If You Must Know

by Beck, Jamie

  “Lyle!” Ebba cried. “I don’t want to go to jail. Tell me the truth.”

  “Seriously, lady?” I laughed in her face. “You got involved with a married man—one with a pregnant wife—and you still want to trust him over me?”

  “Shut up!” she shouted, then spun and pounded on his chest. He grabbed her wrists, but she screamed, “Just give her the damn title, Lyle. I’m not going to jail for you.”

  “Ebba, calm the fuck down. Don’t let her get in your head. Focus on the life we want. The one we’ll have as soon as we sail away. We’ll be safe in Venezuela.”

  “Oh my God, you’re guilty.” Ebba grabbed her head, visibly shaking. “I thought we’d planned an incredible life, investing in international properties, not one looking over our shoulder. How could you be so stupid?”

  “‘Stupid’?” His stricken face revealed a crack in that fragile, narcissistic ego. “I did this for us. For the adventure we wanted.”

  “I thought we had a legitimate plan . . .” She started tugging at her hair, turning in small circles, talking to herself.

  “Relax,” he said.

  “No! I’m not sailing into a storm, and I’m not going to jail. This is over. Give up the boat, Lyle, so you don’t end up in jail, too.”

  “You’re serious?” The color rose in his cheeks.

  My bearing witness to the implosion of his plans had to kill him, so I stood there grinning like a kid with a bag of popcorn.

  “Hell yes, I’m serious. I’m not a criminal!” she shrieked.

  “Lower your goddamned voice, Ebba, before everyone knows our business.” His expression tightened as he punched the wood paneling of the door. “Fuck.”

  I remained silent and still while he thought. He’d be going to jail. The only question now was whether I’d get that title before the agents came aboard.

  He narrowed his gaze at me. “How do I know you won’t turn me in after you get what you want?”

  I deflected by pulling a thumb drive out of my pocket. “Will it make you feel better if I give you the evidence?”

  He snatched it from me. “Ebba, get the laptop to see if she’s bluffing.”

  “I don’t care if she has a little or a lot of evidence. I didn’t sign up for this. If you want to sail on, you’re on your own. I’m going to pack my shit.” She turned on her heel and stormed into the main cabin.

  With her gone, the air around me energized like a gathering storm. Lyle shot me a death stare. “Back off, Erin, or I’ll make your sister’s life a living hell.”

  “You already did, asshole.” I focused so my voice wouldn’t quaver with rage.

  “Walk away or I’ll assert my parental rights.”

  That stopped me. The only thing that mattered more than vengeance and getting my mom’s money back was my niece.

  His smile broadened. My poker face must’ve slipped.

  Ebba reappeared, saving me from the lack of a ready comeback. She handed me a paper. “Here. Take the title.”

  “Ebba!” Lyle reached for it, but she pushed at his chest.

  “I’m saving you from yourself, Lyle. Let the boat go. We don’t need it. We’re amazing brokers, and there’s rebuilding happening everywhere in the Caribbean. We can work that to our advantage and then get a boat next year. We’ll live in the islands without being fugitives. Sign it or I’m gone.”

  The wee bit of conscience hidden under all that hair surprised me. On second thought, it wasn’t a conscience. More like a CYA move. I mean, how many scruples did I honestly expect a mistress to have?

  Lyle’s strangled expression made me smile. I scanned the title quickly, verifying the Somniator Partners name, then interrupted the stare-down between him and Ebba. “I need a signature to make this official. Let’s go to the marina offices and get a notary or whatever while your girlfriend packs your bags. I can recommend a decent hotel in San Juan.” I winked because it felt damn good to be this close to getting everything I needed.

  Lyle turned on Ebba. “What the hell have you done?”

  She raised her chin. “You lied to me about everything, so be thankful I’m willing to let you earn back my trust.”

  “We were free—no ex-wife or kid, no strings. Going where we wanted, when we wanted.”

  “I’m no saint, but I’m no thief, either. Fix this and maybe we still can move forward together.”

