Chapter 38
CLINT CHECKS HIS WATCH AND SCOWLS.
“It’s getting late; we still need to pack and probably think about dinner.” I glance toward the kitchen.
“We could still leave tonight and likely drive around in the dark looking for this cabin. But how about if instead we eat dinner, pack things up, and then we can pick up Reid on our way to the cabin in the morning?” He looks back and forth between us both.
“Fine with me.” Erika scoops up her laptop. “Not like we’re on the run or anything.”
Her words make me freeze. My fingers go instantly cold. I make fists, tucking them under my thumbs, trying to warm them. No, we’re not on the run, but should we be?
“We’ve got that chili in the freezer.” Clint walks toward the kitchen.
“I’ll, uh, whip up some corn muffins, so why don’t we eat in about half an hour?” I can’t let irrational fear take over.
Erika nods and then shuffles from the room, her laptop hugged to her chest. “Back in a sec.”
Alone in the kitchen with Clint, I can’t help but press on his memory of Candy. “I had no idea someone else was involved in your brother abandoning you and your mom.”
“And stealing from her.” He then shrugs as he digs in the freezer. “Actually, I really don’t know how much she was involved. But Candy was all my brother could talk about. He was always trying to impress her. I guess not so shocking they married, but you said it was recent?”
“Yeah. Military came first, I think. Did you know she joined up?”
He walks to the microwave. “I guess again, not surprising. She never talked about college. Her dad wasn’t active duty when they moved to Windham, but the whole family breathed military. I think at least two of the older brothers were Marines.”
“Interesting she went Air Force.” I arrange cheese slices on a small platter of crackers to give Clint and me something to nibble on while I make the corn bread.
“Her version of defying her father?” Clint shrugs.
As I continue to ask him basic questions about Candy but avoid any more talk of Lucas, my mind is whirring on Betsey.
Is there a connection between these two women that I missed?
Maybe there’s a reason no sign of Betsey was ever found at the New York Stock Exchange.
My arm aches as I beat the gritty cornmeal.
I open my mouth and then close it. I avoid telling Clint about the mess at Garman Straub only because we all need to eat. This is what I tell myself.
After dinner, we volunteer Erika to clean the dishes.
“You heading to your office?” Clint says almost over his shoulder as he heads upstairs.
Is that his way of telling me he still needs space?
“I’d like to talk for a bit.” I try to keep my tone light.
“I’ve got nothing more to say about Candy.” He plods up the stairs.
“Not her.” I remain on the landing.
“Or Lucas,” he says.
“Something else.” I shove my hair behind my ears.
“I want to finish packing.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s like we can act like we’re going to be okay for only so long. The rubber band stretches and stretches. Then, like now, it releases and slaps back into my face.
“Come up, let’s talk,” he says but doesn’t turn, just continues up the steps.
I stifle a sigh. I’ve become a wife who waits for an invite from her husband to come to her own bedroom.
“Do I need to sit down for this?” Clint says as we walk into our room.
Without the light from the large windows overlooking the huge oaks in the backyard, the room feels cold. “Maybe.”
He nods slowly as he sits in our white upholstered chair with faint blue lines. I perch opposite him on the bed bench.
“I signed a restraining order against Betsey on Monday.”
“Betsey, your sales manager?” His face looks like I’ve gone a bit mad.
“Yes. She was confronted here on Sunday, when we were . . . well, when we were supposed to be hiking.”
“But you shot up to Rhode Island instead,” he spits out and then takes a breath. He still hasn’t forgiven me for fleeing.
We’d never argued with venom like that before. I panicked at who we were—a husband and wife who tore into each other. But I never should have given him the space he said he wanted.
“What do you mean she was confronted? By the police? Why didn’t you tell me?” He waves his hands in obvious frustration.
“No police. Firm wanted to keep it in-house.”
“In-house. Whatever. Why didn’t you tell the officers that were here today? Did she have anything to do with the garage and car?” Clint runs his hands through his hair.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, you know her. Seem like something she would do?”
“No, but I also wouldn’t think you’d file a restraining order against her. What happened?”
I sigh. He’s right, and he’s not going to like any of this. “Candace and the team came to talk to Betsey. Calls were made. Garman Straub thought Betsey could be reasoned with. Like maybe firing her would settle her down.”
“But I don’t understand why she was here, and how they knew.” Clint scowls at me.
