Chapter 9
Things with Lance ended on a friendly note that afternoon. When they finished their lunch and her sketch of him, they exchanged numbers and planned to meet for another lunch again soon.
Willow felt good about getting out for a friendly exchange. He was fun to talk to, and she didn’t have many friends on the island other than Brandi, so she was excited to have met someone new.
When she got back to the cottage though, a lot of her excitement died down. She didn’t feel depressed, but she didn’t feel like being inside either. Her inspiration was at an all-time high and Willow felt she needed to do something with it before she lost it again.
After packing herself a food cooler with wine, she got her beach bag, grabbed her sketchbook and headed for the beach. The sun wasn’t far from setting, so it was cooler out, and the perfect ambiance for her to dive deeper into her art.
I want to sketch something significant to my life right now. Something empowering—not only to me, but to any woman who’s gone through a separation. Something about leaving an old life behind and starting over. This does suck though, leaving behind something I never thought I would. I should be here with my husband. The one person who promised to be there for me. Except he’s completely cut off contact with me. He doesn’t answer my calls or texts. Brandi’s right. I deserve more than this.
Willow sat in the sand for a while before she finally got the urge to move her pencil across her page. She started out with a simple heart that slowly transitioned into a more intricate one.
She wanted to give it the illusion of a beat, but also a breaking effect. Something to depict her coming out of heartbreak. Those were her feelings, but she couldn’t quite get it down on paper as quickly as she thought about it.
“Wow, nice drawing.”
Richy, the true crime addict, startled her a little. He came out of nowhere and invited himself to sit with her. He was alone this time, and the beach wasn”t as crowded as it was earlier during the week.
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s not even remotely close to what I saw in my head, but I think it’ll get there with some work. Slowly but surely.”
“It’s a lot better than what I can do, that’s for sure. Do you mind if I…?”
“Sure.”
Richy sat and watched in silence as she sketched away. For a while, they both sat without saying a word. Willow was so focused on getting her thoughts down on paper that she forgot all about the strange encounter they’d had the first time they met.
When she remembered, however, she was instantly curious, but she didn’t know how to bring it up in conversation. To be honest, she didn’t know if she wanted to say anything about it at all. What if Richy did recognize her husband? What if Charlie was actually named Greg and had a criminal past? How would that make her look?
“Hey,” she said. “Remember when you said you thought my husband was a guy named Greg? Why did you think that?”
“Oh well, I… if I remember him correctly, they look very alike,” Richy stuttered on his words. “I mean, his hair was a different color and he wasn’t wearing glasses like Greg does, but they really are a spitting image. No one has seen the guy around here since, but he is still wanted.”
Wanted? Willow thought to herself. Now there’s no way this kid knows what he’s talking about. Charlie isn’t a wanted man. Not by the police, anyway. Or is he? I mean, Charlie has been very secretive lately and doesn’t really like being seen in public. But that could mean anything… right?
Her wheels started to spin even more. She wondered if what Richy said could be true. Is that why Charlie shut her down every time she suggested coming to Sanibel? She had found an empty bottle of hair dye in Charlie”s trash once before. She thought it was because he wanted to conceal his grays, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“What if he is your husband?” Richy asked.
“I don’t think so,” Willow chuckled. “It can’t be. I would have known something was up.”
“Not if he changed his identity.”
Richy shrugged as if he was totally convinced. He wore a strict poker face and worded his concerns in such a manner that made Willow question everything she thought she knew.
“How can a person change their identity and the people they’re close to know nothing about it?” she asked. “That just doesn”t seem possible to me.”
“Maybe you just don’t know him well enough,” Richy shrugged again. “If he’s a criminal who’s gotten away with his crimes for years, don’t you think he knows how to keep getting away with it?”
The deeper their conversation grew, the more she started to see the potential in the conspiracy, and the more questions she had. Most of those questions didn’t make it into the conversation because she didn’t want to believe he was right. But the more they spoke, the more suspicious she grew of Charlie.
