The Damage

by Caitlin Wahrer

  At this point, it wasn’t his place to question whether he believed Nick Hall. The case was Linda Davis’s, now. The system would have to do its best to sort it out.

  47

  John Rice, 2019

  That was another regret I had,” Rice said. “I didn’t make it easy for Nick to tell me the truth.”

  Julia looked surprised. “I don’t think it was your fault.”

  “I do,” he said. “A better detective would have done it differently. Would have known how to make him feel safe. I should have told him from the beginning that it was never too late to tell me new information.”

  “Doing a job like yours, you make mistakes with people. It’s awful but there’s nothing you can do.”

  “I could have done better. I shouldn’t have been so concerned with getting everything up front and it staying the same.”

  Julia shook her head. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you. What exactly you did or didn’t say. But I know you’re a good man, and he knew you were doing your best by him. And your job is to get the story up front. You do have to hope for consistent statements, because those statements get cross-examined. The press plays them on repeat. That’s how our system works. It’s not designed for sexual assault cases.”

  “We never got to find out, though.”

  “What?”

  “In Nick’s case. We never got to find out if the system would have done right by him.”

  He studied her face. She looked at her mug on the table between them.

  “Because the defendant went missing,” Rice said. “Weird, right?”

  Her mouth twitched: a smile was threatening to break through.

  It was wild how often people smiled while they were being interrogated. In his earlier years on the force he assumed it was an attempt at nonchalance—an oversimple idea that someone guilty wouldn’t be smiling. Later he wondered if it was some kind of psychological hiccup—the brain smiling at the strangeness of being interrogated, like on TV. He eventually learned another possible explanation at a body language training: an evolutionary holdover where we smile out of fear.

  “Yeah,” Julia said, and she cleared her throat. “We just assumed from the beginning he skipped town.”

  He held her eye.

  His voice was soft. “Did you.”

  48

  Julia Hall, 2015

  Julia was in her office, trying to work on the records report. It had grown too complex to wrangle into a single readable narrative. Her bewilderment with the project was bleeding over, and she kept slipping sideways into other worries.

  In the last few weeks, a low-level anxiety had kicked up in her chest, unrelated to the report. Tony had been off lately. The cause seemed obvious enough: Nick’s overdose had rocked him. She didn’t blame Tony for being upset, but something more than that was going on. For one, he had lied about going to visit Nick on Saturday.

  At the end of Nick’s first week at Goodspring, Nick was feeling lonely. Tony went up to see him for the day on Saturday. Tony told Julia all of this, and she believed it until a day ago. A day ago, she called Nick to find out how visiting hours were going to work on Christmas Day, which was fast-approaching.

  Nick sounded anxious about them bringing the kids to see him at Goodspring.

  “You don’t want us to bring them?”

  There was a long pause. “I guess I don’t know. I don’t want them to think I’m crazy.”

  “You aren’t, honey. We could approach it so many ways, including just telling them you’re there to feel better. We could even say it was a school you were at or something if you’d rather. But we’ll do whatever sounds good to you. I guess I just want you to know that we don’t have any thoughts about hiding you from them.”

  “Thanks,” Nick said quietly. “It would be good to see you all.”

  “I want to see you, too. And the kids will be bonkers for you, you know that.”

  “But not Tony?”

  Julia laughed. “Obviously he’ll want to see you, but he just got to.”

  “Oh,” Nick said. “I guess. This week has felt like a month.”

  “Will it blow your mind if I tell you it was yesterday?”

  “What was?”

  “That you saw Tony.”

  There was a pause. “I didn’t see Tony yesterday.”

  That night, she tried to get the drop on Tony. She waited until he was undressing for bed, and she asked him, as casually as she could, if Nick mentioned anything he wanted for Christmas at their visit. No, Tony said, he didn’t.

  “Did you ask?”

  Tony said nothing.

  “Because he mentioned today that you weren’t there at all yesterday.”

  Tony stammered a second, then told her she’d caught him.

  “Christmas shopping,” he said. A two-word explanation that was beyond cross-examination.

  Even if she believed that he’d been occupied with some Christmas surprise for her all day Saturday, that didn’t explain his behavior on the other days that had passed since Nick’s attempted suicide. Every day, Tony had left early for the office and gotten home late. When he was home, he seemed absent, zoning out while the kids were talking to him. It wasn’t like him at all.

  There were other things that bothered her, too, harder things to name. The rehearsed quality of his voice, for example, when he answered a question about his day. It was the same voice she’d heard him use when he gave a toast at a friend’s wedding. The tone of his voice was different when it was material he’d practiced.

  She could barely focus on the work before her, and she was relieved when she felt her phone buzz on her desk. It was Charlie Lee.

  She’d completely forgotten that Charlie was still looking at Walker for her.

  She answered quickly, longing for some kind of good news about the case.

  His greeting was defeat: “There’s nothing I want to do more than tell you I found something.”

