Chapter 11
CHAPTER
Lucinda
The Present
I HAD JUST SPENT the last three hours going over my alibi statement with Glynn. He had grilled me within an inch of my life, yet even he was impressed with how calm and unruffled I remained. My story never wavered.
No one would know that every word was a complete lie.
I thought I’d be more exhausted afterward, yet there was something exhilarating about telling a story that others believed, even when it was all bullshit.
As I was leaving I ran into Alison Schaffer, my old high school friend who was now married to Rhett’s friend Caleb. We hadn’t spoken in years. After everything that had happened with Jenn, she, like many of my old friends, kept a wide berth.
My last name may have saved me from becoming a suspect, but it had cost me a lot of friendships.
“Hi, Al,” I called out when I realized she was coming over to speak to me.
“I heard about Rhett,” she said by way of greeting. She didn’t even bother with a hello. She never had been great in the whole manners department.
“I’m sure you have.” I didn’t bother to smile or be polite. What was the point?
“You know everyone thinks he did it,” Alison said with a shrug. “And that your dad covered it up.”
I suppressed a sigh. Alison had always been a shit stirrer. And she never minced words. She used to say that she had no filter. I thought that was just her excuse to be a bitch.
“That’s ridiculous,” I told her tiredly.
“Just tellin’ you what everyone is sayin’.” Alison hadn’t aged well. Five kids and a husband that drank every night did that to a woman. She looked haggard and bitter. “I said it then and I’ll say it now, that girl got what was comin’ to her.”
I glanced around, surprised Alison would be voicing such an awful thing out in the open. “I don’t think that’s fair—”
Alison licked her dry, cracked lips. “I hated how she came to town and acted like everything belonged to her, even the guys. Jeremy went crazy over her. Caleb, too, if I’m bein’ honest. Fern River is no place for someone like that.
It was disgusting how Rhett took up with her with no thought to anyone else. It’s no shock she ended up dead.”
Her words were spiteful and I recoiled slightly at the hostility she exuded.
I had always suspected she had a crush on Rhett, and it seemed my instincts were right. Alison was your typical small-town mean girl with even smaller opinions.
Not wanting to enter into any sort of talk about Rhett and his upcoming murder trial, I made an excuse to leave and headed home.
Leaving the house probably wasn’t a good idea when that was what I had to put up with when I did.
Now, I was alone for the first time since Rhett had been released. Actually, it was the first time I had been alone at my parents’ house since I was a teenager. It felt strange rambling around the big house, seeing pictures lining the walls that commemorated every step of my life.
Staying in my childhood bedroom, it was so easy to hand over the reins to my parents. But I knew if I was going to survive what came next, I had to keep as much control as I could.
I was no longer Lucy Herbaugh, beauty queen, straight-A student, devoted girlfriend, then fiancée, then wife of Rhett Clark.
Now I was someone different. Someone darker. Someone angrier.
I knew Rhett hated being here and on some twisted level, I enjoyed his discomfort.
Protecting family was the most important thing to my dad.
He was ruthless in ensuring his girls were taken care of.
He may be formidable, he may be scary at times, but I never doubted his love for us, or his drive to protect his reputation.
They were both all wrapped up in each other.
I wished Rhett had even a fraction of my father’s loyalty. But one thing I had learned about my husband over the years is that he protected his own feelings first and foremost.
Now our marriage was strained to the point of breaking. Rhett and I existed side by side in a facsimile of how our life used to be.
On the outside, everything looked normal.
But inside, we were decaying more and more each day.
Rhett wasn’t the only one trapped in a life he couldn’t get out of. He thought I was his jailor, but in truth, he was mine. The specter of the man I wanted him to be kept me frozen in place, too afraid to leave. I hated that I still hoped he’d love me in the way I thought he used to.
That one day I’d be enough.
Rhett and I hadn’t really spoken since the day of his bail hearing. Our conversations lived entirely in the realm of his attorney’s office.
Within these walls we interacted with McKenzie, but never each other.
We slept side by side in bed every night, but didn’t touch.
There was a wall between us that neither of us were in a hurry to climb.
