Dean's List

by Stacy Claflin

  Her stomach twisted in tight knots, making her feel sick. She was probably better off just leaving, but what she needed was to start stashing cash—or was there time for it? He was supposed to be back sometime this week, but then he probably would be gone all month after that.

  Why hadn't she been collecting money since long ago? Starting when their marriage began to sour. That should have been her clue to do something to take care of herself. But at first, she had convinced herself that things could be saved. Then she was so upset to realize they probably wouldn't… and then she thought she and Chad would end up together. Not only would he be able to take care of her financially, but she'd have been able to work if she wanted.

  Chad had always said that if that was what she wanted, she should go for it. He even encouraged her to go after her dreams while she was still with Dean. She obviously had done that, but she'd had all funds sent to her family since they needed it so badly, and also, she hadn't wanted Dean questioning where the extra money came from.

  She felt more trapped than ever. Why had she stayed with him? Just so she could have nice things? It had made sense at the time, but now it seemed like the stupidest decision anyone could make.

  If the news clippings were any indicator of when he started his spree, Lydia could have easily left long before then. Or would she have been his first victim? She shuddered at the thought, and then pulled up the blankets to her neck despite the house already being warm. The AC would kick on later, after it really warmed up.

  The worst part was having no one to tell. She had to tell someone. Whether it was Chad, Bri, or her brother, she couldn't keep doing this on her own. Chad or her brother would probably be the best choices, because they would both be able to keep a level head. Bri was a great friend, but Lydia just didn't think she could handle something like that.

  What about Cara or Savannah? Not Cara. She was hormonal and emotional as it was, and Lydia couldn't shake the feeling that she was angry at her for something. Savannah was easily the toughest of the bunch, though Lydia was a close second.

  So, it was between her brother, Chad, and Savannah. Lydia would think about it as she got ready. She climbed into the shower and let the hot water massage her as she tried to forget her troubles for a while. She stayed in until the water went cold, and then she got ready for the day.

  Once out of the shower and dressed, Lydia felt like a caged animal in the house. Who knew what Dean was doing right then? Could he be killing some poor girl at that very moment? If so, that was on her—at least in part. She was keeping quiet when she needed to tell someone. The cops, in particular.

  She took a deep breath. There were reasons she couldn't go to them yet. They'd laugh her out of the station based on what she had, and then Dean would probably find out… and that could not happen.

  Lydia put on some mascara and lipstick and went for a drive. It felt good to be out of the house, but she was too on edge to keep sitting. She found a high school with a nice-looking track to walk around.

  The night air was nice and the quiet helped her to think as she walked around and around. After a while, she was aware of someone else going around the track. She paid enough attention to him to be safe, but not enough to look at him. She had to figure everything out.

  "Lydia?"

  Her heart stopped and she turned to look at the man. He wore tight-fitting exercise pants, bright tennis shoes, and a hoodie with a horse on it. She stared at his face, trying to figure out where she'd seen him before.

  "Toby. We met at my sister's HOA meeting."

  Lydia stopped walking and tried to remember. Then in her mind, she saw a cowboy hat covering much of his face. "Dakota's brother. You have the horse."

  "Flash, my prize-winning beauty."

  "Right. How's life on the farm?"

  "Ranch." Toby grabbed a shoe and stretched his leg.

  "You don't look much like a rancher," Lydia said.

  "I don't always wear a cowboy hat. It's not very practical most of the time, but I do enjoy wearing one when I can."

  Lydia smiled. "I'm not usually a fan of them, but you made it work."

  He grinned. "I bet you'd look good in one. You could always come over to the ranch sometime and check out my horses."

  She relaxed and looked him over. Horses weren't the only thing she was interested in checking out. "That sounds like fun," she said, pulling out her phone. "What's your number?"

  He told her and then she put it in her phone and then called his cell. Toby pulled it out and looked at it.

  Lydia held up her phone. "Now you have my number, too."

  "Perfect. It was great running into you, Lydia. I've got to get back and feed the horses. But we'll be in touch soon. Okay?"

  "I'd like that. Bye, Toby."

  He ran off, waving, and then Lydia went back to her car. She thought about Toby the whole way back home.

  When she got into her bedroom, Lydia noticed the light blinking on her phone. Her heart sank. Who could that be? She walked over to the bed and checked. She had a text from her boss wanting to know when her column would be ready. She threw the phone down. Had she missed her deadline already?

  If she was going to leave Dean, she really couldn't afford to screw that up. She would have to prove that she could handle it, and more. She needed what little it provided, and probably an additional column. Maybe more than that. If she stayed with her family, she could save up then.

  Oh, there was just too much to think about. Her life was falling to pieces right before her eyes. When had everything gotten so complicated? And when would it all go back to what it used to be? And what life, exactly, did she want back? When she was happy with her serial-killer husband? When she was happy with someone else's husband?

  She picked up the phone and texted her boss that it was coming soon. Lydia looked at the time. She could probably get something ready and send it within the hour. It wouldn't be her best work, but it would do.