  “Oh, Charlie, that’s okay. I didn’t even remember you were still looking.”

  “I just wanted to circle back. Heard back from the last of the bars I’d contacted. Nothing helpful. He’s been careful before, that’s my guess. Careful and lucky. And now, he’s on his best behavior, as far as I can tell.”

  She thought about telling Charlie what had happened with Nick—about the overdose and the hospitalization. But what was the point? It would probably only frustrate him to hear, since he hadn’t found anything. “Thanks for trying, Charlie.”

  “I know he’s been a real jackass in a public way, with the news and stuff, but at least he isn’t confrontational. With your husband, I mean.”

  “Yeah,” Julia said as she tried to process what he might mean.

  “He isn’t, is he? He wouldn’t still be out on bail if he were being threatening or anything at the gym.”

  “What gym?”

  “The gym they go to, him and your husband.”

  Tony didn’t go to the gym. “The one in Orange?”

  “No, the Weight Room in Salisbury.”

  “Tony doesn’t go there.”

  Charlie paused. “I saw him in his car in the lot there. I drove by last week when I was over that way.”

  The hair on Julia’s neck prickled.

  “It certainly looked just like him,” Charlie said. “I remember him from the photo at your old office. He was in a gray SUV in the gym’s side lot.”

  “What day?”

  “Would have been Thursday.”

  The chill in her neck went hot. “Must just be someone who looks like him,” Julia said. “Tony doesn’t really go to the gym, and Salisbury’s too far a drive.”

  “Must be, that makes more sense. Figured you would have mentioned if they were running into each other.”

  “Thank you so much for trying
, Charlie. You can stop looking now, really.”

  “Things’re still slow, I’m happy to keep at it for a bit—”

  “Please stop. Please just leave it.”

  “All right.”

  “Promise me you won’t look into Walker anymore.”

  “Fine, I promise.” There was silence, and Charlie said, “He’ll get his justice, Julia. I know it’s hard to wait, but it’ll come in time.”

  Tony had been home late on Thursday. Said he had an emergency at work. What were the chances it was his lookalike in a gray SUV at Raymond Walker’s gym all the way in Salisbury?

  There was no way to tell Charlie how wrong he was—how sure she felt that the time for waiting was over.

  * * *

  It wasn’t until she saw the receptionist through the glass doors at Tony’s office that Julia realized it might seem a bit nutty of her to drop in on him in the middle of the workday. She could give two shits what Tony thought about it, but there were other people at his office. Shirley, the receptionist, for one.

  If she knew the thoughts running through Julia’s head at that moment, Shirley would have fainted.

  Shirley saw Julia and slapped the folder in her hand down on the desk. “Julia Hall,” she singsonged. “What a surprise! What are you doing here?”

  Julia felt called out immediately. She looked overbearing. She smiled but could feel it was a lame one. “I just need to see Tony quick.”

  Shirley frowned. “Did he come in today?”

  “What?”

  “He took the day off, or have I lost my marbles?” Shirley sat down and started clicking at the computer. “I always check everyone’s calendar when I come in, and he’s off today and all next week. Unless he popped in for something and I didn’t see him. There he is, yes, he’s out today.”

  Julia white-knuckled the lip of Shirley’s desk. “Can you call down and make sure he isn’t in?”

  “Sure, hon.” Shirley pecked out a number and let it ring on speakerphone. It rang and rang and rang until Tony’s voice mail picked up.

  “I must have misunderstood,” Julia said quietly.

  “Oh, shoot,” Shirley hissed. “I probably just spoiled some kind of Christmas surprise.”

  “Maybe,” Julia said. “I’m sorry to run, but I’ve got to go.”

  Shirley’s face fell with friendly disappointment. “Oh, all right. We’ll have to catch up next time!”

  Julia nodded as she left. Shirley might not have even seen the nod, but Julia couldn’t offer anything more polite—she couldn’t speak.

  She made it to the elevator. The air around her felt as though it was pressing in from all sides. She hit the button and it lit up. Heat rose up through her stomach, chest, neck, face. She kept walking down the hall, found the stairwell, and stepped in as she heard the elevator ding behind her. She walked halfway down to the next landing and sat on a step. Put her head between her legs. Breathed in through her nose. The smell of her jeans, like chemicals. Breathed out through her mouth. Another round, and another. The air thinned and her skin began to cool.

  Julia pulled out her phone. Pressed Tony’s cell number. On two rings he answered.

  “What’s up?” His voice was clipped. He sounded interrupted.

  “Where are you?”

  “At work?”

  “Perfect, I’m out front. Meet me in the lobby.”

  She relished the pause.

  “You’re at my office?”

  “Yup, I’m heading up.”

  “Wait.”

  There was silence. If he lied again—

  “I’m going into a meeting, I can’t see you now.”

  “Bullshit,” she hissed. “Bullshit. I’ve already been up. You’re not here.”

  “What are you doing at my office?”

