by E. C. Diskin
“No way,” Tori said, shaking her head. “I mean, if you’re going to start throwing out these theories, what about Ryan? He’s jobless. I mean, money alone can make people kill. Spouses kill for life insurance all the time. And if Shea did break up Dee’s marriage, maybe that wife swap became something more that he’s not talking about.”
Kat shook her head, not even considering it.
“Well, what about Evelyn? What about me? What about Lina over there?”
“Now you’re being crazy.”
“That’s how you sound. These are our friends, Kat. You think one of them killed Shea, and in some perfect way so that it looked accidental?”
“I know. It doesn’t make sense. And I would never say that to anyone else. But someone knows something. She had drinks with someone at Rudolph’s and walked out with him. He paid cash, so we can’t know who that was. It’s possible Shea had something to do with Blake’s death. What if someone drugged her?”
“And said, what, ‘Now, go home and take a bath’? Not much of a theory.” Tori chuckled.
It was absurd. But she wasn’t crazy.
CHAPTER 16
February 17
SHEA ROSE FROM A HEAVY sleep facing Ryan’s side of the bed, but fortunately, he was already up. She dragged herself into the bathroom and shut the door before brushing her teeth and getting a pill from the medicine cabinet. Thank God for those pills, the only reason she was finally sleeping at night. It had been four weeks of constant insomnia, spending at least three hours a night on the couch, binge-watching Netflix, before she’d finally sleep. And then her back began to hurt.
It wasn’t about addiction. But she knew enough not to tell Ryan about the pain or the pills, sure that he’d use it against her, somehow comparing his porn habit with the drugs, like she was some addict. She wasn’t an addict. She just needed some sleep. And she needed to get through her days without the pain.
Shea sat on the toilet, looking out her bathroom window at the snow covering Kat’s green-tiled roof. Everything had fallen apart since Kat left. Maybe it just felt that way because she’d hosted the dinner party from hell just days after saying their final good-byes. Since then, the hand-holding, the coffee offerings, certainly the sex had all stopped. And to make it worse, Ryan acted as if everything was normal, or at least the new normal. He didn’t even question Shea when she told him she’d canceled their hotel reservation in the city, that romantic gift she’d presented at Christmas. He didn’t care.
Every time she looked at him, she’d recall his shit-eating grin with Dee and Charlie that night, his willingness to run downstairs with her friend, and his complete indifference to her potential tryst with his friend! And he was losing weight, probably getting himself date ready. He didn’t love her. It was the only explanation that made sense. He said he did, but how could she trust anything he said anymore? He’d also said he was heading to work, for weeks, when he wasn’t.
She was so tired of his superiority and his secrets about money. It used to seem chivalrous. He felt duty bound to take care of his bride, and she’d loved it. But now, she realized he’d been treating her like a child.
The house had become so quiet. It was like a death, the life drained from the air. How bizarre that in just six months, everything had changed so radically. The energy was gone, her life of focusing on caring for her kids—clothing, feeding, driving, supporting, loving—was gone. The whole neighborhood felt quiet. Too quiet. It seemed like it was more than just cold weather that had caused a collective hibernation.
Georgia and Dee were both avoiding her, and Tori was busy with her youngest child, her charities, her vacations, her ridiculously easy life. Lina had real problems, fighting to stay alive. And Evelyn was nice, but they didn’t know each other that well. She had a big job and was trying to enjoy a fresh start. She didn’t need to hear about Shea’s marriage falling apart.
Every time Shea spotted the new owners coming and going from Kat’s house, it hurt a little. Not only that Kat and Mack were gone, but that life went on as usual. She wanted so much to invite Kat over, or go for a walk together, or sit in the yard like they used to, back when the kids were little. But Kat was traveling the world, going to all these places Shea had only read about. She’d moved on.
