She did remember the incident; she just wouldn’t admit it. Caryn spooned béarnaise onto her asparagus. She remembered the woman who had recognized her too. She had known Trina in high school. Trina was one of Miss Popular’s groupies. But after what had happened, Caryn wanted nothing to do with Trina or any of her friends. Ever again.
“She said she knew your brother Edmund, or Edward,” Mack continued. “But you don’t have a brother or you would have told me. So I knew she mistook you for someone else.”
“I must have one of those faces. That kind of thing happens a lot,” Caryn deflected. The look Mack referred to was hatred, sheer and simple.
For Caryn, high school had been more about learning life skills than the three Rs. No parental figure at home made growing up a bit like Lord of the Flies. In fact, what happened to Miss Popular had played a bigger part in Ekhard’s leaving than anything else. He’d been dating her, after all, and for the first time in her life, Caryn wondered if Ekhard had loved Suzanne.
Mack droned on. “I have no idea why it stuck in my mind. It wasn’t that big a deal. She must have sparked something. Maybe she just pissed you off.” Mack laughed. “Now and then when you’re mad, though, you do this thing with your eyes. I call it your going-for-the-kill look.”
Caryn laughed with him, trying not to sound forced or fake. I know why it stuck in your mind. I wanted to kill that woman. I would have, too, if …
“I don’t remember,” she lied.
“It was nothing, Car. I hope you never give me one of those looks.” Mack smiled a nervous smile.
She narrowed her gaze. “I gave you that look when I came home tonight.”
Tilting his head to one side, Mack teased, “Did you?”
“I thought so,” she bantered. I can pretend to joke about this. Mack has no clue.
Mack sat back, sipping his wine. “Whatever it was, it was pretty damn sexy.”
CHAPTER 32
CARYN
Mack’s ringing cell phone woke Caryn the next morning. As he crept out of bed to answer the call, she heard him say, “Hi, Erin,” in a low whisper. “That’s okay, I was getting up for work anyway.” He closed the bathroom door.
The sheets cocooned Caryn in a warm nest that she couldn’t stay in forever. Her eyes drifted open. Six fifteen according to the clock. What kind of wife calls her husband at that hour?
Mack’s voice rose and fell in the bathroom. Was he arguing with her?
Caryn peeled off the blanket, exposing her naked body to the invigorating morning air. She pushed herself up on her elbows and dropped her feet over the edge of the bed. A black silk robe hung over the chair in the corner. She poured it on, a cool liquid coat with ruby-colored roses embroidered up and down the back. Mack had bought it for her on a trip to Dubuque where he went for a conference last summer. Dubuque, Iowa, the hotbed of luxurious and exotic garments. The robe was something a mistress or kept woman would wear. Mack didn’t stay overnight at Caryn’s often. This was only the second time she’d worn the robe.
With the sash tied, she tiptoed across the cold kitchen floor in her bare feet and turned on the coffeemaker he had prepared last night. A bowl of fruit sat on the counter. He must have gone grocery shopping for her too. She took a banana.
Leaving the lights off in the semi-dark room, she opened her laptop case on the kitchen counter. While the computer booted up, she ate the banana. Overnight she’d had a dream that she and her brother reconnected. They were drinking Kool-Aid of all things. Caryn remembered the last time she had seen Ekhard after he betrayed and abandoned her. The smell of cherry blossoms had filled the air as she stood pressed against his apartment wall. Caryn remembered the cold, hard brick against her shoulder blades because she’d forgotten to wear a jacket that day. Ekhard had been dressed in a gray blazer over a dark-blue golf shirt as he strode toward the apartment. She had slipped to her car as soon as the door to the building closed behind him.
She didn’t talk to Eks that time. They didn’t reconnect. She’d never phoned. Over the years she had been watching him, keeping track of every movement, every job change, every alias. By staying in Indiana, Ekhard made it easy for her to find him. Caryn wondered if he regretted leaving her. Did he stay in Indiana to remain close to me? Is he stalking me? How would he take it if I showed up on his doorstep?
