Estranged Heart

Six

Elijah

“I think this is the last of what was in his office,” Jessa says, setting a box on the table. Two days ago, I called up Landon’s best friend to help me box up most of his things. I don’t want to fully part with them yet but I can’t bear to look at them any longer, not when he can’t be here to use them. The book he was last reading sitting on the nightstand, his favorite apron he made breakfast in every morning hanging in the kitchen, and the quilt his grandma made him that he used to snuggle up with on the couch on his days off.

“Did you finish up in here and the living room already?” She speaks again when I don’t respond the first time.

She places a hand on my shoulder, her sniffling pulling my attention from the closed boxes in front of me. This isn’t him being shut away forever but it sure feels like it is. I’m at a crossroads here. I’m unsure what hurts more—seeing him everywhere or packing up most of what’s left. I look to her trembling hand. Everyone else acts this way too, not sure how to be around me. I don’t blame them. I don’t know how to be around me anymore either.

“Elijah.”

Staring up into her red, swollen eyes, I nod and stand up from the chair I haven’t been able to move from for the last hour. Packing his stuff up is too final for me. Must have been for her too. She hasn’t stepped foot in this house since before the . . . I don’t even know what to call it. Accident? Murder? Unfortunate life-altering event?

It’s been over a month, and no matter how many times I tell myself he’s not coming back, it’s hard for my heart to fully accept it when our home is filled with his stuff. Our home. It’s only mine now. The large space is so big for one person.

I move toward the kitchen counter and put everything from the drying rack away, and she follows me, careful not to come too close. Do they think if they touch me too much I’ll break? If that’s the case, they’re too late. I’m already half of what I used to be—jagged and beyond repair.

“Do you want those to go too?” She points to my hand still holding a ladle and spatula. I didn’t put them up with others, not realizing I couldn’t let them go until now.

“Not these. They still feel like they belong in here.”

She takes a deep breath before speaking again. “Did you need help in any other room?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll help take everything up to the attic then.” As Jessa moves toward the boxes, my gaze follows her, and as she picks up the first one I slam the cooking tools down on the counter and step forward. “Leave them where they are. I’ll do it myself.”

Her eyes widen and she slowly lowers the box back to the table. “Okay, I’m sorry. I should have asked first.”

“It’s okay.” I take a deep breath and force a smile onto my face. “You’re only trying to help. I didn’t mean to snap, I just—”

She holds her hand up. “I know. I get it. I do. I was right not to worry about Landon the first weekend you two ran off together. No one took better care of him than you did.”

“Too bad not everyone feels that way.” Not even me. I failed him on the boat. I failed him in the water. The one time he needed my help, I couldn’t offer any to him. I’m failing him now too.

She narrows her gaze on me. “I don’t care what the cops think or what Landon’s family says. You loved him and were never capable of hurting him. Look how you are with his things. Exactly how you were with him—protective, gentle, and caring. What I do worry about is how closed off you’ve been. Instead of trying hard to convince everyone you aren’t to blame, you need to convince yourself first.”

My chest tightens. “It was my big surprise. If only I’d pushed harder for us to stay home, then—”

“Then what? You’d never leave the house again? It could’ve happened anywhere. Anytime.” Her face strains, anger clear in her expression. “You couldn’t have known and neither could he. What happened was a horrible thing, but what you’re doing to yourself isn’t much better.” Her eyes water. “Look at you, Elijah.” She throws her hands in the air. “You look like you haven’t slept in days. When was the last time you’ve eaten or taken a shower?”

“It . . . I don’t know.” I really can’t remember. I’m not sure how I got to this moment. I’ve been running on autopilot. I haven’t been back to work yet or to check on the restaurants. I haven’t stepped foot in my bookstore since opening day. I don’t know how to. Without him, it seems impossible. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to do everything.

She frowns, her brows lowering. “Oh, Elijah. I wish I’d known it was this bad. I should have stopped by sooner.”

“You had your own grief to deal with and I’m fine. I’m not your problem.”

She folds her lips inward, nodding. “Yes, but staying away wasn’t going to bring him back any more than you holding onto his stuff and delaying his funeral.”

“You know why I can’t have it.” My voice rises a little without meaning to. I glance around the room before looking back at her. “I’m not burying an empty casket.”

“What if they don’t find his body?”

“What if they do?” My words shake and I’m worried if I keep talking about this my feet will grow unsteady too. I can already feel myself losing grip on the ground.

“It’s been over two months. It’s time to lay him to rest.”