  The moment begged for a mocking slow clap, but I wouldn’t antagonize him when Ebba was doing the heavy lifting for me.

  He turned his back on both of us, scrubbing his hands over his face so hard I thought he might actually hurt himself. “‘Maybe’? Well, maybe I’ll take my chances on my own, then, ’cause it doesn’t sound like I’ve got much to lose at this point.”

  “Are you saying your freedom and I aren’t worth anything?” Her affected pout suggested she would forgive him but would also use this incident to reset the power balance between them for a while. He let out a frustrated growl.

  “I’ll pack our things.” She patted his chest, then turned to me. “Be sure to tell your sister that Lyle is willing to do the right thing for me.”

  He grunted. If she weren’t the bitch who stole my sister’s husband, I might warn her about the many ways she’d pay for forcing his hand. I could already see the wheels turning and suspected Ebba and her family would end up his next victims if he weren’t about to be arrested.

  “Move it,” he said to me.

  We disembarked and headed toward the shore. Agent Reyes watched us from the restaurant. I hoped he and Jones had heard everything and would stand down until I got the document signed.

  Ten minutes and some fees and taxes later, I was holding a freshly signed boat title made out to my mother in exchange for her forgiveness of the loan.

  “Thank you.” I shook the dockmaster’s hand. “Can’t wait to go explore my new boat.”

  Lyle closed his eyes, jaw clenched, color feverish. We exited the office and started back for the boat.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “You don’t think I’m dumb enough to leave you on that boat, do you? I’m seeing this through to the bitter end.”

  “Suit yourself.” Lyle stalked off, staying a few steps ahead of me. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the agents were following us now, which they were, from a distance. When Lyle and I reached the yacht, we climbed aboard to find three large suitcases and two cardboard boxes of personal items already on the deck.

  Lyle called, “Ebba?”

  “Coming.” She appeared with a fourth large suitcase in tow. “This is everything that matters.”

  Clearly, one benefit of boat dwelling is that you don’t need many clothes or other things.

  “Lovely doing business with you both.” The agents were only one boat away now. “Good luck to you. You’re gonna need it.”

  Lyle noticed the men rushing the boat. By the time his confused gaze snapped to mine, I’d pulled out my phone to snap his picture. “Oh, that’s a keeper. Might have to blow it up for when I need a good laugh.”

  Agent Reyes asked, “Lyle Foster?”

  “Who wants to know?” Lyle scowled.

  “I’m Agent Reyes of the FBI, and you’re under arrest.”

  Ebba’s eyes widened as she sank onto an empty chair.

  Lyle growled at me, “We made a deal, Erin.”

  I could’ve burst into a little dance right there but didn’t want to annoy the officers. Instead, I shrugged. “Oops. Guess you’re not the only one who can lie. Sucks to trust the wrong person, doesn’t it? I’ll let these gentlemen handle it from here. Think I’ll check out my accommodations for the night.” I handed Reyes the recording device, gave a little wave to Lyle and Ebba, and brushed past everyone while the officers read them both their rights.

  I did it! The adrenaline rush made my hands shake while I grasped the title. My dad would be proud. Smiling through relieved tears, I texted Amanda the picture of Lyle with a note that read Woot! Print this with a note, an
d drop it in the memory jar for me.

  Hot damn, this would be an absolutely perfect afternoon—if only it hadn’t cost me a chance with Eli.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  AMANDA

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come for moral support?” Erin helped me wrestle my way into a maternity maxidress with short sleeves that complied with the strict dress code requirements of the Chesapeake Detention Facility in Baltimore. No exposed shoulders, knees, backs, or bellies. I hadn’t paid this much attention to my appearance since my wedding day—a day I couldn’t think about without bitterness. “He’s going to be pissed as hell and probably try to strike back at you. I think you need backup.”

  Lyle would be enraged after he got over his shell shock that I’d willingly faced public humiliation in order to bring him down. It hadn’t been easy. News of his arrest had hit our local paper when he landed in Baltimore in handcuffs five days ago. Suddenly all the lookie-loos who typically ignored me were “checking in” to see if I needed anything.