Mack opened the bathroom door. “Oh, you’re awake,” he said and padded to the kitchen while zipping up his pants. “Cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please.” The green light from her computer screen lit the countertop.
Mack set two cups on the counter and poured. “One black cup of joe for my sweetie.” He leaned over the counter and kissed her on the nose.
“You’re chipper this morning,” Caryn said without a smile.
“I woke up next to you. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Beautiful? Funny, I thought I heard you arguing with Erin.”
He stirred cream and sugar into his coffee. “About that … Listen, Car, I’m asking Erin for a divorce.”
This is new! Caryn’s heart skipped a beat, not in a good way. Every nerve ending stood at attention as his statement jolted her nervous system. Eyes wide, Caryn shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“I want to be with you, Caryn. Erin is so … demanding. I can’t be who she wants me to be anymore.”
She closed her laptop lid. “You’re suffering from postcoital brain damage.”
Mack’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s not brain damage. I’m in love with you.”
Was that even possible? “No, you’re not.”
“Can we at least discuss it?” he pleaded.
“No.” She shoved the stool aside and stomped out of the kitchen.
Love. It wasn’t a word she used loosely. In fact, she never used it. As if she knew what that feeling was.
Mack picked up his coffee and strolled after her.
Caryn fumbled with a pair of pants. She then stripped off the robe and pulled a shirt over her head.
Mack placed a hand on the small of her back. Something told Caryn she had hurt his feelings. Shouldn’t I be the one consoling him?
“Don’t.” She moved away. She was not ready for this. And probably never would be.
“I want to move in with you.”
An ancient image of her parents made its way to the forefront of her mind: her dad so severe, and her mom, with a cigarette between her lips, with the same look as the woman in the famous American Gothic painting—only Dad held a drink in his hand instead of a pitchfork.
“You have a wife. Don’t expect me to be that woman for you.” She pushed past him into the bathroom as a frightening thought came into her mind. “Did you already break up with her? Is that why you were arguing?”
Mack lowered his head. “I might have mentioned something.”
Caryn spun around. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing. She called the home phone.” Mack gripped his coffee cup in both hands. The sad look on his face reminded Caryn of homeless dogs in the humane society—animals with no place to go and no one to love them, animals about to be euthanized.
The reality of the situation, his situation, dawned on her. “She knew you weren’t there. She’s dumping you. You piece-of-shit liar! She dumped you, didn’t she?” Their affair had lasted for over a year and a half. How had Erin not noticed it before?
“She told me not to come home tonight.” His head hung a little lower.
Caryn had been alone since high school. Single. Solitary. That was the way she liked it. She had no intention of sharing her life with anyone. “You need to go back to her.”
“Come on, Car. I love you.” He leaned toward her, his big soft-brown eyes saying, “devoted for life.”
“Don’t do this, Mack. Don’t pressure me.” Caryn backed away. She didn’t want anyone to be so close to her. Anyone who might want her to share her secrets.
“Why not? I’m ready to move forward with you.”
“
Mack, you’re married. You ought to have kids by now. That would be moving on—the perfect wife, family life—I will never be that for you. For God’s sake, go back to your wife!”
CHAPTER 33
CARYN
It was another overcast, white-skied, midwestern day. An unforgiving wet drizzle soaked the car and everything else in central Indiana. Leafless trees stood dormant, dripping, ready for the long sleep of winter. In the city of Lebanon, Caryn pulled into the Quincey’s Brewery parking lot.
She drove to the far end of the lot and parked away from other cars, a long-time habit. When Ekhard was still in school, the track team had keyed his Buick Skylark. The scratches ran the entire length of the car. To get even, he stuffed socks into the exhaust pipes of three of the team members’ cars during a track meet. Two suffered carbon monoxide poisoning. The third, who drove a ’62 Mustang, started his car with the windows closed. There must have been a hole in the carburetor. When the kid lit a cigarette with the engine running, the car exploded. The boy sustained third- and fourth-degree burns on his face and arms. He didn’t complete the school year. Ekhard had always been vindictive. No matter the cost, he would get the last laugh.