  Encounter

  Lydia closed her laptop and looked at the time. It had taken her less than an hour to read the questions, write out the responses, and run them through a quick editing program. At least the questions had been easy enough to answer. They were so basic, part of her wanted to reach out through the computer and slap the askers.

  They should be glad their problems were so easily solved. One girl wrote that she thought her boyfriend was seeing her best friend. Walk away from them both, stupid! But of course, Lydia hadn't said that. She—no Layla—had told her make sure she was certain before confronting them. Then she told her in the nicest way possible to get new friends.

  Another girl was in love with her college professor. That was an easy one to answer. It had to do with putting his job on the line, so Lydia had to give a good moral answer. If you really care about him, don't put him in a situation that would probably get him fired.

  Where was the advice column for wives of serial killers? Lydia froze. Everything was online. There had to be some kind of group. She could create another fake online person, or even use the same one. Ashley would work, and it was already set up.

  But if she was going to do that, she needed to take the new laptop somewhere out of town again. First, she would grab some breakfast, and then head for a new coffee shop.

  If she could find others who had been through the same thing, they could offer clarity that she lacked. Lydia knew that acting from a place of fear wasn't in her best interest. She would make poor decisions. When people were scared, they never thought things through, and it was nearly impossible to see a situation for what it was.

  Lydia couldn't afford to make mistakes. One wrong move, and Dean could find out that she knew his secret. He would have no problem killing her. It would probably just be another day for him, except that he wouldn't be able to just walk away like with the others. There was no evidence linking him to them, except that he'd been in the same areas for work at the same time.

  Without any real detective work, she wouldn't find any proof o
f him having spent time with any of the victims. Talking with Angie had proven that. Dean probably swooped in, wooed them into dates, and then went in for the kill—in the most literal way possible.

  Even if he had left some trace or trail, he had surely cleaned it up. From what she'd read in all the clippings, the police had nothing to go on, and they all thought the killings were random. Even if they were to compare them all, they wouldn't think it was the same person. Dean had done away with each one differently.

  Unless it really wasn't him. Could he be hiding the clues for someone else? Covering the tracks for a friend or colleague? Maybe there was someone who traveled with him that he hadn't mentioned. It wasn't like he ever told Lydia any details about his work life. Or what if he was trying to solve these cases himself?

  Was she trying to protect him or trying to convince herself that she hadn't been stupid enough to marry a psychopath? Wouldn't she have seen the signs?

  She really needed to find an online group and figure out how to get to the bottom of this. She was going to go crazy if she didn't. If only she could ask Dean about the clippings…but she couldn't accuse someone of murder without more proof than that, and it wasn't like she could travel around the country, chasing down relatives of the deceased.

  Not only would she likely end up as empty-handed as the day before, but she couldn't get away with traveling to the other locations without Dean knowing. That's why she had to get to a nearby town and find out what she could online. It was time to get aggressive friending anyone who had anything to do with anyone in the clippings.

  After eating, she got a text from Bri. Still on for the mall this morning?

  Lydia groaned. She had completely forgotten about their plans. Maybe she could swing by for a little bit. She definitely need to relax. Lydia started writing a response when she heard the garage door.

  Dean was back already? She hadn't even had a chance to look into the credit card issues yet.

  She deleted her text and sent Bri a message saying Dean just got home.

  So are you joining us?

  Her heart pounded. It would be the perfect excuse to get away. The last thing she needed was for him to realize that anything was wrong and start asking questions. Usually, she could lie about anything like a pro. It had started when she would sneak out of the house in high school, and she had been so good at it that she practiced the art as often as possible for years. But she was so shaken by Dean's clippings, Lydia wasn't sure she could keep her cool.

  Well?

  Lydia heard Dean's car door slam shut.

  I don't know. I need to talk to him first.

  Don't ditch us again. A little, animated pouty face followed the words.

  I'll try not to, but I should talk to him since he's home.

  Yeah, I know. Let me know when you're on your way.

  Sure.

  If you're not here soon, I'll assume you got lucky. Two animated faces kissed each other.

  Lydia shook her head. You do that. She slid the phone into her pocket as the door to the garage opened, and she heard Dean's footsteps headed her way.

  "Morning," he said.

  She nodded. "Rough flight?"

  "Something like that. I barely slept."

  He looked so tired and stressed, the part of her that still loved him couldn't help feeling bad for him. Lydia knew she should ignore it, but after reconnecting with him, that side of her had been awakened. "Do you need anything? I can fry up some bacon. I think we have enough eggs for omelets. I know how much you love those."

  Dean ran his hands through his hair. "You'd do that?"

  "You look like you could use some nourishment."

  "That would be great. I smell like the plane. Let me shower while you get that ready."

  She'd used all the hot water. He would be pissed. "Do you want anything special in your eggs?"

  "Surprise me." He headed for the stairs.

  Lydia pulled out her phone and sent Bri a text saying she was going to have breakfast with Dean.

  Bri sent back a string of animated kissing faces.

  By the time Dean came downstairs, Lydia had the table set and the food ready. Dean sat at his regular spot, and Lydia set a plate in front of him. Instead of sitting in her normal spot, she sat next to him on his left.