“We kind of need to find him first in order to do that,” I snap, my heart feeling as fragile as my words sound. Weak and on the verge of breaking.

She grits her teeth, shaking her head. “You know what I mean. He’s gone, Elijah. We all want to say goodbye too. The proper way.”

I scoff. “The proper way?” I raise my hands in air quotes. “You mean your way. I made a promise to him long ago that we’d be buried side by side in the same cemetery. I’m not going to stop looking just because you want to say goodbye to an empty casket.”

“No one’s telling you to stop looking.”

“You’re not exactly encouraging it either. It hasn’t been easy doing this all alone. I’m trying to keep two restaurants open, and I still have to look at funeral homes, pick out the casket. How does a person even know where to start with that? I just need a little more time, okay?”

“Okay. Look . . . I need to tell you something. The main reason Landon took you out that night . . . it wasn’t only to celebrate.”

“What?”

“We should sit down first before I continue.” She pulls out two chairs and I stand frozen, watching her closely.

“Tell me what?” My heart speeds up and the air suddenly seems too thin while I try not to think the worst. Will this explain all the money he was keeping from me?

“Please. Sit.”

“I’d rather stand.” Pressing my feet into the floor, I cross my arms.

Sighing, she lowers into a chair and places her hands in her lap. Instead of looking at me, her eyes are pointed at Landon’s and my wedding photo. “He was sick.”

My stomach sinks. “Sick how?”

She still doesn’t look at me. “He found out only two days before and didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Sick how?” I ask again this time practically shouting the words.

She finally looks at me. Devastation heavy in her soft blue eyes. “The doctor found a tumor in his brain. He had a lot of tests done when he kept randomly passing out or getting dizzy.”

“I remember that. We were hoping it was him spending too much time on his feet in the hot kitchen.” I laugh awkwardly at the silliness of it all, at how wrong we obviously were. Of course it was worse than we’d thought. My gut twisted the last time he got lightheaded in the shower, the way it did when the cops said what happened to us was probably a case of the wrong place at the wrong time. The bad feelings keep coming and I really want them to be wrong for once.

Nodding her head, she continues. “They didn’t find anything from all the blood tests and then they did a CAT scan. He called me while he was still in the parking lot. He said they didn’t know what kind of tumor it was or if it was cancerous, but it was in a dangerous area which might make surgery an impossible option.”

“He called you but not me,” is all I manage to say. We never kept anything from each other.

“He wanted to. I promise he did. He said you were the first person he thought of when they told him.”

“Then why didn’t he? How many other things was he keeping from me? First the money and now this.”

Her eyes wrinkle in the corners and she appears as lost as I am. “What money?”

“Apparently my husband was a millionaire and didn’t think to tell me.”

Gasping, she lifts her hand to her mouth. “A millionaire? How?”

“His grandma’s money. He was the only one left anything. It makes sense why his family kept coming after his wallet like thieving vultures.” He got everything and they got nothing. They didn’t deserve it. Landon was the only one who took care of his grandmother on her worst days—brought her food and stayed with her in the hospital during the last days of her life. He said if he didn’t, no one else would, and she was like a mother to him. She raised him and his other siblings, but he was the only one who didn’t take her for granted or blame her for their mom running off.

“He didn’t tell me anything about that. He did say if something happened to him, he wanted to make sure you didn’t have a single worry in the world.”

“So much for that.” I lower myself into the closest chair. “Ever since he went missing, all I do is fucking worry.” A prickly sensation in the back of my neck tells me it won’t end anytime soon.

Shifting in her seat, she rests her hands on the table, peering at me with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sure whatever reason he had, it was a good one.”

“I’ll never know what that is now, will I? At least he didn’t take all his secrets to the grave and let me have something.” Doesn’t matter if I don’t want it or not. He was sick. My husband took me on a romantic boat ride to tell me he was sick. Nausea creeps up my throat and I close my eyes, trying to shake it off. This is too much. Losing Landon. All the secrets. The possibility of him not living to see another year whether he got on that boat or not. I was going to lose him anyway, wasn’t I?

“It’s better not to fret on it. All you’ll do is drive yourself insane.”

“Yeah.” Easy for her to say. Not wanting to continue this conversation, I give her what she wants and plaster on a smile. “I’ll call the funeral home tomorrow and we’ll go from there.”

“Good,” she says with a little surprise showing in her brightening gray eyes. She thinks she got through to me and it’s better for her to. I won’t bend so easily but she doesn’t have to know that. I’ll get the truth one way or another. About everything. There won’t be any resting until I do.