Shea would scan her Facebook feed, peering into her friends’ lives, seeing their happy faces, their busy schedules, their trips, their date nights. Everyone else was fine, and she was a walking cliché, an empty nester struggling with the start of whatever was to come, a mother who felt lost when her kids grew up, a wife whose husband had lost interest, content to live a lie. It was all such nonsense. There were people starving in the world, for Christ’s sake. And here she sat, in her big, beautiful home, wanting to run away, without any idea where to go.
When she finally went downstairs and poured some coffee, Ryan was at the table, engrossed in the sports page, chomping on an apple as if he had no worries.
“What are you up to today?” she asked. She dropped her phone on the table and took the seat beside him, focusing her attention on wrapping both hands around the hot mug.
“I’ve got a few meetings,” he said without looking up.
She had no response. Lies and evasive answers were Ryan’s MO. That was a nice side effect of her magic pills: it was just a little easier to let the tension in her neck roll right off. Like yoga without the yoga. Actually, I should probably do some yoga, she thought, trying to remember how long it had been since she’d shown up for a class.
Her phone pinged. The screen lit to display another text from Charlie. She ignored it and glanced at Ryan. He briefly looked at her phone before returning focus to the newspaper. Didn’t he see that the text was from Charlie? Didn’t he care?
Charlie’s texts had been coming in a slow and constant trickle since that dreaded night. Initially, they were odd, but harmless: What are you up to?, How’s it going?, Just checking in. Hope you’re having a good day. Her responses were curt but polite: nothing, fine, Thanks, you too. No chance of being misinterpreted, no interest in engaging in any real conversation. But then she got a private message through Facebook. Charlie said they should try again, that he’d talked to Dee and she was okay with it. He had a plan. Shea couldn’t believe what she was reading. It was as if she was the only one who didn’t understand the punch line of some elaborate joke. Why was Dee fine with this idea? Didn’t she care? Did she have a thing for Ryan?
Shea tried to remember Dee and Ryan’s body language when she’d descended the stairs that night. They were both standing—moving, actually, probably five feet apart. Had they simply pulled back when they heard her coming downstairs? Had those nervous laughs been faked? Maybe they didn’t want to upset her by admitting they were into it. Maybe Ryan and Dee had started something. Was that why Dee was avoiding her? She and Dee used to walk together at least once a week when the weather allowed, but ever since that night, Dee always had some nonsense excuse. And Charlie’s most recent message had suggested a rendezvous in Michigan, with Dee’s blessing. Shea hadn’t even responded.
That afternoon, Shea came home from the grocery as another snowfall began. Ryan was asleep on the couch in the living room with an old horror movie on television in the background. So, these were the meetings he had lined up. Ryan’s cell pinged, and the screen glowed. A text from Dee: We need to talk. Why did Dee want to talk to Ryan when she wouldn’t talk to Shea? What the hell was going on? What if they were sleeping together? Was this why he was losing weight? Was Dee the reason he seemed indifferent at the change between them? He’d said he was visiting his father in Detroit at least three times since that night in January. A father from whom Ryan had been estranged for years. He’d always said his dad was a small and insignificant presence in his childhood, that he’d drunk too much, that he’d never been around for Ryan as a boy. He hadn’t even been at their wedding. But ever since last September, Ryan had made regular visits to Detroit.
Jesus, she thought, what if none of that w
as true? She’d assumed Ryan was finally making peace with his dad, now that the man was dying. But when she’d volunteered to go with him a few times, he said he preferred the time alone. Was it all a lie? What if all those overnight trips were trysts? She wanted to throw that phone in his formerly fat face.
Maybe no matter what they’d once had, it had gotten stale. Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it was just human nature, after all these years with the same person, to want something different. And her friend had offered. She couldn’t believe Dee would betray her like that. It didn’t matter that Charlie had pulled the strings, that Dee seemed incapable of saying no to his ideas, ever.
But it suddenly all made sense.
She stomped up the stairs and grabbed a suitcase.
Maybe everything was a lie. Maybe she forgave Ryan’s affair the first time, not because of love. Maybe she just held on all these years because it was easier than starting over, easier than being alone or breaking up a family.
