Tucker’s words cause me to sob into his shoulder. Instead of yelling, he holds me, rubbing his hand up and down my back while trying to soothe me. Any other guy would leave, throw shit around the house and slam the door, but not Tucker.
Not in this situation.
RAINDROPS FALL AGAINST THE window of the plane as we land in Washington. Of all the days, today is not the one I want to see rain. My already somber mood is only getting worse as I stare at the gray sky with no hint of sun.
I yawn and stretch as the plane taxis and rouse Nate who is sleeping next to me. Ryley and Evan flew back to San Diego to get EJ right after the funeral, while we stayed behind for a few more days. Rask, Cara, and River are across the aisle and he, too, is looking outside. Cara has been glued to him since we found him in the woods; of course she did the same thing to me, especially when we had to fly. Cara is good like that—making sure we’re getting justice the fair way. Technically, Rask, River, and myself should be handcuffed, but Cara didn’t bother with that shit this time.
I have a feeling she’s making River testify against Lawson, which isn’t a bad idea. I don’t care what he does after he spills his guts about his wife. He needs to give us something. He needs to prove that we can trust him again.
Leaving Penny and Claire was not my idea, but hers and one I had to accept. I could push for a relationship with Claire, but my gut tells me that I’ll only damage the foundation. She lost the only father she remembers and if I come in all guns blazing I’ll look like a damn fool. Even though it killed me to leave them behind, I did so knowing there’s a security detail in place until after Lawson’s trial is over.
While we were in Vermont, Cara got word that his trial date was being moved up. She didn’t know why, but had a feeling that it had to do with Frannie’s death. Without her to testify against him, even though we know she would’ve never done that, the defense feels like the Feds’ case is weak. The only problem with their theory is that they don’t know we have River, which again leads me to believe he knows more than he’s telling.
The plane comes to a stop and everyone rushes to stand up and push open the overhead storage, then they proceed to stand there and huff while the people in front of them do the same thing. So many people lack plane etiquette.
Nate finally stands and stretches, his head not far from the top of the plane. He leans down and says something to Cara, causing me to turn away. They’re sweet to each other and it sends a pang of longing into my heart. Penny and I were once like that and I can only hope we get back there someday. And if not, I suppose I can try to find it with someone else.
Once we’re off the plane, a car is waiting to take us back to Evan’s. I don’t know how long I plan to stay; this rainy weather isn’t for me and I miss the beach. Plus, Lawson is in California and that is where I want to be. I plan to keep my eye on that piece of shit and watch every move he makes. And I want him to know I’m there. Being in Washington doesn’t afford me the ability to scare the shit out of him.
As soon as we pull into Evan and Ryley’s, EJ comes running out. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees River. An expression of confusion takes over his features as he stands there and stares at a ghost. It’s about a full minute before he turns and runs back into the house yelling for Ryley.
“Yeah I’d run, too, buddy,” I mumble under my breath. I don’t care if River can hear me; right now I’m not his friend.
I’m the last one to walk into the house and in time to see Cara direct River to sit down. If I didn’t know better I’d say he’s under arrest, but he didn’t exactly do anything, unless marrying a psycho bitch is a felony.
“Tucker, before you take your stuff downstairs, can you sit please?” Cara asks as she motions to a chair across from River. I choose the one farthest from him for fear that I might develop a nervous tic and beat the shit out of him.
Cara stays standing after Rask, Ryley, Evan, and Nate take seats around the table. It’s like she’s the teacher and about to school us on some random subject we’re being forced to take.
“I know the last thing you guys want to discuss is Frannie, but River has something to say and I think you guys should hear him out,” Cara states, standing behind River. I’m not sure how I feel about her solidarity toward him and maybe that’s why she’s a good agent—she’s impartial where I’m quick to judge. I think my judgment is warranted, though, considering his connection to all of this.