  When I’d wished to be on friendlier terms with women like Barb and Sandy, I hadn’t wanted to field comments like “Oh, you poor thing. It must be awful—aw-ful—to have to deal with this when you’re about to give birth.” Worse was imagining the things they said behind my back. But Erin had been right. The satisfaction of having done right kept me from shriveling into a ball.

  Mom couldn’t stand her “well-intentioned” neighbors, so she’d fled town for a while—to Aunt Dodo’s, of all places. I supposed, when the chips were down, your best refuge was family. A sister. Mine had been by my side nonstop since returning from Puerto Rico.

  “No, thanks. I need to do this by myself, for myself.” I toyed with my hair. Lyle hadn’t seen my new hairstyle. I wanted to look fantastic to make him eat his heart out, so I fluffed its layers. I knew it to be silly and vain—hardly something that would undo how much of a fool he’d made of me—but it was better than nothing.

  Then again, his new home—the former supermax prison that now functioned as a pretrial detainment center for federal criminals—probably preoccupied him with bigger concerns than my appearance. Frankly, I was surprised he’d approved my visitation application.

  “Are you nervous?” Erin flicked her wrists.

  “What do you think? Willa’s future depends on me convincing him to give up custodial rights.” I’d hardly slept from practicing my speech over and over. Even now, my pulse kicked an extra beat while thinking about it.

  “I’m sure his lawyer told him that being cooperative will help with his plea bargain.”

  Kevin had also offered to meet me, but today wasn’t only about legalities. I needed personal closure.

  “That doesn’t mean Lyle will do the right thing or be mature about this.” I closed my eyes momentarily. “We loved each other—or I loved him—for a long time. I need to make peace so I can move on.”

  Erin’s expression told me that peace was the last thing she wanted. Emotional catharsis and resolution didn’t mean much to her. But trading insults with Lyle wouldn’t bring me to a place where I could be a happy mother, and that was now my number-one goal.

  “If I were you, I’d be dancing the jig at what’s happening to him.”

  “I’m not made that way.” I wouldn’t waste my breath with too much explanation. “I’m proud of how we worked together to get justice, but take no joy in his suffering.” Ebba’s? Yeah, maybe a little.

  Erin thrust her arms upward, head shaking. “He hurt you so much—how can you not rejoice in seeing him get what he deserves?”

  I stared at her, uncertain I would ever be capable of putting my feelings into words. “I stood before God and swore to love him, for better or worse. Many nights I lay in his arms, feeling the happiest and most loved I’ve ever felt.” I rubbed my stomach. “Together we created this amazing little life that I’ll cherish until my last breath. So while I hope this experience keeps him from hurting others down the road, it’ll be hard to see him in a jumpsuit, surrounded by guards and razor wire and inmates. To know that, at some point, when he gets out, he’ll be a harder, changed version of the man who had, for a few years, been my world . . .”

  “If he doesn’t have custody, who cares?”

  “Willa will. She might want to know him someday, and while I’ll protect her for as long as I can, I can’t protect her forever. On paper it seems black-and-white, but I keep telling you reality is complicated and unpredictable. What if Lyle spends his prison time constructing some elaborate revenge plot?” I let loose a long breath. “There’s a lot running through my mind, and in order to feel good—to feel like the future won’t become an ongoing battle—I need to make peace. I need to forgive him so I can be free.”

  Erin shrugged as if pacified, although I doubted I’d persuaded her. “What if I wait in the car? I don’t think you should be alone after you see him.”

  “I love that you want to be there, but I’ll be okay. This is the first real test of the promise I made Willa to become the strongest woman I can.”

  “Well, she’s in luck because we both know you ace every test you set your mind to.” Erin hugged me, prompting a round of happy tears for a change.

  “Thank you.” I grinned, swiping my eyes. “It’s nice to know you’ve got my back.”

