Frank closes his eyes briefly. “So, wait a minute. You’re telling me that Ryan was in Sandra Mulcahey’s house right before she killed herself? And he was there on the night that Ted killed himself?”
I take a deep breath. It feels good to share this information with someone and not be alone with it anymore. But only for a few seconds. Then I am filled with guilt. I feel like I have just terribly betrayed my husband.
“Does the OSI know this?” Frank says.
I shake my head and cry. “I can’t get myself to…”
He grabs me by the shoulders and looks into my eyes. “You need to tell them, Laurie. You need to go down there and tell them what you know.”
I bite my cheek. I know he is right, but it still pains me so much. “What if I’m wrong? What if it is just a coincidence? What if it just happened twice? Lightning can sometimes strike the same place several times. I read of a guy who was struck by lightning twelve times and survived all of them. Coincidences happen, even odd ones.”
He shrugs. “That’s your defense for him? This is what you’ve been telling yourself? Tell me this, has Ryan been violent with you? And tell me the truth. I saw the way he looked at you that day when he came home. Has he hurt you? What about the kids?”
I swallow. He’s getting a little too close for comfort now. I look away and am about to grab my coffee cup when he pulls my shoulder and forces me to look at him.
“Laurie, tell me the truth here. Has Ryan been violent with you since he came back?”
I look up, and our eyes meet. Frank doesn’t need my answer anymore. He knows. He pulls back, cupping his mouth.
“Oh, dear Lord, Laurie. I thought something was off between you guys, but this…you have to go to the Office of Special Investigations, the OSI. You can’t live like this. Promise me you’ll talk to them. Promise me.”
Chapter 23
I promise him, even though I’m not sure I’m going to keep it. When Frank leaves, I rush to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast. I think about what I’d say to the investigators. They’ll ask me why I didn’t tell them anything earlier. What is my excuse? I can’t come up with one that sounds plausible. Will it be enough if I explain I wanted to protect my husband? That I still don’t know if it is all just a coincidence? What am I going to say? They don’t even think there’s been a crime committed. And maybe there hasn’t. Maybe I’m just making things up in my mind.
Frank is a forensic technician. He knows what he’s doing. He told you that Ted didn’t die by hanging. It doesn’t look like suicide.
“Then why are they calling it suicide? Why does the OSI claim it is?” I ask into the empty kitchen. Only Rosie is with me, and she doesn’t even seem to care. “Maybe Frank is the one who is wrong? He could make mistakes, too, right?”
“Who could make mistakes?”
I almost drop the bowl I am holding between my hands as I hear Ryan’s voice behind me. I turn to see him. He is smiling. He grabs a grape from the counter and eats it, chewing with his mouth open.
“You scared me,” I say.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Who were you talking to?”
He looks around like he’s expecting to find someone.
I smile nervously. “Just Rosie. We like to have a little chat now and then.”
He grins. “You’re talking to the dog now?”
“She’s the only company I have all day,” I say.
“That’s a little sad,” he says.
“How did it go at the doctor’s?” I ask. “You look happy. Was it good news?”
He smiles widely. “I got it—the old all-clear. I’m ready to get back to work again. I’ll start Monday.”
I gasp happily. “That’s awesome news, honey. You’ve worked so hard for this.”
He grabs another grape and pops it into his mouth. “Yup. Gonna be good to get back in the saddle, you know?”
I nod and put the bowl back on the counter.
“As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go for a run,” he continues. “I need to get in better shape to keep up with the others come Monday.”
He leaves to get dressed for his run, and I continue to put away plates, emptying the dishwasher when I see the two cups sitting on the counter next to me. I stare at them, then wonder if Ryan saw them. I pray he didn’t. Maybe he was too happy to notice.
I grab both cups and put them in the dishwasher, then close it up as Ryan returns. “Say, where is my shirt? The white one I always run in?”
“Ah, I haven’t had time to wash,” I say. “I’ll do it later. Can you maybe wear another one?”
He pauses, then tilts his head slightly to the side. “You haven’t had time to do laundry? Don’t you usually do the laundry in the morning after the kids leave?”
“Y-yes.”
He frowns, still smiling, but the smile is stiffening slightly. “So, please tell me, what have you been so busy with all morning that you didn’t have time to do the laundry? And that you aren’t cleaning up after breakfast till now?”
I stare at him and feel the blood leave my face. I don’t know what to say to him. I realize now that he could have seen those two cups; he probably did, and now he’s waiting to see if I’ll lie to him.
“Vera stopped by,” I said. “Just for coffee.”
“Vera, huh?”
“Yes, Vera. I know you don’t like me seeing her, but she needed my advice on something with a boy she met.”
The lie is so thick; I fear he’ll see straight through it.
“That’s strange,” he says.
“What is?” There’s a tremor in my voice, and I worry he’ll hear it. Sweat is springing to my forehead, and I can’t hold my hands still.
“Well, first of all, you just said you had only been talking to Rosie all day. And second, I saw Vera an hour ago when I stopped by to tell the others the great news that I’ll be back next week.”
I look away and feel his eyes on me. It’s like they’re burning on my skin.
“Well, she was only here briefly.”
I close the dishwasher, then walk past him, holding my breath. I can feel his eyes are on me as I walk up the stairs. A few minutes later, I hear the front door slam shut, and I look out the window from upstairs to see him running down the street, taking long, determined, and—what seems to me like—aggressive strides.
“You need to tell the OSI.”
Frank’s words keep ringing in my ears as I put the laundry in the washer and turn it on. My heart is beating fast with fear and worry. I know he’s right; I’m just not quite sure what will happen afterward. Will Ryan realize I’m the one who told them? Do I need to get away? I don’t want to have to take the kids out of their familiar surroundings and go into hiding. Because that will be the result, won’t it? I’ll have to hide from him. And then what when he finds me?
Will he make it look like I killed myself when he murders me?
Will the kids have to grow up alone with a father who’s a murderer?
I am spinning out of control, and I know it. I am losing my grip and allowing my active imagination to run away with me. I know this, but I can’t stop it.