After #3
“And so you fucked other women?” He flinched—and boy, was it satisfying. “Because you don’t like the Hamptons?”
His eyes stayed on his hands, now in his lap.
“I don’t know, maybe my childhood…I probably needed a real therapist. Not a corporate coach.
” He paused. “It was only that one time, all those years ago. And for the life of me now, I can’t explain why, but I thought it would make it easier to breathe. I don’t even remember her name.”
Gretchen didn’t realize she was crying until a tear dripped onto her skirt.
She wiped at her eyes, pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.
“That makes it so much better,” she whispered.
She needed to finish now, to get him to tell her the rest of it.
“And Frankie, Richard? The watch, the dinner, you were texting her. I saw the messages.”
His eyes shot up to hers, but he seemed to think better of whatever ludicrous complaint he was about to make about an invasion of his privacy.
“Nothing happened between us. Not like a hotel or anything like that. It was all make-believe. I got swept up in the…flirtation, the possibility, that’s all. ”
“That’s all, huh?” Gretchen said quietly. “That and a hundred-and-sixty-seven-thousand-dollar watch.” She was no longer crying. Her face felt like a dried husk.
“She just—being around her made me feel alive, and young. Like there was still time for me to be whoever I wanted to be…”
“An artist?” Gretchen didn’t try to hide the disdain she felt.
Richard looked wounded now, and a little embarrassed.
“Something like that, I guess.” He paused.
“But I never gave her the watch! I realized it was stupid and impulsive. I didn’t want to give it to her.
I should have just returned it, but then I thought if anyone deserved a gift—it was you.
I love you, Gretchen. I’ve loved you since the second we met. ”
Richard looked stricken. He could see the damage he had done. Actually, he looked afraid—not sad or remorseful or heartbroken or guilty. He looked terrified.
“You’re worried that I won’t help you with your case, aren’t you?”
He made a face, then exhaled sharply. “Maybe I deserve that.”
“You do,” Gretchen said calmly. “The fact that Frankie was beautiful probably didn’t hurt, either.”
“No one will ever be as beautiful to me as you. No one.”
“Oh, shut up, Richard,” she snapped. “This is insulting to my intelligence. And nauseating, frankly. You know, when I went to that restaurant where you had dinner, they said you were obsessed with her.”
“Obsessed? That’s not true,” he said. “It’s not.”
“But her friend, that restaurant woman, will eventually tell the police that, you know.”
“She was being stalked, but it was some ex-boyfriend. He even took photos—”
“Good God, stop talking.”
“Anyway, he’s definitely the one who did this.” He paused. “Unless, I mean…”
“Don’t say another word, Richard,” she said, glancing around the room full of people.
“I don’t know,” he said, eyeing her pointedly. “People do all sorts of things, for all kinds of reasons, especially when they’re upset. Everyone has a breaking point, Gretchen.”
“What are you suggesting?”
He motioned for her to lower her voice. “I know about her studio.” Now it was his turn to look around, conscious, it seemed, of not saying too much. “That’s part of how I ended up here. You know—my pants?” He raised his eyebrows.
“What the hell do the pants have to do with me?”
“Come on. I found the paint. The damage to Frankie’s studio? I know it was you.”
“Richard, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We can leave it,” Richard said. “We should leave it while we’re in this place. I’m just saying: You and I both know there’s more to this situation.”
“No, Richard, I do not know. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She glared at him.
They were quiet for a long moment.
“How bad is this situation, Richard?” Gretchen asked finally.
Richard gestured to the Rikers visiting room. “I mean, I’d say the situation is not great.”
She wasn’t going to let him wriggle away like that. This wasn’t a game. She leaned in and lowered her voice.
“Just yes or no.” She was asking whether he’d done it, without saying the words.
“I am here. And I will agree to stay here, for the sake of our children, for the duration of this situation. Provided you tell me the truth right now. If I find something out later, I will leave. I mean it. Even if it hurts your case. Maybe I will even leave in such a way as to be sure it does.”
Richard’s face moved through anger to sadness, then settled on resignation. And in the silence, it was impossible for Gretchen to breathe.
“I did not kill Frankie,” Richard said. And there was a look on his face, a knowing look—that was the word that came to mind.
“Did I have a crush? Maybe. Did I cross a line with her? I think you would probably feel I did. I’m not proud of that.
And I am sorry, truly. I’m going to make it up to you if I get that chance.
But, in this situation, I’d say there’s been a fair amount of bad judgment to go around. ”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gretchen noticed she was gripping the sides of her chair. She forced herself to let go.
Richard shrugged. “It means even the most perfect people can let their anger get the best of them, Gretchen. Even you.”