  Erin’s expression slipped for a second. Feelings had never been her forte. “I talked to Mom this morning.”

  I stiffened. “How is she?”

  “Okay, I guess. She’s been leaning in to the part about the ‘loan documents’ so Dodo doesn’t think she was too gullible.” Erin rolled her eyes. “I reminded her about the family brunch on Saturday for the anniversary of Dad’s death. The reading of the memory jar will be done with or without her.”

  “Is she coming home?”

  “She won’t blow that off.”

  I wasn’t as sure as my sister. “I don’t blame her, you know. It’s not easy to have people look at you differently and to know you’re the butt of their jokes.”

  “Ignore them. All that matters is that we have each other and soon Willa, too.”

  “What about Eli? You’ve been dodging my questions about him since getting back from Puerto Rico.”

  Erin turned away, fiddling with the brush I’d set on the dresser. “Because that’s not important right now.”

  “It is to me.” I stared until she glanced at me.

  “Fine.” She grimaced. “He dumped me. I mean, if you can dump a friend . . . that’s what he did.”

  “What?” I’d been so self-absorbed I’d let days pass without realizing the truth. “Why?”

  “The ‘danger’ factor of my mission brought up his fears about losing someone. Apparently his late wife and I share a headstrong personality type he can’t handle now.” Whatever Erin’s true feelings about that, she hid them behind an “oh well” expression.

  I pressed my hand to my chest. “Helping me cost you Eli?”

  “No, Amanda.” She shook her head firmly. “Eli cost me Eli. I can’t turn into a different person—a cautious one—just because he’s afraid. I’m sad, but mostly for him, because he’s making his life so small.”

  New tears threatened. My sister had made a huge sacrifice for me—such a testament to the change in our relationship, yet I felt awful. It was one thing for my husband to shatter my heart, but he’d also cost my sister a piece of hers. “Go convince Eli he’s wrong.”

  “I thought about it, but he needs to come to that conclusion on his own. Same goes for Mom and you and everyone else.” She handed me my purse. “If we carelessly disregard other people, we should change. But if we’re merely being true to ourselves, we shouldn’t. How others respond to pain or fear is their choice. If Mom moves out of town and Eli lives a lonely life, that’s on them, not us.”

  “It’s still hard not to feel responsible.” I bit my lip, aware that, in her own way, Erin had matured a lot these past few weeks. “I want to talk about this more, but I have to go. The traffic up to Balt
imore might be heavy, and I don’t want to miss my visiting-hour window.”

  My sister smiled at me and offered a final hug. “Good luck!”

  I’d need it.

  Razor-wire fencing, metal detectors, and the mild body search intimidated me, and I wasn’t even an inmate. The sound of heavy locks and buzzers and the bright lights and sterile, stark surroundings added to the bleakness, making me tremble.

  I couldn’t picture my fastidious husband amid other prisoners, eating sloppy food from a tray and living in a six-by-eight-foot cell. He’d taken his chances, but I’d put him here. He had to be terrified. Enough to possibly have some regrets about how he had treated me.

  Despite everything he’d done, my stomach burned at the thought of the danger he faced in prison. It would be easier on me if we wouldn’t always be connected through Willa. But he could choose to waltz in and out of her life, so I’d be stuck with him forever.

  Today we’d be separated by thick glass. The barrier made me sad for all the visitors denied physical contact with an inmate they still loved.

  I no longer loved Lyle. Sometimes my hatred for so much about him strangled me. He’d hurt my pride, weakened my belief in love, and in some ways cost me my mother’s affection. But I’d also tapped undiscovered strength, gained a sister I could lean on, and found enlightenment about my own insecurities.

  While waiting to see him, I wrestled with hyperventilation. He might lash out—as he’d done whenever I’d inadvertently crossed him. He might rage at me for involving his father. He might even twist everything to blame me for his fate.

  I was prepared for all that, but what if he dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness? What if he cried? What if I saw any glimpse of the man who’d made me fall in love with him?