She left a note on the kitchen counter, explaining that she’d gone to her sister’s place in Grand Rapids for the weekend. She asked him not to call or text, said she needed some time to herself. She wrote, “I know you’ll understand.” He’d better understand. He had caused all of this.
It was more than two hours later when Shea reached the exit for Saint Joseph and released her death grip on the wheel. The snow had continued during the entire drive, and her heart had raced with every passing car. Once on the east side of the lake, the snow had exploded into giant lake-effect flakes.
Shea pulled up to the cottage on Lake Michigan and saw the SUV, blanketed in four inches of fresh powder, parked in the gravel driveway. She cut the engine and shook out her hands. Charlie was there, waiting for her. She pulled a pill from her bag, swallowing it down with the remains of her Diet Coke, and got out of the car.
CHAPTER 17
April 12
THAT EVENING, KAT WORKED AT her laptop at Lina’s dining room table, prepping for tomorrow’s meeting downtown. It had been a long day with Lina and Tori, but she’d been so glad to be there for her friend, so glad to have her friends. Her phone rang. A snapshot of Mack’s sleeping face filled the screen. Kat had snapped the photo years ago, in the early morning, to capture Mack’s huge smile, like he was enjoying the best day of his life. When he woke and she shared it, they both laughed because he’d had no recollection of what he’d been dreaming. Every time he called and she saw that sleeping grin, it made her smile.
“Hey,” she said as she picked up, holding her breath to see what kind of call it would be.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Kat exhaled. “Thanks. I am sorry, too.” She knew he was struggling. It was her job that had dragged him to a new town and then left him there alone most of the time. The move hadn’t been easy on anyone.
“I’m sorry I hung up on you the other day,” he said. “It’s just that I had decided to surprise you by jumping on a plane and spending the week in that hotel with you downtown and then, when you said you were at Lina’s, I got pissed.”
“I would have loved that, babe. I’d still love that.”
“No. You’ll be home in a couple of days. Let’s just plan to do something together.”
“You read my mind. I’m sorry that we’re apart so much. I know that no one plans for tragedies, but the timing of all this was pretty bad.”
“It’s okay. It’s good that you went. I probably should have gone, too.” He was saying all the right things. “How has it been, seeing everyone?”
She wanted to tell Mack more about what she’d learned from Ryan and Tori and these disturbing revelations about her friends. But she didn’t want to hear his likely response that she was creating problems. He might say that her concerns could ruin their friends’ lives, and certainly ruin their friendships if she shared some of the more outrageous theories with police, putting their relationships under some sort of spotlight. She knew all that. Besides, she and Mack were having a good talk. She didn’t want to spoil it. “They’re all okay.”
The doorbell rang. “Oh, hold on a second. Someone’s at the door.” Kat didn’t want the bell to wake up Lina, who’d gone to bed at seven.
She opened the door to find Dee smiling, holding a giant tin tray of food. “Hi,” Kat said, suddenly feeling awkward and guilty about all the gossip she’d just learned, and shared, regarding Dee in the last twenty-four hours.
“Here,” Dee said, offering the dish to Kat. “It’s a chicken and rice dish. One of the few things I make without burning. It’s, like, enough food for eight. Let’s hope Lina likes it.”
“One sec,” she said, and put the phone back to her ear. “Mack, I’m gonna call you back, okay? Dee just walked in.”
He agreed, and she disconnected the call while opening the door wider and waving Dee inside. “Come in, come in. Lina’s sleeping. I was just finishing up work.” The food delivery reminded Kat that she’d never eaten dinner. It was after nine. “I’m starving, have you eaten? You want a drink?”
“No and yes,” Dee said. “Let’s eat this. It’s too much for Lina. You can tell her if it’s any good.”
Kat chuckled, put Dee’s dish in the oven to warm, and poured them both a glass of pinot.
“I saw Ryan yesterday,” Kat said, having quickly decided that it would be disingenuous to act oblivious. After all, Ryan had felt comfortable opening up; maybe Dee would find it easier to talk to her as well, now that she was an outsider. “He told me about you and Charlie splitting up. I’m so sorry, Dee.”