  “Great question. I show up to my husband’s job expecting him to be there on a Tuesday after he kisses me goodbye in the morning and tells me he’s going to work. Great question. I’m the one who owes an explanation? But I’ve got one, Tony, and since you’re not at work, meet me at home in an hour and I’ll tell you why I came looking for you.”

  Tony was silent for a bit. She’d really unleashed there.

  “You want to do this at home?”

  “We’re out of time to do it anywhere else. I’ve gotta get Seb from the bus stop.”

  “What about Chloe?”

  “My mom is picking her up for girl time, we talked about this last—”

  “Right, right, I forgot. I’ll get Seb.”

  “I can get him.”

  “Please. Let me get Seb, and we’ll meet you at home.”

  She wanted to say no. Not until he told her where he’d been, what he was doing, what the fuck was going on. But this had nothing to do with Seb. This would not bleed over onto the kids.

  “Fine.”

  She hung up without waiting to see if he’d say anything else. She’d given him time to prepare now. He was going to come up with some explanation for playing hooky, so she’d keep what she knew about the gym to herself until she had eyes on him. When had this happened? When had he started—whatever this was, scheming?—behind her back? And where was he now?

  49

  Tony Hall, 2015

  Julia had said he could pick up Seb. He needed to see his son. Tousle his hair, squeeze him tight. Because whatever was coming—a fight, a full-blown marital storm—was going to be a big one. Julia sounded ready to go up one side of him and down the other.

  Tony did some quick math and determined he could, in fact, beat the bus home as long as he left now. He was glad—calling her back to admit otherwise would have been brutal.

  He took one last look at Walker’s house and put the car in drive.

  * * *

  Tony could see Julia through the living room window when he and Seb pulled into the driveway. He wondered, pointlessly, if she might have cooled off since she found he wasn’t at work. Doubtful.

  Seb went running into the house ahead of Tony. He was already chattering at Julia when Tony made it inside. He could hear them in the kitchen as he pulled off his boots in the mudroom.

  “Dad said I could play with the Wii,” Seb announced.

  “Did he,” Julia said.

  Tony stepped into the kitchen. “Thought we could talk while he did.”

  Julia nodded, releasing the smile she’d put on for Seb.

  “Just while we wrap some extra presents,” Julia said to Seb. Christmas was in a matter of days. “That means you stay downstairs, got it?”

  Seb nodded, wide-eyed and grinning like a maniac. The kids had all but forgotten about the Wii until a week ago when they saw an ad for a new game, and now they were obsessed with the stupid thing all over again.

  Tony set Seb up with his game. He stooped to kiss the top of his head through his soft curls. When he straightened himself, Julia was staring at him from the stairs. She beckoned him with an impatient wave.

  He knew what was coming, and they barely made it to the top of the stairs before she started.

  “So, what’s up with your day off?” She paused at the landing and turned to face him.

  “Can’t a man have some privacy around Christmastime?” He smiled as he moved past her and toward the bedroom. It could have been breezy, but he’d practiced it too much.

  Julia shut the door to their room and took a deep breath. She looked tired. “Can you please, please not lie to me? Apparently I can’t expect you to just offer me the truth yourself, but don’t give me an outright lie. And don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m hurting your feelings.”

  “How should I feel when you call me a liar?”

  “What should I call you when you put on a tie and tell me you’re going to work when you have the day off?”
>
  Everything he hadn’t said was welling up in his throat. He turned to their closet and fought to avoid looking at the door as he reached to pull down the last of the unwrapped gifts. Their notes from all their years together flooded his peripheral vision to his left, reminding him of all the things they’d said before. “Can we just do what we need to do before Seb gets restless and comes up here?”

  “No, this”—she pointed at the two of them—“is what we need to do right now. You got dressed for work this morning. You carried your bag out. You went to his gym.”

  Tony started so violently that he dropped a plastic box to the floor. He dumped the rest of the presents onto their bed.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  He turned to her. She didn’t look angry. She looked like she hated him. For a second, he thought she knew the whole thing.

  “Have you been following me?”

  “Fuck off,” she whispered. “How was I supposed to know following Walker meant following you?”

  “You’re following him?”

  “No,” she said. “Charlie was just giving him one last look.”

  Charlie Lee again. “When did he see me?”

  “So you’ve been there more than once.” She didn’t sound angry. She sounded tired.

  She stared at him with eyes that skimmed left and right, surveying the landscape of his face. Searching for something. Yes, he was guilty of that. But he was guilty of more, too, and that needed to stay his guilt alone. He said nothing.

  “You’re scaring me. You need to start talking to me. I can’t—I’m losing my shit.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do with myself.” Tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled. “I can’t have you scaring me like this on top of everything else.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and hung her head.

  He was torturing her. Tony reached out to pull her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head and shushed her quietly. The urge to comfort her with the truth, all of it, was overwhelming. But it wouldn’t comfort her, that was the problem. It would only put her at risk. If anything went wrong, it was better if she’d known nothing at all.