran to the gate, opened it and peeked out into the alley. Barely visible in the moonlight, Tom was at the far end of the alley, headed towards the main road. I started to call out to him, but something stopped me. Where was he going? It was the middle of the night.
My instincts told me to keep my mouth shut. I tiptoed down the alley after him. Twice I lost sight of him. I felt foolish. I was in my nightgown; lightning and thunder lit up the horizon.
There was probably a logical explanation for his absence. Maybe Tom decided to take a walk to clear his mind? Or maybe he decided to walk to the twenty-four hour café and pick up some caffeine? The café was a long walk, though and Tom was headed in the opposite direction.
When I lost sight of him for the second time, I resolved to turn around and head back home. I’d ask Tom in the morning about where he was. A scream froze me in my tracks. The cry came from the lake. Without thinking, I took off running towards the water.
When I reached the edge of the road a few feet away from the bridge I stopped. I heard a second scream. This time, it didn’t sound anguished so much as full of rage.
Tom was on the bridge with a woman wearing a scarf. She threw her arms around wildly while screaming at him. Tom held a flashlight in his crossed arms. He wore a smirk on his face that made him look smug.
I stopped to watch, unsure of what to think. I couldn’t get a good look at the woman’s face. How did they know each other? Suddenly, she pushed him hard. He staggered back, bracing himself against the railing that ran along the bridge. Tom turned on her. My chest felt tight. I expected to see an outburst of violence. Instead, I heard laughter. It echoed faintly across the water. Tom found this funny. I never fought back when he attacked me. Apparently, he liked that this woman was aggressive.
I suddenly felt dizzy. I sat down on the ground. Tom was having an affair. It was the only thing that made sense.
Our marriage was over. This was the last straw. Anger replaced the bewilderment I felt. I would confront the both of them. I would tell Tom it was over. I stood with a sense of determination I haven’t felt since before I married Tom.
As I rose, our eyes met. Tom’s mouth fell open. He had the look of a man who’d been caught red-handed. There would be no denying his infidelity. I didn’t want to hear any excuses.
Our eyes locked. Anger passed over his face. Suddenly it turned to fear. He was falling backwards over the rail. The woman had pushed him hard. As he fell he tried to grab onto the railing, but she kicked his feet out from under him.
I watched with horror as he disappeared over the edge. There was a loud splash. I ran to the lake. The cold water soaked my house shoes. Should I go in after him? The water was freezing and I’m not a strong swimmer.
I stood at the water’s edge, listening and waiting. There was no sign of Tom. It was as if the lake had swallowed him whole. I don’t know how long I stood there. I heard a noise from above and saw the woman staring down at me. The wind caught her scarf, blowing it free. Her long blonde hair trailed through the air like snakes. Her eyes were wild with excitement. She was breathing hard. Mrs. Devereaux. I recognized her from around town.
When she caught sight of me, a look of fear passed over. She shot away from the railing, moving out of my field of vision. I continued to stand there like a deer trapped in the headlights. I was frozen with indecision.
The sound of a car broke the spell I was under. I crawled up the hill on hands and knees in time to see a sports car driving away. The bridge was empty. I went to the place where the woman stood and looked down. The calm surface started to crater with falling rain. I looked up. When had it started to rain?
I slid down to the ground and sat trembling in the freezing rain. Then a light was shining in my eyes. Jillian. I couldn’t speak, or think. I simply let her lead me away back to her cabin.
I opened my eyes. I was back on the bridge, gripping the railing. Aiden was pulling at my shirt saying, “Momma?” He sounded like a toddler.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said dreamily.
“I saw you,” I said, turning on Mrs. Devereaux. “After you pushed him over the edge, you lost your scarf. That’s what your husband was looking for the next day. You were afraid it would incriminate you.”
Mrs. Devereaux looked annoyed. “We’re not going to rehash it. Just jump.”
“No. You’re going to have to shoot me. Good luck explaining that to the police.”
She reached for Aiden. “Maybe I’ll shoot him first and say you did it. I’ll call the police myself.”
Her eyes darted around manically as she quickly formulated a new plan.
“I’ll tell them you called me out here to confront me and I found you with this gun. You killed your son, then yourself. I’ll tell them you told me they would blame me. You were trying to frame me all along. The cops will never doubt a thing. You were their prime suspect in Tom’s death. They never even looked at me. They’re already suspicious of you. They know you’re not right in the head. I’ll tell them you confessed to killing Tom in a fit of jealousy before killing your son and yourself.”
