What Lies Beneath: Romantic Suspense (16 page)

“There’s one other thing,” Theo said. His eyes dropped down. He stared at my hand, tracing the lines of my palm. “I have to leave.”

“Why?”

“It’s best the cops not know that we were involved.”

I couldn’t help noticing how he used the past tense.

“We’re not involved anymore…?”

“We are, but they can’t know we have a romantic relationship. That’s why I need to go away for a time. When the investigation is closed and things calm down, we can see each other again.”

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” I blurted out. I didn’t give Theo a chance to respond. “I don’t blame you for leaving. I would probably do the same if I was in your shoes. You can do better than the trouble I’ve brought into your life.”

“You didn’t bring trouble into my life, or yours. Trouble found you. It’s over now.”

“You don’t know that. What if I keep sleepwalking? What if I remember something else? This could go on for the rest of my life.”

Theo squeezed my hand. “You can’t think like that. It’s over. You were sleepwalking because you wanted to remember, but the stress and trauma that went along with remembering was too much. Now you know the truth. You don’t have to live in fear anymore.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Theo cut off my words with a kiss. When our lips parted, I felt lighter somehow, but also sadder.

“This isn’t the end. I promise.”

EPILOGUE

Six months later

I stared at the dark palette of colors. Maroon, navy blue and forest green paints covered the floor of my new art room. I’d taken over Tom’s old room in the backyard. It was mine now.

At first I felt guilty, but now it was a source of great satisfaction. It was my space; a place where I could go and forget about life. When I painted the world disappeared. At least, most of it did.

I pushed aside the dark paints and selected the pastels. I was painting a park scene. It was similar to Tom’s work, but much lighter in tone. In spite of his insistence that his work was meant to be optimistic, all I could see was death and decay in it.

I turned my head to the side and studied the scene. A mother and son picnicked by a lake on a sunny day. Children played in the background; the sky was a disorienting bluish-purple and full of birds.

It felt like something was missing.

Next to the woman was a blank space on the picnic blanket. I started to paint a man beside her, then stopped.

I heard from Theo sporadically since that night on the bridge. He always spoke briefly from phones he said could not be linked to him. He was worried the police were monitoring my phone records. Several calls from Theo’s personal number would look suspicious.

I didn’t have much to say to him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. I thought about him every day. I just couldn’t talk to him. I felt like he wanted to get far away from me and I didn’t blame him.

After I left the hospital I met with the lawyer Theo recommended. He kept the police at bay, though they were amazingly civil to me, for once. Mrs. Devereaux didn’t exactly confess, but she told the police I’d committed suicide and taken Aiden with me. When they pointed out that we were very much alive, she denied it and kept insisting we were dead. She claimed to see us go into the lake with Tom.

Maddeningly, she didn’t confess to Tom’s death or to being present that night on the bridge. I told the cops the truth about that night. They believed me, but made no move to arrest Mrs. Devereaux. They said it was my word versus hers. There was however enough evidence to put her away for kidnapping, attempted murder and a whole host of other crimes. They warned me that she would probably end up in a mental institution. I’d rather see her in prison, but I was promised it would be a long time before she was released, if ever. It was a small comfort, but at least I wouldn’t have to worry about her- for now.

The police were suspicious of my story about Mr. Devereaux’s death, but once they started digging into his background, they became more sympathetic to me. Mr. Devereaux was hiding more skeleton’s in his closet than I could have ever imagined. He was fired from his job with a Wall Street firm after being accused of attempting to rape the wife of one of his co-workers. He had several arrests in his past including: assault with a deadly weapon, public intoxication, driving under the influence, drugs and more.

The town’s gossip mill was in full force after the events on the bridge. People whispered that he’d attacked a girl a town over, that he was a heavy drug user and that he had several children born to various women in the city and the neighboring towns.