He seems very convinced that he knows who Charlie really is. Should I ask Brandi to run that background check on him that she’s been asking to do for years? I’m so nervous to find out the truth is anything other than what Charlie told me. Ugh! Why me? I’m already going through enough and here comes this kid telling me my husband isn’t really who he says he is? Go figure.
“I don’t know, kid,” she says. “I think I would know if he was hiding something like that. I’ve met his whole family… nothing seems off about them either.”
“I can show you my research if you want,” Richy said. “I think you might have a change of heart. Like your picture. Change of heart.”
He’s a wordy little thing, isn’t he? Change of heart. I was thinking of a caption for my picture and change of heart is pretty fitting. Not only is he smart, but he’s also clever.
“Okay.” She nodded. “Sure, I”d like to see it. And if you’re wrong, you owe me lunch.”
“Okay!” He smiled widely. “And what if I’m right?”
Willow didn’t want to think about him being right at all. She wanted to believe this kid had the wrong guy and Greg was someone else she had no connection to. But what if he was right? Her nerves were in knots, trying to think of what she would do if it came down to that.
“If you’re right, then I”ll buy you lunch,” she said.
“Deal!”
His excitement kind of made her feel like maybe he was pulling her leg.
“Okay, enough about Greg. Or whoever,” she said. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“I don’t know.”
Richy dug his feet into the sand. She noticed it was something he did whenever he felt nervous or bashful, maybe.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Don’t you have at least one friend who wants to hang out with you?”
“Well, yeah. But he doesn’t like coming to the beach. We mostly hang out in his room, piecing together unsolved mysteries. Stuff like that. I like to do more than that though, so I come to the beach to blow off steam sometimes.”
Willow surely loved to go to the beach to blow off steam. So, she understood where he was coming from. The beach was a great place to go and relax, think about life, and plan for the future.
“What are you like, a journalist or something?” she asked.
“No, but I do want to get into it when I get out of school. I asked my mom to enroll me into some early college classes, but she doesn”t care about that stuff. She wants me to get a job so I can help out with bills around the house.”
Willow felt a sting in her heart when he talked about his home life. She couldn’t imagine her parents not supporting something that meant a lot to her. When she was younger, she had their full support in whatever she wanted to do, as long as it was something positive. Fortunately, her parents never made her pay for anything while she was living with them or at college. She couldn’t even imagine working a job to support herself. Thinking about it now, she had actually never worked a job, and she felt kind of guilty for that.
“Aw, well, that’s kind of cruel. Your mom should be encouraging you to finish school, get a degree, all that good stuff. What about your dad?”
Richy went silent when she asked about his dad. She noticed the terrified look on his face right away and was concerned for him. Dads could be tough. She wondered if his dad played a part in why he was so addicted to solving crimes.
“My dad’s a jerk,” he spat. “Doesn’t really do much at the house. He’s always drunk and bossing me and Mom around like he owns the place. I keep telling her we need to leave and move somewhere far away where he can’t find us. But she never listens to me. She’s too scared of him.”
Never having to deal with that, Willow didn’t know what to say to comfort Richy. All she knew how to do was give words of encouragement that she felt he’d probably heard a thousand times before.
She felt bad for him. It sounded like he had had a hard life already, and he was still so young. But, on a positive note, she liked the fact that he knew what he wanted to do when he finished school.
“Do you have any other family that you could stay with for a while?” Willow asked. “Maybe going for a little vacation might shed some light on your parents and make them want to do things differently. Or having a talk with your dad about his drinking?”
“Yeah right,” Richy scoffed. “No one can talk to him. Not even Tommy.”
“Who”s Tommy?”
“Tommy’s the sheriff. He keeps me sane most days because he knows how my dad is. He’s had to arrest him so many times for being drunk and disorderly. It’s not even funny.”
Their talk carried on until sunset and it was time for them to pack it up and leave. She offered Richy a ride home afterward, but he declined. He said his parents didn’t like him bringing anyone to their house.
When he was gone, she worried about him. She wondered what his home looked like, or if he even really had a home. Most importantly, she thought about whoever Greg was and wondered if Richy made him up. After hearing about his imperfect home life, it made sense that he would make up drastic stories for attention.