Depth of Lies
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CHAPTER 38 April 15 KAT AND TORI STOOD IN the vast living room of Evelyn’s penthouse. It seemed to have more living space than Kat’s entire house. The vintage details were everywhere, the high ceilings, ornate moldings, and beautiful wood floors, but someone had obviously renovated and modernized it years ago with a more open concept, because the kitchen, which had to have been a tiny portion of the space a hundred years ago, was fully visible, filled with custom cabinets, stone counters, and top-of-the-line appliances. Every piece of furniture, every lamp, every vase, every painting was carefully placed, and there was not a single extraneous item to be found. No stacks of mail, no wastebasket, no tray of odd items by the door, nothing. It was a perfectly manicured, magazine-ready spread of two-hundred-year-old antiques. “Where do we start?” Kat asked. “Bedroom,” Tori said. “Everything personal is in a bedroom.” The entry had brought them into the main living, dining, and kitchen area,
CHAPTER 39 April 1 6:40 p.m. SHEA DROPPED HER PURSE AND drink on the vanity, washed her hands, and laughed out loud. She ran her damp fingers through her hair, smiling at her reflection, still shaking her head in disbelief. “Crazy,” she said. She and the girls had literally joked about this kind of scenario last November when they were here, about whether anyone would ever be tempted to have a tryst with some beautiful stranger if there was no chance of it affecting their lives. “Don’t you miss that feeling?” Tori had asked, sipping her wine. Dee chimed in, “You mean when your body lights up like a pinball machine?” Everyone laughed and agreed that only someone new could probably bring on that feeling, admitting that despite loving their husbands, the inevitable habits and rituals of being with the same person for twenty years left them all nostalgic for that “quiver.” It was Evelyn’s word, and they all chuckled and nodded. Of course they missed it. But everyone had joked about all the
CHAPTER 40 April 15 KAT WENT TO THE OTHER side of Evelyn’s bed. When she opened the drawer, her heart nearly stopped. She couldn’t take her eyes off the granite-colored steel, the shiny grip, sitting there on top of a tablet and several papers like a life-ending paperweight. Kat hated guns—even the sight of a gun made her feel a little sick. There was nothing illegal about owning one and nothing out of the ordinary in finding a gun in someone’s bedside table. Even Shea and Ryan owned a gun. But Kat had made Shea show her where it was kept, safely locked away, high on a shelf, before she could relax about their boys playing together in Shea’s house. Shea had thought Kat was being irrational, but some people feared spiders, others bats or snakes. Kat feared guns, as if they were just as alive and unpredictable. She had heard too many stories of children and accidental deaths, sudden violence. But Evelyn was a single woman. There were no children in this home. She was obviously incredibly
CHAPTER 41 April 15 KAT STOOD FROZEN INSIDE THE closet, waiting, listening. She looked down at her feet. That stupid cat, curled into a ball, relaxed in the little bed tucked into the corner. She had to get out of here. Keys dropped onto the glass table by the front door. Shoes with a small heel clacked against the wood floor. Wheels rolled beside them. She was coming this way. Suddenly the clacking stopped. She was in the room. On the carpet. Kat was shaking, fighting against the urge to cough. She needed air. The closet door swung open as Evelyn hit the light switch by the door frame. The light poured down on Kat, on the gun in her hands. Kat’s eyes filled with tears. Evelyn screamed and stepped back. “Kat! What are you doing? Did you break in?” She was acting indignant, as if she had the right. Kat stepped forward, her hands shaking, pointing the gun at Evelyn. “What did you do?” Evelyn was backing up, her hands up. She backed into the bed and fell to sitting. “Kat, please put that
CHAPTER 42 April 1 6:55 p.m. SHEA RETURNED TO THE BAR and plopped back onto the seat beside Ted. She suddenly felt like she weighed a thousand pounds. “I should go. You’re very cute and nice and sweet, but it doesn’t matter.” “To harmless flirtation,” he said, raising his glass. “The kind that never leads to trouble, but can provide fond memories and will certainly help me sleep tonight.” Shea laughed and took a final swig of her vodka. Ted put his elbow on the bar and rested his face in his hand, smiling sheepishly at her. “Since we’re being good, why don’t we talk about whether we’ve ever been bad. I’ll go first. Yes, I have, but you would have been different. I’m sure of it.” “Mmm-hmm . . . thought you said you’d never cheated on your wife?” He smirked, like a kid who’d been caught stealing candy, a petty offense. “I lied.” “Of course.” “What about you? Have you ever cheated?” Shea considered it. She didn’t think so, but did Blake count? Did it matter what she believed at the time?
