by E. C. Diskin
“Yeah, we love this old house.” He smiled at the room. “It’s been nothing but dust and debris since we moved in, but it’s a great old place.”
It was a huge living room. The fireplace mantel was massive and it looked like the entire piece was made of stone. “And I love those doors,” Abby said, nodding toward the back wall. Two giant french doors obviously lead to the backyard. “I just feel a little weird being here. I haven’t even met Meg yet.”
Nate smiled. “I know. I thought she might still be up, but she often falls asleep after putting Lizzy down. She’s still getting up a couple of times each night, so she’s pretty much exhausted all the time.”
“And she won’t mind finding me here tomorrow?”
“No. I’ve told her all about you. And I’ll tell her you’re here before I leave in the morning. I’m sure she’ll be glad for the company.”
Abby didn’t say any more. She drank her hot chocolate and stared at the flames.
“Abby, I can’t believe the mess you’re in. It’s unbelievable.”
She looked at him then. “I feel so stupid. I don’t know how I let myself get set up like this. This wouldn’t have happened to Denny. He was too smart.”
“Abby, you’re smart too. This could have happened to anyone. It was random.”
“Well, I don’t think it could have happened to anyone. It’s not exactly a normal situation.”
“It sounds like this happened because you were trying to help a friend, to do the right thing.”
“Yeah, but I got him killed.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Abby.”
She couldn’t respond. The words seemed empty. She felt empty. Silence began to fill the space between them.
“Abby, talk to me.”
She looked at him for clues of his meaning.
“You’re not the girl I knew in high school.”
Thank god. That’s what she had been running from.
“You were confident, outrageous, full of big dreams. And now…”
This didn’t feel like a compliment. She turned her gaze back toward the fire and closed her eyes to stop the tears from coming. “And now?” she nearly whispered.
“You just seem so alone…and sad.” He waited for a response.
She didn’t have one. She sipped her hot chocolate.
“What happened with your boyfriend? Your eyes actually lit up when you told me about him.”
She tried to answer, but couldn’t find the right words.
“Did you love him?”
She nodded.
“Why did you let him go?”
She thought about the quickest way to answer the question. “He didn’t really know me.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at Nate now, ready to see the change in his expression that would surely end this line of questioning.
“He didn’t even know about Denny. I told him I was an only child.”
He almost laughed. But it wasn’t a joke. “Why?”
There was really no reason not to come clean at this point. She’d already lost it all. “I…, he…,” The words felt trapped in her throat.
“Abby.”
She knew he was going to try and make her feel better. She couldn’t take it anymore. She put the mug down on the table with force. A splash of chocolate jumped the rim. “I killed him.” As soon as the words escaped, she looked away from Nate, unable to face him.
Nate sat forward. “No you didn’t. He was killed by a drunk driver.”
She shook her head. He didn’t get it. It was too late to turn back now. She looked at him and forced the words to come. “I’m the reason Denny is dead.”
“No one blames you, Abby. I don’t understand.”
“They should blame me. If they knew, they would.”
“Knew what?”
She couldn’t look at him. She stared into the fire. “We weren’t out together that night, Nate.”
Nate didn’t respond and Abby looked at the confusion in his face. “He was at the library, studying, of course. I was drunk and didn’t want to get in trouble with Mom and Dad. I called him to come get me. He was on the road that night because of me.”
Nate sat back in silence then, taking in the information. She held her breath and awaited the anger that would follow. “But Abby, even still…,”
He still didn’t get it. She felt angry. He needed to see. “We were fighting in the car. He told me I was acting like a screw-up. I told him he was an asshole. What an asshole, right? Big brother, the one who was about to graduate at the top of his class, the one who was nice enough to come get me so I wouldn’t have to call Mom and Dad—he was the asshole.”
“Abby, you can’t blame yourself for his death. It was a tragic accident.”
“But I was fucking with the radio!”
“What?”
“Trying to tune him out. And he went to turn it down and I slapped his hand away. We would have seen that car. I distracted him. I caused the accident.”
Nate didn’t say anything. She knew. She knew that Nate finally understood. He’d probably hate her, but there was some sense of relief in saying it out loud. Finally.
“All these years…,” he put down his mug and stood.
“I killed your best friend, Nate. I killed my brother.” She couldn’t look at him. She waited for him to leave. It was what she expected. What she deserved. The blame.
But he didn’t leave. Nate came over to her chair and forced her to stand up and look at him. She couldn’t do it. She was afraid to see his eyes.
His arms locked around her and she tried to pull back. He held her tight. She went limp, but he wouldn’t let go. She froze, not sure what to make of this.
He whispered in her ear, “Abby, I don’t blame you. You were a kid.”
Abby sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Nate.”
He let go then and held her back so she would see his face. “Yes, you got drunk. But you were a teenager. Screwing up is expected.”
She kept shaking her head, unable to take the pain of sharing the truth.
“You called your brother. You didn’t get behind the wheel yourself. That was the right thing to do.”
Abby couldn’t respond.
“Is that why you’ve done all this?” He let her free of his embrace and she fell back into the chair. Nate stepped back to his seat and waited.