According to Maddie, the town gossip had turned in my favor. People who thought I was a murderer now thought I was a victim of a conspiracy to kill my husband. There were crazy theories that went along with it, including one where Mr. Devereaux and I were lovers and his wife murdered him and tried to frame me out of jealousy.

I did my best to stay above the fray. I was somewhat relieved to know that people didn’t whisper about me being a murderer anymore, but living in town still made me uncomfortable. The bridge was too close for comfort. I didn’t want Aiden to hear any of the rumors about me or his father at school.

And I still didn’t trust myself. Since that night, I haven’t sleepwalked. At least, I don’t think I have. It’s been a cause for concern. I have no way of knowing. I’ve gotten in the habit of checking myself in the morning for any signs that I’ve been outside in the middle of the night. So far, so good; but the weather’s been clear and there are more storms in the forecast.

Instead of adding a man to the painting I decided to add a second child. I painted Bella. I gave her flowing blonde curls and a big smile. She’d gone to live with an aunt. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since that night. I hoped she was happy and well cared for. I had no way of getting in touch with her. I hoped she would reconnect with her brother someday.

I put down my paintbrush and stretched. I walked outside and stared up at the sky. It was unusually dark. Storm clouds were brewing. I held up my hand. Raindrops fell lightly, clinging to the fine hair on the back of my arm.

I bit my lip. This was the kind of weather I sleepwalk in and Jillian wasn’t around to save me. She’d finally had enough of this town and left. While searching her home, they found her pot stash and threatened to charge her with possession if she wasn’t honest with them about everything, including what happened to her two dead husbands. She responded by telling them to fuck off, then skipped town.

As far as I know, they weren’t putting much effort into locating her. I hoped she found a place where she could be happy, but on a totally selfish note, I was scared that she wouldn’t be around to protect me anymore. Would I continue to sleepwalk and end up back in the lake?

The cold I felt at the bottom of the water still hadn’t left me. It was as if the freezing chill had infected me, taking home deep within my bones.

I closed my eyes and let the rain fall on my face. I stood in the yard for a time letting the cold drops fall on me until a sound brought me out of my trance. I opened my eyes to find Theo standing before me. Thinking that I must be hallucinating, I blinked hard.

“Theo?” I said dumbly.

He smiled. “I knocked and you didn’t answer. I figured you were back here. I hope you don’t mind that I came around through the gate. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t startle me. I’m just surprised to see you.”

“A happy surprise, I hope.”

“Of course.”

I ran to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” I confessed.

He squeezed me tightly against his body. The memory of our naked bodies pressed together flooded my mind. I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled clean, like he’d just stepped out of the shower.

“I told you I’d come back.”

“I know. I just-”

“Didn’t believe me?”

I shrugged.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m good.”

“You’ve been painting.”

“How’d you know?”

He reached up and touched my face, wiping a smudge of red paint off. I smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you. And…” He looked up at the sky. “I was worried. You haven’t…”

“No. I don’t think so, anyways. I really have been better, Theo.”

He brushed my hair out of my face.

“I believe you.”

“You’re the only one who ever did believe me.”

I looked down. I hated the way my self-loathing popped up at the worst times. Theo lifted my chin and kissed me.

“Where’s Aiden?” Theo asked.

“He’s at a sleepover. He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Good,” he replied. I raised an eyebrow. “We’ll have the house to ourselves.”

“You think I’m that easy?” I teased.

Theo scooped me up into his arms. I laughed.

“How long are you staying?” I asked.

“Well, when Mrs. Devereaux’s trial is over the case is closed.”

“And we’re free?”

“We’re free.”

I kissed him hard as the rain started to fall in earnest. Theo carried me inside, out of the storm. As he undressed me, I let myself dream about a future where we lived together as a happy family. It may have been too early to hope for so much, but I couldn’t help myself.

For a second, I let myself imagine happily ever after.

As Theo threw me down on the bed, I looked out the window. A loving home, a loving husband, a happy family, they were all possible- as long as we could keep the storm clouds at bay.

The End

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