Wary of approaching him, she kept her head low, strolled into the pub and found a seat at the bar. On the TV screen overhead, the IU quarterback pitched a ball high into the air. First and ten.
“Bourbon on the rocks?” The bartender, a soft woman with ash-brown hair, flipped a glass onto the bar and scooped ice into it.
“Yeah, same as usual,” Caryn said. When she overheard Ekhard/Nathaniel talking to his client, they had mentioned this bar. Every day since, Caryn had been leaving work early to catch a glimpse of her brother. She was trying to build up the nerve to speak to him.
“You got it.” The bartender busied herself, filling the glass while staring at the TV. “Hope IU wins- tonight. Record’s been crap so far.”
Caryn hated small talk. More than that, she didn’t care about football. When the bartender had finished pouring, she sat back and scanned the room.
A few minutes later, the door flew open and Ekhard tramped in, stomping the wet off his feet and shaking out a long trench coat. He made his way toward the table behind Caryn where a woman sat with a big box.
What a stroke of luck. Caryn would be able to hear everything they said.
“Hilary, I’m so glad you could make it,” he greeted her.
Ekhard folded his coat and placed it neatly over the back of one chair. While Hilary struggled to lower the box onto the floor, he sat down.
“Hi,” she said, red-faced from the effort. “Thanks for meeting with me. I can’t wait to hand this over to you. I brought the statements from my mutual funds. But I have bad news. I didn’t have time to get the bond certificates you requested.”
Ekhard slid onto a stool. “Okay, okay. Hold your horses. Let me order a beer for you first.” He waved to the waitress.
The waitress meandered over to their table. While he ordered beers, Caryn took a big swallow of her bourbon. She dug the horn-rimmed glasses out of her purse and put them on. It was okay that she couldn’t see the TV clearly anymore. She wanted anonymity.
“Tell me what you have here.” Ekhard waved at the box on the floor.
“I brought everything. The statements from the last two years and from all my husband’s accounts.” She stopped, placing her fingers to her lips.
Caryn cocked her head and listened, watching out from under the corner of the glasses.
Ekhard touched Hilary’s arm sympathetically. “It’s hard to let go of our loved ones.”
A near sob escaped as she said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I will help you through this. I promise,” he said.
Help her? Caryn doubted it.
When their beers arrived, Hilary took a long drink. Ekhard gazed down at a piece of paper that looked to Caryn like a financial statement.
“Is this all he left you?”
“Plus the bonds,” she said.
“Next time bring those and sign them over to me, okay? I promise, Hilary, I’m going to make you a lot of money.”
“I’ll need all the help I can get. My job at the convenience store doesn’t pay that much.” She sipped her beer.
Caryn waved at the bartender and asked for another drink. She downed the first one, then peered over her shoulder at them through the glasses.
“I go to the gym every Friday.” Ekhard said to Hilary. “I’ve been trying to put on a little weight.” After a pause, he added, “I play racquetball and recently started lifting weights on the off days.”
“Where do you go?” Hilary asked. She seemed too enamored of Ekhard. Caryn wanted to pull her aside and slap her out of it. She’d tell her what a loser her brother was. And what he had done.
“Gold’s Gym,” he said. “They have the best weight equipment. I can do traditional or nautilus.”
“Is it working? Are you putting on weight?” Hilary’s high-pitched voice grated on Caryn’s nerves. She appeared frail. Weak. Ekhard would probably like that about her.
He guffawed, “I hope so.”
Hilary said, “It’s nice of you to help me with all this. I need someone like you to take care of the financial part of things. I’m so stupid about all that.”
Ekhard answered, “I’m doing something I’m good at. I enjoy numbers.”