  "This smells delicious. Are those onions?"

  Lydia nodded, hoping he still liked those.

  "Mmm. My favorite." Dean leaned over and kissed her. He smelled of her favorite aftershave. Lydia's heart skipped a beat. He still had that?

  She rubbed his smooth face, taking in more of the scent. "You smell so good."

  He smiled at her, his eyes still looking tired. The lines around them appeared deeper than usual. Not that she had paid much attention to them in recent years.

  "Thanks for making the food." He kissed her again, and then dug in. He placed his left hand on her knee and squeezed.

  Lydia's eyes widened, still not used to his renewed interest in her. She relaxed, and then ate her small omelet. She'd already had some cereal before he'd arrived. As she ate, she couldn't take her mind off his hand resting on her knee.

  She watched him as he ate. His focus was on the meal, so he didn't even notice her looking his way. She studied his face, finding that he looked not only tired, but stressed as well.

  When he had emptied the plate, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, and looked over at her. "Those are even better than I remember. I don't know what I did to deserve your recent cooking, but I'm glad I did it." He smiled, and then squeezed her knee again.

  Lydia shrugged. "You just seemed stressed. I should let you get some sleep."

  His hand inched up her leg. "Or you could join me."

  She stared into his eyes, her pulse racing. Instead of seeing the man she had hated for so long, she saw the man she had fallen in love with—the one who had once cared deeply for her. Lydia nodded, unable to find her voice.

  Dean took her hand and led her up to their room. He looked at her. "You forgot to make the bed."

  "I didn't mean to. My—"

  "It's perfect, Lyds." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

  Conflicted

  Lydia watched Dean sleep. He didn't snore like usual. Butterflies danced in her stomach thinking about possibly having her marriage return to what it had once been. Could things really be in the process of turning around?

  Guilt tugged at her for snooping behind his back. Maybe she just needed to trust him. He'd never given her or anyone else a reason to think he was killing anyone.

  But what if he was killing people? She was the only one who suspected anything, and if she could do anything to prevent it from happening again, she needed to. There was no way she could live with herself if she didn't.

  "Dean, what are you hiding from me?" she whispered.

  He stirred and she jumped, but he didn't wake.

  "Won't you tell me your secret?" she asked.

  Dean's eyes fluttered open. Lydia's heart jumped into her throat.

  He grabbed her hand. "Don't let me keep you from your plans for the day," he said, his voice groggy. "I just need some sleep." He kissed her palm, the softness of the touch tickling her skin.

  "Sweet dreams." She leaned over and kissed his forehead. His eyes closed, and almost immediately, his breathing deepened. She got out of bed and slid her clothes back on. One look in the mirror told her that her hair was a disaster. She didn't have time for another shower, so she just twisted it into a bun and tied it up.

  When she got downstairs, she cleaned the kitchen. It was a mess not only from breakfast, but the night before with the girls. She threw all the dishes in the washer and gave the counters and table a quick wipe. That would have to do.

  Lydia grabbed her purse and then went to her car. She opened the garage door and then turned the key in the ignition. Tears welled up in her eyes. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  It had been so long since Dean had paid her any attention, and sh
e had to find the clippings now, of all times? If only she knew who to talk to. The more she thought about it, the less convinced she was that anyone in her life would make a good confidant.

  Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket sure it was Bri again.

  Should we expect you or not? We're trying to decide whether to stay or hit a movie.

  I'm on my way.

  Yay. We'll stay.

  Lydia took a deep breath, and then checked her makeup. Her tears hadn't ruined it, at least. She backed up, and headed for the mall. It was close to lunch time, and the parking lot was pretty full. She was going to have to park near the back.

  Lydia checked the trunk, making sure her laptop was still hidden. She couldn't take any risks that anyone would see it if she had to open the trunk. Once she was sure it just looked like a normal trunk, she made the trek to the entrance. It took her a minute to spot her friends—they stood by the fountain where they usually met. It looked like only Bri and Savannah had made it. Cara had been so moody lately, it was somewhat of a relief to not have to deal with her.

  While she was still a ways away, Bri and Savannah waved to her. Lydia waved back and picked up her speed, darting around kids running around, chasing each other.

  "Did someone have a good morning?" asked Savannah in a sing-song voice.

  "So, Dean's finally figured out what a good thing he has," Bri said. "Maybe we can all hang out again. It was fun when we hung out with the guys, too."

  "I've always said not to let me stop you."

  "We haven't," Savannah said, "but it would be a lot more fun to have you and Dean join us."

  "Where's Cara?" Lydia asked.

  "I haven't heard from her in a couple days," Bri said. "She's not answering calls or texts."

  "You think she has post-partum depression?" asked Lydia.

  "That's after the baby's born," Bri said, rolling her eyes.

  Lydia narrowed her eyes. "And how would I know that?"

  "Even I knew that," Savannah said, "and I don't have kids, either."

  "Maybe we should stop by the house and drag her out," Lydia said. "From what she said before, Ethan finds her gross. She might just need an intervention."