“Do you need me to be here when you do?”

“No. I gotta do this alone.”

She nods in understanding, slowly getting to her feet. “Well, you know I’m here if you ever need anything.”

“Yeah . . . thanks.” If only she understood, I don’t know what I need right now. When other people are around it’s too loud and when I’m alone it’s too quiet. Outside is as suffocating as inside. Reminders of Landon are hard to be around but I also have the need to be as close to him as possible. It’s torturous. I’m being pulled in every direction. My thoughts and emotions are coming at each other like a game of tug-of-war. I don’t know which way to go to be okay again.

“I’m your family too,” she says softly.

As if I don’t already know that. She’s the sister Landon and I never had. While I lost touch with my half brother right after our mom died, Landon tried to be close to his siblings. They made it hard, though. His two brothers and sister only came around to cause trouble. Being a foster kid for half my life, I didn’t have to deal with all the family drama he did. I had the opposite problem. He couldn’t get his family to leave him alone, while I was never enough for any of mine to want to keep me around after losing my mom. My brother had his dad, who moved him far away, while I had no one.

“I know, and I’m yours.”

“Don’t ever forget it, asshole.” Smiling, she bends to the floor to grab her purse. “I better go before the sitter calls again. She said something about Danny melting his sister’s Barbie in the microwave. I don’t want him setting the whole house on fire.”

Biting back a chuckle, I get out of my seat and walk her to the door. “I do miss those crazy kids. Bring them with you next time. I’d love to see them.”

“I will.” She pauses in front of the door. “You sure you’re alright taking all those boxes to the attic by yourself?”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I bite the inside of my cheek. “Yeah. I’ll do it a little at a time. There isn’t a whole lot.”

“Okay.” She leans in for a hug and I wrap my arms around her briefly. She gives a quick kiss to my cheek before pulling away and rests a hand on my shoulder. “It really was good seeing you.”

“Yeah, same. You know you’re welcome whenever.”

“You too.” Taking a step back, she opens the door and I watch her walk to her car. She waves before getting in, and when she pulls out a black car I don’t recognize parks where she was. I wasn’t expecting any other company. Wearing a suit with his dark hair slicked back and tie crooked, Detective Samuels steps out, approaching me with a serious expression. “Mr. Pena. I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unannounced but I couldn’t reach you on the phone and thought you’d want to hear this in person.”

With my breathing and heart rate increasing, I nod and lead him into the house. He sits down on the couch and I stay standing. If I feel bigger, I can handle it better, or at least I like to think so. “Did something happen? Did you find out anything about the man who rented us the boat?”

“No. We still can’t locate him unfortunately, or anyone who knows him. The number your husband used to contact him has been disconnected and is untraceable. The boat isn’t registered to anyone either.”

“Then why are you here? Is it regarding Landon’s body?” I ask hopefully, while also preparing myself for more disappointment.

“Yes. We found your husband.”

All the air pulls from my lungs and I fall back into the nearest chair. “Where? When?” I press my palms into my knees. I’ve been waiting for this day and now that it’s here I’m not sure I’m ready for it after all. With my heart a chaotic mess, I can’t stop from shifting in the chair. I’m either too far back, too close to the edge, or sinking in the middle. Comfort is a stranger right now and I don’t recognize it anywhere in the room.

Clearing his throat, he scoots forward, fumbling with the buttons on his jacket. “In the lake, not far from where the boat was.”

“What? But you said y’all searched the whole lake already. I even had friends and neighbors help look. How can that be possible?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Someone placed his body there . . . after.” He takes a breath and I follow the movements of his lips. “After they removed his organs. The body was burned. We weren’t sure it was him until we saw his wedding ring. The one that matches yours. It was—”

My stomach knots. “Hanging from a necklace around his neck. How did you . . . how did you know what mine looked like?”

“When you were in the hospital and in a coma, they showed us where your belongings were, and I noticed the same scripture written on the inside. I’m really sorry, Mr. Pena. It’s clear to us now that this was no accident. Landon was murdered.”

“Why would some sick fuck take his body out of the water and put it back? Who removes someone’s organs?”