“She’d been acting erratically all week.
She’d blown off a conference she was supposed to speak at and stirred up the sales team by visiting advisors, unannounced.
Apparently, while she was waiting for me to get home, she made calls to others on my team.
A couple of them got alarmed by how desperate she seemed, and the security team was asked to swing by.
They called me Sunday night after we got back. ”
Clint nods. “The night I didn’t come home.”
This fact has burrowed deep inside me, and then to hear he was out so late last night . . . have I lost him? I open my mouth to finally ask where he went on Sunday.
“Let’s swing back to Betsey. What are we dealing with, Mer?”
I bite down on my lips and then answer him.
“When I finally got back here to my phone—can’t believe I left it on the kitchen counter—Hardwin asked me to let it lie for the night.
They had me block her. Anyway, things escalated fast. At one point I thought she trashed my office.
Hardwin had me sign the order Monday morning. ”
“Wow. You have to tell the police.”
“There’s more.” I take a breath. “Betsey defied the order and came to the bell ringing. She had a package delivered to me. Client data no one should have.”
“Why would she do that?”
“That’s the question. She’s given me until Friday to turn over information about our securities lending agreement or she’ll come at you about Lucas.” Simmering it all down to the basics, I wonder: What if her demand is a distraction to keep me from discovering what she’s really up to?
“She’s extorting you.” The pain on Clint’s face makes me look away. “That’s why you told me about Lucas.”
“Not the only reason, but yes.” I spin my wedding ring around on my finger. The diamond catches the light, and a rainbow dances across the parquet floor.
“I’m going to put a pin in all the secrets you’ve been keeping from me—”
“To protect you. I needed to figure—”
“No.” He slams up from his chair. “No. We’re partners. You don’t get to decide not to tell me what threatens you and our family. Because . . . oh.” He slowly sits.
“What?”
“On the car—times up bc.” Clint squints at me. “That could be Betsey Comarsh. She’s telling you time’s up to give her what she wants.”
“I thought of that, but the timing is off.”
“Of course, you thought of it but kept it to yourself. You never even mentioned it to the police. There could be a significant threat to our family out there, and you neglected to tell any of us.”
I hang my head. How ridiculous everything I’ve done sounds when it comes out of his mouth. “I’m sorry. It just didn’t seem like something Betsey would do. I wanted them to focus on the Danny guy and now this MJ. I’ve been more worried about Erika. The timing of all this has been excruciating.”
He slumps back into his chair, staring past me.
“I needed time to tell you.”
We sit in silence until he finally leans forward.
His lips I’ve kissed a thousand times are set in a hard line.
We vowed to do this life together. I’ve made so many mistakes, including not trusting him with the truth, and he’s disappointed me—refusing to believe my love for him and harboring all this pain of the past. We both have to be willing to forgive.
Something he refuses to offer his brother.
Maybe he has nothing left for me either.
He holds out his hands.
I stare at them like they might be a trap.
“It’s okay,” he says.
I slide my cold fingers onto his warm palms.
“Do you want me?” His eyes find mine.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“No more secrets. No more deciding what I can or can’t handle.”
“Yes. I promise.” The ease of the words masks the complexity of willingly opening myself up to what he might not want to see. “I love you.”
He drops one of my hands and reaches toward my face. His fingers brush my temple as he wipes a lock of hair that has fallen in front of my eye. “You’re so beautiful, so smart. I just don’t see why—”
I drop to my knees and grip his face, placing my fingertips against the lines extending from his troubled eyes.
“You have to believe me. We won’t survive without your trust in my love.
Twenty years . . . they will always separate us.
I will never catch up. But I love the man you are and who you will become.
” I take a small breath. “Don’t let the years divide us.
We made vows knowing we’d never bridge the gap, so we promised to always celebrate it. You have to stop questioning.”
Clint sucks in his lips as he leans his face into my hands. “Why do you never age?”
I press up and snuggle into his lap. “You complain because you have a younger wife who adores you?”
His arms wrap me as I feel the rumble of laughter in his chest. “A beautiful wife who loves the old man.”
I kiss his neck. “I do love you. We will both continue to get older together.” I whisper up into his ear, “Enjoy me.”
His eyes widen as he pulls back to look into mine.
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Want to—”
“Oh yes.” He scoops me under my legs, bolts from the chair, and tosses me on the bed.