CHAPTER 43 April 15 KAT’S FOCUS SHIFTED TO THE door for a moment. Maybe it was Tori. Evelyn moved closer. “Sit!” she yelled, pointing the gun at her face. “Evelyn!” It was Ryan. He sounded angry. “In here,” Evelyn yelled, backing away from Kat, returning to the bed, her expression shifting, like help had arrived. Kat didn’t know what to do. She heard him coming toward the room. Ryan walked in, and Kat waved the gun at him. “Kat, what are you doing?” he said, staring at her, the gun, Evelyn. He hadn’t shaved. He was wearing sweatpants. He looked like he hadn’t slept since she saw him the day before. “What’s happening here?” Kat couldn’t stop crying. It was getting hard to breathe. “Don’t, Ryan. Please don’t lie to me anymore. I don’t know what the hell happened on that island, but I blame you both!” “Kit Kat,” he said, his hands up. “Stop. Please, put the gun down. You don’t know what you’re saying.” “You lied to me! My best friend is dead, and you two have been lying and sleeping toget
CHAPTER 44 April 1 7:20 p.m. SHEA WAS LYING ON THE bed with her eyes closed. The room was spinning. Mary’s voice was still in her head. You’ll feel better tomorrow. What a joke. She felt nauseous and sat up, each arm locked, hands against the mattress. The room was moving, the floor sloping at an angle as she tried to stand. How many drinks had she had? She felt like she’d been drugged. The pills, she thought. She’d done this to herself. She had to stop. She and Ryan were making a fresh start. She stumbled into the bathroom for some water. She stared at the mirror, examining her reflection. It wasn’t pretty. “Get yourself together,” she said. Her focus shifted to her shoulder, to a beautiful old claw-foot tub behind her, a pristine antique on display atop the black-and-white mosaic tile. She remembered her last bath. With Ryan. The bubbles and candles, the wine. There was still something really good between them. Still, after all these years, and everything that had gone wrong. She did
CHAPTER 45 April 15 KAT DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO believe or what to do. She’d gripped the gun so hard for so long, she was losing feeling in her arms. She felt dizzy, like she might collapse. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” she begged him. Ryan dropped his hands. He began to cry. “Because Shea died. I didn’t want everyone thinking the worst, making assumptions, gossip swirling about some stranger’s death, wondering if she’d committed suicide over it. I didn’t want that for Shea or the kids.” Kat didn’t know what to believe. “After Shea died, Evelyn came to me. She told me why Shea went to Put-in-Bay. But she lied to me, Kat. She told me that Shea had asked her to go with her, but that she’d refused.” They both looked over at Evelyn, who was sitting, frozen, her posture erect, her eyes glazed, staring at the wall, like she was in a trance. “Evelyn was in the room that night, Ryan,” Kat said. “Shea’s phone is in that drawer.” She pointed toward the bedside table. He looked at Evelyn and s
CHAPTER 46 April 1 7:30 p.m. SHEA STUMBLED TOWARD THE DOOR. “Hello?” She wasn’t going to open the door for Ted. She’d learned enough about putting herself in vulnerable positions. “It’s me,” she heard. “Open up.” Shea unbolted the lock and opened the door. Evelyn walked past her into the room, dropping her bag. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.” “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Shea could hear the anger in her voice. “What are you talking about? No. I don’t understand. You said—” “Yeah, I felt bad about leaving you, so I came back.” She walk
ed through the room and into the bathroom, looking around. “But then I saw you with that guy at Rudolph’s. I didn’t want to interrupt.” Shea sat on the bed. “Don’t be crazy. We were just passing the time.” “I saw you walking in here together, though.” “He’s staying here. What’s wrong with you?” Evelyn opened the closet door and looked inside. “So you’re alone?” She sounded like she didn’t believe it. She scoffed. “Are you crazy? Of
CHAPTER 47 April 15 KAT WAS EXHAUSTED, THE ENERGY draining from every inch of her body. It was difficult to breathe. She was getting light-headed. Ryan’s arms had collapsed, too. His head was down. Kat’s arms began to fall, her knees buckled. Suddenly Evelyn was lunging, then Ryan. They were coming toward Kat. It was a blur of movement. Hands in her field of vision. Hands on hers, fighting the gun loose. She lost her grip. Someone had it. “No!” she cried. It was a scream inside her head, but the sound barely escaped her constricted windpipe. Her eyes closed. She could hear them wrestling for the gun. “Baby, no, please,” she heard Evelyn say. “I love you. I just wanted it to be you and me.” The blast shot through the room, so loud, so close to Kat’s head, it felt like she might never hear another sound. She felt a body collapse beside her. Kat struggled to open her eyes. Ryan was in front of her. On his knees, his head on the carpet. She could hear him moaning. She moved her gaze, searc
CHAPTER 48 KAT SAT IN A COMFY CHAIR by the open window in Evelyn’s living room, sipping water, her eyes fixed on the dark grain of one oak plank on the floor in front of her. Tori had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and the white sheers blew in the breeze beside her. Her throat had relaxed and her eyelids felt lighter. She could open them fully. Paramedics were walking around. Police, too. Tori was sitting beside her, stroking her hand. Kat finally looked at her. “Better?” Kat nodded. “Goddamn SATs,” Tori said. “Look what I missed.” Kat smiled. “That cat.” She looked around the room, a little disoriented. She barely remembered Tori’s arrival. Just a vague recollection of Tori and Ryan getting her to the window, of Tori’s voice on the phone. There was an officer seated on Kat’s other side. “You doing okay?” Kat nodded. “Mr. Walker has given a statement, but I’d like to hear from you, too.” “Evelyn came at me. I heard them wrestle for the gun.” Kat looked at Ryan on the sofa, his