Mrs. Devereaux grabbed Aiden’s collar and tried to pry him off me. He clung to me and screamed. I pulled him back while also trying to grab for the gun. Silver flashed out of the corner of my eye.
Mrs. Devereaux screamed.
Suddenly, Jillian was there, swinging a baseball bat. She hit Mrs. Devereaux’s shoulder. She let go of Aiden.
“Run, Aiden!” I screamed. He hesitated as if he didn’t want to leave me. “Go! I’ll be right behind you.”
He took off running across the bridge towards Jillian’s cabin. Mrs. Devereaux turned the gun on Jillian, but she wasn’t fast enough. The old woman swung the bat again, hitting her arm with a sickening crunch.
Mrs. Devereaux managed to pull the trigger. Two shots were fired. One hit me in the shoulder. The force of the blow pushed me back. My fingers slid along the slippery metal railing. I tried to grab it but it was no use. I fell from the bridge, plunging into the water beneath.
26
The surface of the lake swallowed me. The water was freezing. I felt like I was being stabbed with tiny needles all over my body. I kicked for the surface, but didn’t get far. My limbs were numb and heavy.
In the wake of Tom’s death, I’d barely been able to find the energy to carry on. Now, after reliving that night, my desire to live was almost completely gone. Aiden flashed through my mind. Someone had to take care of him. Then I thought no, he’d be better off without me.
What about Theo? A distant voice asked.
I opened my eyes and saw Tom before me in the water. He smiled. I reached for him. He put out his hand. Just as our fingers were about to touch, he was pulled away violently. I watched as he disappeared into the dark, leaving me alone.
An arm wrapped around me. I fought against it, thinking that whatever had pulled Tom down had come to claim me. The arm was too strong though. The more I fought, the more its grip tightened.
I could feel that I was being dragged, not down, but to the surface. A part of me resented being rescued. Maybe it was best that I sink to the bottom with Tom. Another part of me felt hope. Someone thought I was worth saving.
We broke through the surface of the water. I didn’t take a breath. The air was shockingly cold. My chest felt as if it was being squeezed from the inside. I started to shake all over. We moved slowly through the water. My savior was having difficulty. I don’t know where he found the strength. The cold was crippling.
When we reached shallower water, he stood and wrapped an arm under my legs lifting me up. Theo. I wanted to thank him for saving me and apologize for doubting him. He was the only one who’d stood by me. But I couldn’t speak or breathe. The world was slowly starting to fade away.
“Sabine, stay with me,” h
e said.
He laid me down then turned me over on my side. He hit my back, trying to force me to cough up the water in my lungs.
“Breathe, sweetheart.”
My vision narrowed. I looked back towards the water expecting to see Tom standing on the bank of the lake. No one was there. Tom was gone for good. Relief came with that realization.
Theo flipped me over onto my back. Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, breathing life into me. A surge of energy exploded from inside me. I started to vomit lake water. Theo turned me onto my side. I took a deep breath, then another. I coughed and trembled.
“You’re safe now. It’s alright,” Theo said.
He scooped me up into his arms and started to run. Where was he taking me? Where was Aiden?
“Aiden…” I said between chattering teeth.
Theo kept running until we reached Jillian’s cabin. She was waiting at the backdoor. She still held the baseball bat.
Theo carried me inside and set me down by the fire. A hundred memories rushed back to me. I’d sat in this very spot dozens of times. Jillian wasn’t lying when she’d said she helped me countless times. She’d been trying to keep me alive since Tom’s death. I felt a rush of shame mixed with gratitude. If I’d been brave enough to face the situation earlier, maybe things would have gone differently.
Aiden appeared out of the dark. He fell into my lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. I ran my shaking fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. Theo sat down beside me and rubbed his hands together before the fire. He was shaking almost as badly as I was.
I stared at him searchingly. Where was Mrs. Devereaux? Had Jillian killed her? He shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at Jillian. She was pacing the room holding her baseball bat. I stopped shaking enough to speak.
“Are you okay?” I asked Aiden. He shook his head, yes. “Are you okay?” I asked Jillian.
She either didn’t hear me or was ignoring me. She continued to pace the room and mutter to herself.
Theo and I locked eyes. He stood and walked over to her. When he got within five feet of Jillian she tensed and gripped the bat like she meant to swing it if he came any closer. He held up his hands as if to say he meant no harm.