Abby stared at the carpet as the tears dropped off her chin. She wiped her face. “When I finally woke up in the hospital and Mom and Dad sat at the side of my bed and said that Denny was dead, I couldn’t tell. Mom’s eyes were so red and swollen. I knew she’d been crying for days. Dad could barely even look at me. But they kept hugging me and saying how grateful they were that I was alive. I couldn’t tell them. I couldn’t bear to have them hate me.”
“They wouldn’t have—”
“They would have blamed me. They had a right to. It was my fault. Nate, he was in that car because of me. We didn’t see that man speeding toward the red light because of me!”
Nate tried to speak again but she cut him off. “But I couldn’t tell. I just didn’t know what to do. And I tried to think about Denny. What would he do? He wanted to be a lawyer, like dad. Dad loved that. I thought maybe I could give him that. Maybe make him proud, maybe make Denny proud. The next year I signed up for debate. It made them so happy. I quit singing. I got serious about school. It seemed like every time I made a decision based on what Denny would have done, it helped.”
“You’ve been trying to live his life.”
“Doing a great job too, aren’t I?”
Nate smirked and shook his head. It reminded her of Denny. “Is there anything you like about being a lawyer?”
Abby didn’t answer right away and Nate laughed. She had to smile too. “I’m thinking!” She wiped the tears. “Actually, I’ve enjoyed a few things. When I feel like I’m helping people, I like that. But most of the time, it’s just a lot of game-playing. And none of thi
s feels natural. It’s like I’ve been playing a part.”
“Is that why you say your boyfriend didn’t know you?”
Abby nodded. “We were engaged. Did I tell you that?” She didn’t wait for the response. “I loved him. I still love him. But you can’t marry someone if you’re not going to really let them in. I couldn’t do it. I was too afraid. He used to prosecute DUIs for Christ’s sake! He was always telling me stories. How could I tell him that I was one of those stories? That I was—”
“Abby, look at me.”
She did.
“We all make mistakes. But Denny wouldn’t want you living his life. He was so proud of you.”
“There wasn’t anything to be proud of. I was a fuck-up.”
“He thought you were awesome. He thought you were talented. Abby, you’ve got to forgive yourself.”
This was so unexpected. All these years, Abby had been sure she knew what people would think of her if they knew the truth. But here was Nate. He hadn’t yelled. Hadn’t even gotten mad. It was overwhelming. It felt good to finally be free of all the secrets.
“I couldn’t go through with it, Nate. The wedding. I kept putting it off. Kept putting the job first. David got sick of it. Sick of me. I couldn’t blame him, but I just couldn’t choose him, you know?”
He obviously didn’t know.
“I had to choose Denny.”
They sat in silence for several minutes.
“Abby, thank you for telling me.”
She stared into the flames, watching them dance and hiss and crackle. She watched the smoke rise up the chimney. She felt lighter. “Thanks for not hating me, Nate.”
“Abby.”
She looked at him then. At his warmth and ease.
Nate leaned forward and smirked like he had a secret. “You know, Abby, maybe all this happened for a reason. I mean, it’s pretty random that we found each other after all these years. Everything that’s happened to you in the last month is pretty random. Maybe Denny had something to do with it.”
She smiled at the thought of her brother pulling strings from above. She took a deep breath. It was finally over.
TWENTY-EIGHT
MARCUS was dressed, sitting in the corner, waiting. The sun was coming up and filled the room with light. Duvane burst through the door.
Marcus stood immediately. “Thank God. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Doctors gave you the all clear, right?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be fine. We need to find Callahan.”
“On that note, I have a surprise.”
“What?”
“Come with me.”
THEY arrived at the eleventh district station house and went to the second floor—to the viewing room adjacent to the interrogation room. There, behind the glass, sat Reilly. Hunched over, with his head on the table, sleeping.
“What time did you get him?”
“It was about nine o’clock last night. He was spotted in the evidence room, going through the stuff from the Rashid murder-suicide case. I had him held. After a few hours, he fell apart. Told me everything.”
“Well, let’s go.”
Duvane and Marcus entered the room together and Marcus emptied the contents of a folder on the table. Reilly’s wallet, phone, and keys fell to the table. Reilly woke from the noise.
Duvane started. “Pick up that phone and call Callahan. Speaker phone. Find out where he is.”
Reilly’s nerves were shot. Marcus didn’t have time for any games. “Whatever he told you to do, say it’s done. Your only shot at not going away for all of Callahan’s crimes is full cooperation.”
Reilly dialed the phone. They all listened to the ringing. Callahan picked up on the second ring. He was obviously groggy.
“Uh, hey, Trip. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Mike, what the hell? I called you like ten times last night. What’s the status?”
“You’re good. I put a report in the system for your car. Said that you reported it stolen at noon.”
“And the girl? Is she dead?”
Reilly looked at Marcus, who nodded. “Yeah.”
“What about that big fucker that was with her?”
Marcus smiled. He wanted to rip the phone from Reilly’s hand and spew venom at Callahan, but he controlled himself and gestured the correct answer.