He stares down at his hands before meeting my eyes again. “We have reason to believe your husband was a victim of organ trafficking. I think they might have been tracking him beforehand. Got a hold of the results from recent blood tests and x-rays. Your friend told me about him being sick and going to see the doctor a lot. This is the fourth time this year we’ve stumbled upon a case like this. The others were staged as accidents too, with the bodies showing up weeks or months later with missing organs. These people look for men and women from wealthy backgrounds who are in desperate situations. They sometimes have matches picked out ahead of time, so they don’t keep them waiting. We’re thinking they either have access to medical records or know someone who does.”

“Organ trafficking.” My blood goes cold. “Out of all the people in the world they chose my husband. Why?” Some asshole thought their life was more important than his. I bet they paid a pretty penny to have an innocent person tracked and hunted down like some fucking animal so they could continue living out their sorry, selfish life while his was cut short.

“There’s no way of knowing. Sometimes it’s random. They have someone working behind the scenes going off a list they’re given and they call them whenever they have a match.”

“Bastards.” My skin stings as my nails dig into my legs. “What happens now? You’ll go after them, right? Can I see my husband’s body?”

“I . . . It’s kind of hard to go after them when we don’t know who’s behind it all, and these people don’t make themselves easy to find.”

My teeth press together so hard I think they might crack. “So they get away with it then?”

His brows pull tightly together. “Sadly, yes. They’re good at what they do for a reason, and they have sources everywhere. We won’t stop looking into it, that I can promise you.”

“My husband might never get justice. These assholes will just do it to someone else and no one will ever stop them.”

“It’s a messed up world we live in, Mr. Pena. I wish I could tell you everything you wanted to hear, but I’d rather be honest with you so you can move on easier.”

“Move on?” I jump from my seat, pressing my palms to my forehead. “You think I can move on easier knowing my husband’s killers won’t be punished for what they did? They took him from me. Shortened his life. People are out there walking around with organs that should be inside his body, not theirs. They get to be happy when he can’t, all in the name of fucking money.” I pace in front of the table, tugging at the hem of my shirt, my skin wanting to crawl away from my body. “The doctor he used to see. You have to look into all the people who worked there. He had all kinds of tests done recently. It had to start there.”

“We will look into it, but Mr. Pena—”

I tug at my hair, walking in circles. “It had to be someone there. A nurse or doctor. Someone who handles records. What if we’re too late and they aren’t working there anymore? They could be long gone by now and—”

“Mr. Pena,” he says again, this time firmer. “I know this isn’t easy to hear and you’re going through a lot, but you need to let us do our job and the only way we can do that is if—”

“I’m so fucking tired of people saying that. You don’t know shit.” Tears roll down my cheeks and my vision blurs. Everything hurts. My head, my throat, my eyes, but most of all my fucking heart. Deep down in my chest is a wound that won’t heal. It bleeds heavier with each stab of his words. “I’ve been letting you do your job and look what good that’s doing me.” My voice cracks. “So don’t sit here and tell me what I need. What I need is something no one can give me.” Landon. To hold him in my arms again and feel his smile against my lips.

I rub a hand over my stinging eyes, focusing on the pain in my face to distract me from the throbbing pain in my chest. It’s not working, so I press my nails hard into my sockets, needing my misery to come from something else for a little while. Anything else.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. We are doing our best to find out who was behind your husband’s murder. It’s really all we can do. As soon as we find anything else we’ll let you know, but for now I suggest maybe talking to someone. This isn’t something someone should go through alone.”

“I’ll be going through this alone no matter who’s around. My best friend is gone. The man I looked forward to spending the rest of my life with. Talking to someone won’t fill the void in me. I’ll only keep reliving these moments again and again. All I want to do is see my husband. Where is he?”

Standing up slowly, he pulls at the hem of his jacket. “I can take you to him but I have to warn you, seeing him this way might—”

“I don’t care. You still need me to identify him, don’t you?”

His lips pull tightly together and he nods.

“Then I’ll do it tonight.”

“You can drive with me or follow me in your own car. Your choice.”

“I’ll follow you. I’ll meet you outside. I have to get something first.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting in my car.” He heads outside and I rush to my room. I search everywhere until I find the picture of me and Landon at the fair. It was my favorite. We were both smiling while he held a stuffed unicorn in his arms. His face was glowing under the ferris wheel lights, and his eyes were filled with so much joy I could feel it from the photo.

I shove it in my pocket and exit the house. I want it with me for when I need to see him at his best after viewing him at his worst. The man I’m being taken to identify isn’t him anymore. The Landon standing beside me in all our photos with life and love in his eyes was. Not everything between us was a lie. He might have hidden the money and his results from me, but what he felt for me was always right there on the surface.