Caryn choked on her bourbon and spit it across the bar as a sudden torrential outburst of laughter erupted from her. Ekhard? Enjoying numbers? That had always been Caryn’s forte. She reined in her laughter to hear what was said next, adjusting her glasses and wiping her mouth with a napkin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ekhard peering at her. A cold chill washed over her. Had Eks recognized her? Was this it? Would he finally speak to her after all these years? Caryn held her breath and tried to plan her escape.
Hilary had started laughing too. “To me, numbers are impossible. Hugh, my husband, handled everything. I never thought to ask. Now that he’s dead …” Hilary sniffled. “You are rescuing me just like he did.”
Another laugh erupted from deep inside Caryn. This time she trained her gaze on the television, pretending something she’d seen there had caused her outburst. She could feel his cold gaze on her, and it made her want to run again. To finish her drink and get the hell out of there.
Ekhard smoothed his features and the collar on his light-blue, button-front shirt. “I’m here to take care of things for you, Hilary.” He stacked her statements and put them aside. “But let’s put the paperwork away for now. It’s been a long week for me. I can look over your statements tomorrow. I don’t mind working on the weekend.”
“That’s really sweet of you.” Hilary batted her nonexistent eyelashes. “By the way, you never said how much it will cost for your services.”
“My services?” Ekhard looked at the statement again. “For you, I’ll make it affordable.”
Hilary put the pile of papers back in the box at her feet and pushed it toward him.
Ekhard was going to steal money from this widow, Caryn thought. She finally had something she could use to get even with him. Peering over her glasses, Caryn dared to turn and make eye contact with her brother.
Hilary picked up her beer. “Then the business meeting is over. I’d like to find out more about you, Nathaniel Johnson. Tell me about the man behind the name.”
With his beer glass in his hand, Ekhard stared back at Caryn. “Ask me anything.”
Caryn wanted to know too. Who was Nathaniel Johnson? Emboldened, Caryn held up her glass of bourbon, mirroring Ekhard/Nathaniel. They studied each other for a long minute.
“Tell me how you became an accountant,” Hilary said.
“That’s a long story.”
“It appears that I have plenty of time, now that Hugh is gone.” She shrugged.
Caryn flipped her hair back, and that’s when she saw the blood drain from Ekhard’s face.
CHAPTER 34
; CARYN: 26 Years Ago
A group of girls at the bus stop pointed and giggled. Clouds of breath billowed out of their mouths as they talked. Caryn, standing apart from the group, made another foggy puff in the crisp morning air. As it flew away, she wished she could too. Like Mom did.
It was January. Her first day at a new school. She was wearing her favorite dress, the one with the big purple flowers, the dress she’d worn at her aunt’s third wedding. It was a summer dress. Caryn’s brown winter boots hit the bottom of the ruffle. Mom would have said the boots didn’t match the dress. If Mom had been around, she would have told her not to wear any of it. But Mom was gone.
The group of girls faced each other, whispering secret things not meant for Caryn. Two of them glanced at her and laughed. Caryn knew they were talking about her as the bus rumbled to a stop. When they lined up to climb on board, one of the girls asked, “What’s your name?”
“Caryn.” Another cloud puffed into the chilly air.
“You want to sit with me? My name’s Ellen.”
Caryn sat next to Ellen, wishing she could have had the window seat. Instead, she got the aisle. The school bus was noisy. Kids were talking and laughing. It was the middle of the school year, just after Christmas break. Of course everyone in the bus knew each other. To Caryn, they were a bunch of strangers.
She hadn’t wanted to go to this school, but Dad had moved them to a different house during Christmastime. Originally, Mom was supposed to have moved there with them. Caryn thought she would like it. From what everyone said, Mom wasn’t coming back. She and Dad had been fighting the night she left. She had packed a small suitcase and driven off. Just like that. Because she was gone, this Christmas had been the worst ever. They didn’t put up a Christmas tree because Dad couldn’t find the box of ornaments. Instead, he put their presents on the dining-room table in the shopping bags they came in.
Ellen pointed to the enormous box of tissues in Caryn’s lap. “Do you have a cold?”
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