“Dead too.”
“And what about all those squad cars at the motel—what was that about?”
“Some drug bust.”
“Well, that’s good news.” His voice cleared like he was waking up. “We’re good, baby!”
Reilly continued. “I need out, Trip.”
Callahan didn’t respond.
“Trip, come on. You don’t need me anymore. I did what you asked. You’re covered for yesterday. Just give me back my gun.”
“Mikey, relax.” There was a pause then.
Reilly looked at the phone like maybe Callahan had hung up.
They heard Callahan talk to someone in the background. The voices were muffled. It sounded like he said he’d be right down.
Finally, Callahan spoke into the phone again. “Mikey, you there? Okay, we’re done. I’ve got enough buildings at this point. Business is good. I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Reilly opened his mouth to respond.
“But I’m not giving you that gun. That’s my insurance. I’m not an idiot.”
“Fine.” He looked up at Marcus and Duvane. Marcus motioned him to keep talking.
“Take care of yourself, Mikey.” The phone went dead.
Marcus was busting. “You didn’t ask him where he was!”
“It would have been a giveaway. He would have known.”
Duvane broke in. “He’s right, Marcus. But here’s the good news. He should feel perfectly safe. Totally covered. We’ll stake out his office, his properties, his apartment. The moment he surfaces, we’ve got him.”
“But meanwhile, Abby’s living in limbo. And what about the press? If a reporter got the E.R. reports from last night, this would be a story. We need to nail this guy now.” Marcus grabbed Reilly by the collar and forced him up to face him. His feet practically came off the ground. “Where do you think he’d be?”
“I don’t know! I’m sure I don’t know half the shit Callahan was into. Maybe he’s got a girl.”
“Did he have any properties out of town?”
“Not that I know of.”
Unsatisfied with Reilly, Marcus tossed him away and slammed his fist against the wall. Reilly stumbled back and tripped over the chair. No one spoke.
“Oh shit. Yes! Duvane, let’s go!” Marcus was already heading for the door.
Duvane followed. “What is it?”
“His parents. They live in Lake Forest. Sounded like he said he’d be right down. As in, he’s on the second floor…of a house? It’s breakfast time.”
Reilly stood there, clearly wondering if he had any hope. “What about me?”
Marcus didn’t even turn around. “You’re busy.”
They left the room and instructed the officer outside the door to confiscate his things again and guard the room.
· · ·
THE morning sun streamed through the windows. Abby woke feeling surprisingly well rested. She looked around at the spacious and meticulously decorated room and took in the view out back—the big pile of construction debris, partially tarped and covered under a fresh blanket of snow, the patio directly below her, the large yard surrounded by a new cedar picket fence, and beyond the fence, the thick blue line across the horizon—Lake Michigan. Even without her glasses, it was a breathtaking property.
She wanted to stay here forever. No stress, no memories, no fear. It was like it all washed away. She felt lighter. Almost like the last few weeks had just been a bad dream.
Finally, she felt free. Free of the weight of her secret. And it was okay. Nate knew everything and he still loved her. Maybe everything did happen for a reason. Maybe Denny really did want h
er to live her own dreams. She had the sudden urge to tell her parents the whole story. They might blame her, but now she wasn’t sure.
Maybe she could even come clean to David. What must he be thinking? She wondered if he’d seen her e-mail yesterday. What a relief to learn that David actually drove her home from the wedding. She wondered what they’d talked about. More questions filled her head. The end of that evening was still a haze. If she could just tell him why she let him go, tell him how sorry she was, how much she had missed him. Maybe he’d react like Nate.
No. It didn’t matter now. David was engaged. He was happy. She couldn’t mess with that. She’d put him through enough.
Abby fell back onto the bed and closed her eyes, exhausted. She had to end the charade. She couldn’t even worry about work. She’d probably messed that up too, but she didn’t care.
A baby started crying down the hall and Abby listened as Nate’s wife, Meg, soothed her. The sounds got louder and she could hear them go downstairs. She took a look in the big mirror above the dresser. She was a wreck, but there was little she could do to fix it.
ABBY walked through the living room, now flooded with sunlight, and smelled the remnants of burned wood in the fireplace. She followed the sounds of Meg and the baby through the dining room off to the left. Straight ahead she saw the kitchen and heard Meg. She entered tentatively.
“Hello?” It felt so strange to meet this way. Meg was standing by the sink and the baby was in some sort of bouncing chair on the countertop watching her mommy.
Meg turned to Abby and immediately came to her with a big smile. “Hi Abby!” She pulled her in for a hug without hesitation. “Nate has told me so much about you. I couldn’t wait to meet you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Something about her voice, the expression on her face, told Abby that she probably knew everything. Maybe not the whole Callahan mess, but certainly the Denny stuff. Abby didn’t care.
“I hope you don’t mind meeting me in such a weird way.”
“Oh please. I don’t care.” She spoke to the baby then. “Lizzy, this is Abby. Say ‘Hi Abby.’”
Abby said hi and reached for her tiny hand.