Three years had passed since then.
It felt like lifetimes.
Cessy walked into her apartment, pulled a beer out of the fridge, collapsed on the couch. Turned on the television and stared dully at the violence on the evening news.
She went to the bedroom, opened a drawer in the nightstand, pulled out the photos she’d printed.
She stared at the pictures, the blurry shots of masked men standing around bodies.
Cessy thought again about the money she owed, wondered what she’d have to do to get it.
Wondered what would happen if she didn’t have it.
And she felt Hector’s pull, like his hand was once again yanking her wrist, pulling her to pain, to fear.
To someone she desperately didn’t want to be.
CHAPTER
7
“WHY DON’T YOU take some more time?”
Clark Carlson’s voice was kind.
Deb held the phone tight, tried one last time.
“Look, Clark, I know you don’t think I’m ready. But that’s not the case. Yeah, I’m not fully recovered, but I don’t know if I ever will be. I just know that I need to start working again. And I know you’re gearing up for your next health-care push.”
“You know about that?”
“There’s always a next health-care push.”
Clark laughed abruptly. “You’re right.”
Silence.
Deb looked around her backyard, the unkempt grass and ragged bushes. It was too late in the year to do anything about it, but she still felt the urge to garden. She liked kneeling in the dirt, layering mulch, pulling plants from their pots, giving new life to soil.
Grief had distracted her from so many things she used to enjoy.
And when she remembered them, it was like they were activities someone else had done. Hobbies that entertained a different person, long ago.
“The thing is,” Clark was telling her, “we really don’t have anything right now. You’re right, we’re working on a couple of big PR campaigns, but we staffed them weeks ago. And I would have called you, but I heard what happened and …”
His voice trailed away.
Deb stared at a small withered tree. She couldn’t remember what kind it was. Normally, she could name all the plants in the backyard, but this one escaped her. It was a young tree, planted less than a year ago, thin and winding, like a person hugging herself.
“But if things change,” she said, “you’ll keep me in mind?”
“Definitely.” Clark paused. “Is this … can I ask you, is this because you need money? Are you hurting? I mean, financially.”
“I’m okay.”
Another pause. “I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t friends. Oh, side note. Speaking of friends, you know Susan Myers? I’m meeting her for dinner tonight.”
Deb hadn’t really considered Clark a friend; she always kept her clients—especially her male clients—on a different tier. But she wasn’t going to disabuse him of that notion. “Tell Sue I said hi. And really, I’m fine. I just want to get back to work. Give myself something to do.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed. “With what happened with Grant, it must be a lot to deal with.”
Deb wasn’t sure where Clark was going with this. “It is. But like I said, I just want to work. And I really liked working with CPP in the past and would be happy to do so again.”
“So how are you doing?” he persisted.
This was how the men reacted. An odd mix of wanting to be helpful and, underneath that surface, naked curiosity. Like violence was a fire to which they were drawn.
“I’m getting there.”
“How’s Kim? She’s at Maryland, right?”
“Washington College, over in the Eastern Shore.”
“Right, right,” Clark said. “But she’s doing okay?”
“She dropped her classes this semester. But she’ll be okay.”
“Have the police found any leads?”
“No.”
“Are they still investigating? Have you thought about hiring a private investigator?”
“I’m not sure one could turn up anything the police couldn’t.”
“You never know. Might be something to consider.”
“It might,” Deb said wearily. Deciduous tree? Was that the term?
“And money’s okay?”
Well, Deb thought, you asked.
“No. It’s not. And I’m not sure what we’re going to do.”
Hesitancy returned to Clark’s voice. “Yeah?”
“Our finance guy came by yesterday, and he went over Grant’s accounts. We don’t have as much as I thought we did.”
“Well, that sounds …”
“Grant used his four-oh-one,” Deb went on. “I never knew that. I mean, I wasn’t one of those women who doesn’t know anything about our finances … but I feel, like, maybe I was? And it just makes me feel so irresponsible. Like, how could I not know that he’d borrowed against his four-oh-one?”
“Didn’t you have to sign for that?”
“He forged my signature. He forged it.” Deb touched her eyes, let the tears come. “I found all this out yesterday.”
“Do you know what he used the money for?”
“No, I never knew about any of this. I just feel so stupid.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way.”
“But our lives are … I mean, Kim’s college.”
“Oh, right,” Clark said uneasily. The tenor of his voice had changed. Deb could tell he wanted to get off the phone. This was more than he’d bargained for.
But Clark had pressed and pressed and, dammit, now he was going to deal with her.
“We can get loans, but they don’t cover everything. There’s a chance Kim may have to move schools. Go in-state so we can afford the tuition. And I don’t know how to tell her that. She loves Washington College.”
“Well, I think she’ll understand …”
Deb was crying now. “She has some boyfriend there. I don’t know. If I can find a way to keep her there, I will. It’s just, I feel so stupid. I’ve been so out of touch with all this, and I wasn’t that kind of wife. We didn’t have that kind of marriage. I just stopped paying attention after a while. I mean, Grant worked in finance. Everything was covered. Money wasn’t even something I thought about.”
“One second,” she heard Clark tell someone.
“We weren’t rich,” Deb told him. “And we didn’t have much when we first got married. We lived in this tiny, one-bedroom apartment in Arlington until Kim was four. It was so small we could barely fit a couch inside. But things got better, and we got comfortable, and it was nice not to pay attention to anything like that. I should have.”
“Deb, I hate to do this, but I really need to get going.”
“I just don’t know what he used the money for.”
Silence.
“So …” Clark said. “I really have to go.”
Deb wiped her eyes. “You’ll let me know if anything comes up?”
“I will,” Clark said. “I definitely will.”