EPILOGUE One year later KAT AND MACK SAT IN the back of a taxi, holding hands. With legs crossed, she nervously tapped her heel against the floor. She checked her watch several times while the driver maneuvered through traffic. Even though she traveled nearly every week for work, flying into Chicago was never quick or painless. Mack finally put his hand on her knee and squeezed. “Breathe.” “We’re late,” she said. “No one will mind. We’ll just sit in the back.” She smiled, sighed, and put her hand on his. She removed her dark glasses as the driver turned off the expressway and began driving through the streets of Maple Park. Despite the sight of budding trees, blooming magnolias, and children playing T-ball in the park, everything about this journey was different from last time, except for the fact that Saint Andrew’s was, again, filled to capacity. They quietly found seats in the back pew as the minister began the service. When it ended, Mack squeezed her hand. “You okay?” “Yep.” She w
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS To my beautiful, spirited, hilarious, complicated, and generous girlfriends, thanks for your friendship, support, love, and inspiration. And a special shout-out to Heather Pflederer—thanks for introducing me, all those years ago, to Lake Erie’s treasured islands and for the years of girls’ getaways that inspired the what-if for this story. As always, a big thanks to all the Cains and Diskins for your love and support (and, in particular, to Jim, Jimmy, and Caroline, because you’re the ones who had to live with me during that intense month of edits last winter). Thanks to my early readers, Maury Cain, Cynthia Quam, Martha Whitehead, Julia Buckley, Maury Byrne, Tanya Cain, and my dear Jim Diskin. As usual, your feedback was enormously helpful. Thanks to Craig Genheimer at Ohio State University for your help and insights regarding the South Bass Light Station on South Bass Island, Ohio. And, of course, thanks to everyone at Inkwell, with special thanks to Liz Parker and Da
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Photo © 2017 Sandy Sameshima E. C. Diskin is the author of the bestselling novels The Green Line and Broken Grace. She lives outside Chicago with her family. Find out more about E. C. and her work at www.ecdiskin.com.
OTHER TITLES BY E. C. DISKIN
* * *
Broken Grace
The Green Line
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2017 by E. C. Diskin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542045735
ISBN-10: 1542045738
Cover design by Damon Freeman
In loving memory of a dear friend, taken too soon. Your spirit still makes me smile.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER 1
April 1
8:07 p.m.
SHEA’S MIND SWIRLED THROUGH UNCONSCIOUSNESS.
A woman’s voice rang in her head like a lullaby. You’ll feel better tomorrow.
But she was wrong.
A man’s face, so close to hers, his taste, his scent, the eyes that turned dark, hands that wouldn’t let go, fingers that dug into her arms.
What happened, what could have happened, pinballed through her brain, exploding into all the mistakes. The lies and half-truths. The damage done. She should have told Ryan.
The air felt cold, exposing her, chilling her. It carried her through dark woods until slowly, gently, she relaxed into a warm pool, a hot spring, its floor like quicksand, pulling her down . . . first to the shoulders, then the chin, cheeks, eyes, hair. Her whole body submerged.
She hesitated. Something inside wanted to hold on, but there was power in the force that held her under. She looked up at the moon above the water, the circle of light shrinking, dimming. Then it was gone. She was in too deep. Everything went black. She took a breath. Liquid filled her lungs, her life ending just as it began: alone and naked in a pool of water.
April 8
KAT TOOK A DEEP BREATH and removed her sunglasses as the taxi turned off the expressway onto the tree-lined streets of Maple Park. They passed Union Park, where uniformed little girls blissfully swung bats at a plastic tee and ran bases while parents sat in folding chairs along the sidelines with their coffees. None of those families realized how quickly it would all be over.
Kat took another deep breath, let her head fall back onto the seat rest, and blew the air up at the roof. It felt like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. She replaced her sunglasses to mask the redness of her eyes and returned her focus to the budding maples and blooming magnolias.
As the taxi neared Saint Andrew’s, it looked like the turnout for Easter. The church lot was full, and parked cars lined the streets in every direction.
Kat stepped inside just moments before the service began. Her shoes clacked loudly against the marble entry and echoed off the travertine walls, drawing attention from fellow mourners seated near the back. She took a program from the basket on the nearby table, stepped into the carpeted nave, and quietly found a seat, avoiding the eyes around her.
The minister stepped to the pulpit and recited a prayer while Kat gazed down at the program’s inside cover: a familiar but cropped photograph of Shea, looking tan and happy in a strapless sundress, an orange hibiscus flower in her wavy blonde hair. It was from last summer’s luau-themed farewell for Shea’s youngest child, Leigh, as she headed off to Michigan State. In the photo, Shea had a big, openmouthed, mid-laugh grin. The fuller picture, which sat in a frame on Kat’s mantel at home, included Kat and several other women from the neighborhood, numerous margarita glasses, and the glow of café lighting strung in the trees behind them.