Dee sat at the kitchen peninsula. “Yeah, well, it’s been a roller coaster, but I may actually be turning the corner. I think I’m finally seeing the good in all of it.”
Kat reached across the counter, putting a hand on Dee’s. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
Dee blushed. Her eyes began to water. “So, I guess you know about our idiotic escapades?”
Kat gave a half smile, trying to indicate knowing without any pleasure in being privy to the information. “Sorry.”
“It was all so dumb. Just some drunken kisses. But Charlie wanted more. He always wanted more.” She sipped her wine, and Kat remained silent. “I don’t think I could have ever told anyone this stuff before, but I’m finally feeling like perhaps I’m the lucky one. It’s funny—just a few days ago, I was still so mad at Shea, at the world, feeling like everyone came in and ruined my marriage. But I’m starting to see that Charlie was just a bad husband.” Dee chuckled, as if she finally got the joke.
Kat drank her wine, not wanting to agree or disagree. Dee’s new attitude could just be another stage in the grieving process.
“I shouldn’t have been surprised. Charlie always let his gaze linger on Shea. She was a beautiful woman. And when we got back from Catawba in November and I shared with him our antics on Put-in-Bay, he was so entertained by the idea that Shea was wilder than he’d realized. I didn’t give it much thought. He loves wild women. That’s what Charlie always said he loved about me most, my wild and adventurous side.”
“We all love that about you,” Kat said.
“But that’s the joke. It’s not me. At least that’s not who I always was. Charlie brought it out in me. When we met, he said he bored easily.”
“What does that mean?”
“That was just his veiled way of warning me that he would cheat and eventually break my heart. And he did.”
“He’s cheated on you?”
“Oh yeah. At least twice that I know of, but they were always strangers, at least to me. Women he met while traveling for work. But we’ve been married for twenty-three years. We have a family. It’s hard to just toss it all aside because of a few . . .” It was like she wasn’t sure what to call it. “But, you know, when he said that about getting bored easily back when we were dating, I thought of it as a challenge. It never occurred to me at the time that it was Charlie’s problem—his attention span that needed work. I was twenty-four, and I simply decided that I was never
going to be accused of being boring. He was the most exciting—certainly the best-looking—man I’d ever dated.”
Dee began recounting her wild adventures in the name of keeping Charlie happy: taking mushrooms with him on that camping trip, jumping off that cliff on their honeymoon, pretending to be someone else at a restaurant to snag reservations. Everything outlandish had been Charlie’s idea, but most of the time, she enjoyed it. And after a while, she thought she was wild and adventurous, even though, prior to Charlie, she’d never broken a rule or taken a real risk.
When they finished their wine, Kat excused herself to check on Lina and found her sleeping soundly in the bedroom. She’d probably sleep through the night. Kat plated up a couple of servings of the casserole Dee had brought.
Kat ate, and Dee talked. She seemed glad to be sharing.
“When the actual swap happened,” Dee said, “Ryan and I panicked, giggling at the absurdity of it, and backed out. I was so relieved.”
“Yeah, that’s what Ryan said, too.”
“But after that night, Charlie started acting weird. I’d walk into a room, and he’d be looking at Shea’s Facebook page. I’d find calls to Shea’s number on his phone. I’d see texts he sent to her. And he didn’t come anywhere near me after that for more than a month, not normal for the guy who treated sex like a workout—in the mood or not, it had to be done at least twice a week.” Dee stared at her plate, moving the food around with her fork.
“But Ryan said that Shea was the one who ran downstairs that night to stop it. She obviously didn’t want to do it, either.”
“I know. But then in February, Charlie said he wanted some time alone to think and said he’d work out of our place in Michigan for a while. I just knew that something was happening between them.”
“Did you talk to Shea?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why? She was your friend.”
“I don’t know why. Now that she’s gone, it seems even crazier, but my husband had fallen for her. I knew it. I could see it. How could I talk to her about it? I’d even said I was okay with the stupid swinging idea!”