Rhett seemed terrified—his fate held in the balance. But his terror wasn’t for what he’d leave behind. It wasn’t for the life of his wife and daughter, who would forever be tainted by association. He didn’t, for one moment, consider the ramifications of this on anyone but himself.
Rhett was still at Glynn’s office preparing for his preliminary hearing, which was scheduled for two weeks away.
I had claimed I wasn’t feeling well, so left after my part was over.
McKenzie was spending the day with my mother, who had swooped in, once again, to play surrogate parent to my child, who was becoming more and more reliant on her grandmother as her primary caregiver.
It didn’t feel great. As if I were unable to perform the two roles I was supposed to inherently do well. Being a mother, and being a wife.
Yet I couldn’t ignore how relieved I was to be by myself. Away from the parody of marriage and motherhood for a little while.
I let myself out onto my parent’s expansive back patio.
It was made of decorative brick that curved and swept along the length of the backyard in perfect harmonious lines.
An outdoor kitchen had been built off to the side that I was pretty sure Mom and Dad had never even used.
A hot tub was tucked away, hidden behind large butterfly bushes, housed within a gazebo of glass and wood.
My much smaller home felt inadequate when compared to the tastefully designed and decorated home of Clifford and Mabel Herbaugh. I thought I had assembled something different for my life, but it seemed my world was only a smaller, less impressive version of my parents’.
Nothing came free for a Herbaugh. Not love. Not affection. Not respect. We had our parts to play, and we all did so perfectly. The alternative was something too horrible to think about.
Being back here, wandering the grounds as I had done as a child, I felt the same desperate longing for validation I once had. A longing that had never really gone away.
I thought I had done everything right, yet I had failed spectacularly at the same time.
The air had an unseasonal chill to it, and I had forgotten to put on a jacket.
I reached behind one of the ornate planters filled with my mother’s begonias and found the pack of cigarettes I had hidden there months ago during one of our visits.
My secret vice reared its head most often when I was with my parents, and I was thankful for my foresight now.
I fished the lighter from the half-full box and lit one, taking a deep drag into my lungs. It was a nasty habit that I hid very, very well. Not even Rhett knew how, when I was particularly stressed, I snuck away to have a smoke. Or two. Or three.
I blew out the smoke, watching it drift away into nothing.
I stared down at my phone, opened my contacts and scrolled down until I reached the one labeled “Rabbit.” My thumb hovered over the screen.
It was a cyclical pattern.
Think about calling.
Talk myself out of it.
Berate myself for not deleting the number years ago, the guilt clawing up my insides.
A few months later, I’d think about calling again. And eventually I’d cave. The connection was important to keep, and I was careful about never crossing the line I had drawn in the sand. But I needed to know I still had a key to my prison cell out there.
But this time was different. The need was bordering on anguish.
What would Rhett say if he knew? Why did I still feel horrible at the thought of his pain after everything he’d done?
I read the last message I had received and felt something like relief.
Rabbit: I’m still here. You don’t need to keep checking up on me.
Me: I’m trusting you. I hope it’s not misguided.
Rabbit: I’m not going anywhere. Your monthly gifts make sure of that.
That was from four months ago. My misgivings were evident, yet I took solace in the fact that I was the one calling the shots. The dynamic was hard won, but the battle had been worth it.
I knew I was being incredibly self-destructive by holding onto this. But it was my favorite flavor of mistake.
I stubbed out the cigarette and hid it beneath a planter. I stood up to go inside when I saw the gate at the side of the house slowly open.
Feeling a flash of irrational fear, I looked around for a weapon, settling on a heavy rock at my feet.
Jenn Moore’s tear-soaked face flashed through my mind. Dirt mixing with blood on her goose-pimpled flesh.
No, I would not think about that.
The gate pushed open, revealing who it was, and I dropped the large rock. It landed in the decorative pea gravel with a thud.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking around Mom and Dad’s backyard?” I demanded, trying to get my breathing under control. I watched as my baby sister jumped, clearly not expecting to find me here.
“You scared the life out of me,” she shrieked, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Scared you? I’m not the one prowling around like a burglar. Why wouldn’t you ring the doorbell like a normal person? And more importantly, why aren’t you at work?” I glared at her, feeling perturbed.