“You mentioned Penny wasn’t at the funeral, but I recall Frannie saying Penny left shortly after. Do you think you can remember exactly?”
I feel like a fucking therapist asking a victim to remember her attacker or what was going on around her. A quick glance at Evan assures me that he’s okay with my line of questioning. If he weren’t, he’d tell me to cool it for the night. He is, without a doubt, protective of Ryley and isn’t afraid to assert himself where she’s concerned. I feel the same way about Penny and I know I’d be acting the same as Evan, especially since there’s already been an attempt on Ryley’s life.
“I’ll be right back,” she says as she stands and walks out of the room, leaving Evan and I.
“Where’s she going?”
“Dunno, bathroom maybe?” Evan says with a shrug.
There’s an awkward silence between us, but it has nothing to do with a lack of conversation. The shit we’ve been discussing tonight is hard and weighs heavily on us. We’ve been through hell and back, lived to tell people who care to listen about it, but have nothing to show for it except our lives … which in the grand scheme of things is better than nothing.
Ryley returns with a shoebox and sits down in the same spot. “There are things I remember and there are some things I think happened. Like I said, I was in a fog. My life, as I knew it, was gone. I was that young girl who had based every adult decision around Evan, only to be left pregnant and alone. So when he died … part of me died, too, and I didn’t cope very well. Long nights of watching home videos and sleeping in his clothes on the couch was what my life entailed. I had this amazing group of people surrounding me, making sure I didn’t lose EJ, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t missing Penny.
“After about a month or so, pictures started arriving from the funerals. I found it odd that someone was taking pictures, but they were military funerals and those are often shared everywhere, so it didn’t really mean anything out of the ordinary. I looked at them until Nate put them in a box, saying they weren’t helping the healing process.” Ryley lifts the box that’s sitting on her lap.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Evan asks her, his voice soft and caring. This is a side o
f Evan I rarely see. When we’re together, we’re always strong, never showing any type of weakness.
“I forgot about them until Tucker asked if I was sure Penny missed his funeral.”
Ryley lifts the lid, and I have to fight my instincts to yank the box away from her to look at the contents myself. Ryley pulls out four stacks of photos, each one tied in navy blue ribbon. It only takes her a second to grab the stack she’s looking for. Everything she’s doing is painstaking slow and hidden from my view. Evan isn’t watching either as his eyes are focused on the wall in front of him. It’s fucking morbid to see pictures from your own funeral, and if I didn’t know any better I’d think I’m having an out of body experience.
“Years ago I’d say these are the images from your funeral. I don’t remember Penny or Claire being there, but I don’t remember much from those first few days. She’s not in the pictures here.” She hands me the stack and I take them without breaking eye contact with her. I don’t want to see what’s on them because the heartbreak of knowing my wife wasn’t at my funeral is a lot to bear. I should look because there may be a clue in one of the photos. Not that I’d know what I’m looking for.
“Who took my flag?” I ask as I thumb through each picture. I have very little family, having been raised by my grandmother. I got word while deployed that she had died and that Penny had followed her wishes for cremation. Sitting here now I don’t even know if that’s true or not.
“I don’t know,” Ryley says, shaking her head. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry, Tucker.” She sets her hand on my wrist and gives it a squeeze.
I nod, letting her know it’s okay even though she realizes none of this is far from being all right. I’m not sure any of us will ever feel normal again, or feel like we don’t have to watch our backs.
“Do you know anything about my grandmother?” I ask, hoping that Ryley may know something.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“While we were deployed, Penny … Frannie wrote, well typed a letter saying that she had died. Knowing what we know about the lies, I guess I’m wondering if that’s even true.”
“I don’t. Frannie really never discussed you or Justin, once we buried you guys. After a while we stopped talking about you all together. It was too hard.”
Evan stands and starts pacing. His hands are pulling at the ends of his hair and he’s muttering to himself. There’s something on his mind, but he’s not ready to tell us about it yet. I’ve seen this from him before.
“Evan?” Ryley says his name only for him to hold up his hand. When he finally drops it, it’s a pissed off Evan Archer staring back at me.
“What?” I question, eager to know what he’s thinking.
“We have to find Frannie.”
“Isn’t she dead?” It’s more of a statement than fact. I think we’re all hoping she’s alive, but we don’t know.
He shakes his head. “I don’t believe she is and she has all the answers. She knows where Penny and Claire are.”
I stand slowly as I match his posture.
“Frannie sent you pictures of Claire. Hell, she sent you report cards with teacher’s comments. She’s either a fucking whiz on the computer with age progression, has some really deep ties, or knows where your wife is and is able to get pictures of Claire. I give Frannie a lot of credit, but she assumed the lives of so many people, writing out comments about Claire and not repeating herself would be almost impossible.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Frannie is the key, which ties everything together. But if the Feds haven’t found her, how will I? My resources are that of a gnat.
“Babe, did Frannie ever take vacations while we were gone?” Evan asks Ryley, who is now standing right along with us.