River takes a deep breath and finally lifts his head up so he’s looking at each of us. Since the shooting, I believe this is the first time he’s made eye contact with any of us aside from Evan. I know they’re close, but this entire time I’ve felt like he’s hiding something from us. If he tells us that he knew how sick his wife was I’ll make sure he’s sharing a cell with Lawson.
“I knew something was wrong when we came home. We all did,” he starts. “But for each of us it was different. I didn’t write her as much as the rest of you wrote home because I didn’t have a lot to say. The shit we saw out there—it’s not something you tell your newlywed wife. And honestly, after being gone so long, I wasn’t sure I was even in love with her. She didn’t know I was coming home because I hadn’t told her. In fact, after being gone so long, the last letter I sent her told her to find someone else. Six years is a long time to go without moving on and letters do not serve our families justice.
“I know I said this before, about how I thought it was weird that Frannie had my favorite beer in the refrigerator, and my first thought was she never threw it out, but the expiration dates were dates that hadn’t even happened yet, which lead me to my second thought—she had started drinking. So I watched her for a few days at lunch or dinner when I’d have one and she wouldn’t touch them. I then thought she had done as I asked and moved on and the guy just happened to like my beer. Not uncommon.
“When I got to our house, I knocked, half expecting someone else to answer. When she did, she said, ‘Hey, glad you’re home’ as if I had only been gone a few days and not six years. There were no tears,
no slap in the face for me telling her to move on, just a very nonchalant greeting. She was making dinner and there were fresh flowers and the table was set for two. I immediately asked her who she was expecting and she said, ‘You’.
“If she knew we were coming home, why didn’t she tell the other wives and why didn’t she meet us at the airstrip? Those questions immediately started plaguing my mind. While she finished preparing dinner, I went upstairs and started unpacking, and that’s when shit got weirder. Clothes hung in my closet that weren’t mine and I was okay with that. I had told her to move on, but my clothes were there as well and my shoes had been recently polished. In the bathroom I found a pregnancy test on the counter in broad daylight, and on the wall I found a calendar. The best I could ascertain is that the days she marked with a star were the days her and her boyfriend were together. The sad face was a failed pregnancy test since according to the calendar she had taken one that day and the x’s were when her period had arrived.
“I wasn’t mad, but overly confused. She welcomed me home, albeit somewhat coldly, kept all my stuff but was trying to get pregnant. She was also eerily quiet, like she’d pop up and scare the shit out of me. I’m a SEAL, I should be able to sense stealth movement, but I just couldn’t detect hers.
“That night, I sat at the table and she talked as if I had been home the whole time. Asking how my day was, wanting to know if we wanted to go to Ryley and Evan’s for a bar-be-cue this weekend, and wondering if we should have Tucker and Penny over one night for dinner. It’s only the next day that I find out what everyone was going through.
“But that night, after dinner, I felt odd. There wasn’t anything I could do about it except lie down. I was in and out of consciousness for most of the night, riddled with dreams about Cuba, the fighting, and sex. In the morning I kept having these flashbacks about watching someone having sex and couldn’t place them. This happened the first few nights and I had finally had enough so I didn’t eat what she cooked because each night I didn’t feel right afterwards. I pretended to act the same nonetheless that night only to find out that my wife was having sex in our bed with me next to her.”
The collective gasps aren’t lost on me. I think at this point I’m so desensitized about Frannie that nothing shocks me these days.
“Oh, River, I’m sorry,” Ryley says, reaching for him.
“I’m not because it opened my eyes, I just couldn’t tell anyone. The one mistake I made was letting Evan move in. Everything stopped, and I think it’s because she couldn’t drug you.”
“Lucky me,” he mutters.
“Yes, lucky you because you weren’t subject to spying on your wife. I asked her over and over again whom she was seeing and the answer was always the same, ‘I’m not seeing anyone.’ But I knew differently so I’d follow her and she’d end up at different hotels, in the backs of cars, and even in parks. It wasn’t bad enough that she was blatantly cheating and lying about it, but she acted as if we were this perfectly happy couple in front of everyone.