You Know What You Did, page 30
Duncan reaches over to stroke Annie’s cheek, but she pulls away. “Dammit, Annie. I don’t know what you want me to say. There are secrets in every marriage, aren’t there? You probably have a few of your own.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ray Park seems to think you and Ike are more than friends. I told him that was ridiculous but . . .”
“Nothing happened between Ike and me.”
“But would you want it to, Annie? That’s almost just as bad.”
Her denial comes too quickly, and it’s too adamant. She has to change the subject.
“The motel in Hong Kong. I saw you. You said you never actually had sex, but you tried. We never really talked about it after that day. We just ignored it.”
The color drains from his face. Suddenly, he’s somewhere else.
“Duncan?” Maybe she’s been too reckless, dredging up that painful period before they were even married.
He gets up without a word and continues unpacking his duffel. After a couple minutes, he’s back from wherever his mind had wandered. There’s a hard look in his eyes when he says, “Hong Kong? Why the hell would you bring that up now? You know what you did, Annie.”
CHAPTER 59
She listens to his breath. The frustratingly rhythmic inhale and exhale that taunts Annie on those nights she lies awake while her husband sleeps. She watches him, envious of his untroubled descent into oblivion. No guilty conscience tears at him; no intrusive thoughts keep him awake. Some primitive sixth sense alerts him to her scrutiny, and he rolls over, turns his back to her.
All the old wounds were scratched open earlier that evening. You know what you did, Annie. Did Duncan somehow know about Gabe? Maybe Danielle let something slip to Ray—the two husbands had been talking alone before dinner—or perhaps Dr. Patel had contacted him and made insinuations. The doctor’s loyalty clearly lay with Duncan. Psychiatrists were subject to ethical constraints, but they weren’t infallible. Neither were lawyers. Had Ed betrayed privilege in some wayward attempt to get her to separate from Duncan? His lingering gaze, his hand on her back, still made her uncomfortable if she thought about it too long.
She fled upstairs after Duncan’s accusation. You know what you did, Annie. She can’t handle any more truth. When her husband came to bed, she lay on her side, knees curled up into a ball, and pretended to be asleep. It hadn’t taken long for him to slip off. It never did. As a journalist, he was supposed to be impartial, but he had his implicit biases that bled into everything from word choice to deciding what to cover and what to ignore. The same way he’d angle a news story to fit his unconscious agenda, he’d rewrite the events of the day to justify his actions.
Now, as on thousands of other nights, he sleeps soundly while she picks herself apart. She waffles over when and what to tell Duncan about Gabe. The affair is over, but she has to ask herself why it happened and what it says about her feelings toward Duncan.
A little after midnight, Annie hears her daughter sneaking home, the door to her room softly closing. Tabby will be elated to see her dad in the morning. Annie doesn’t want to spoil the moment for either of them. Maybe she should wait for Gabe’s medical situation to resolve as Danielle said.
The coldness of the word hurts her, but she can’t bring herself to even think the word die. If she thought it, there was a chance it could tip the hand of fate. Anxiously awaiting word on his condition, she falls asleep with her phone in her hand. Later, the vibration and flashing screen wake her. Not wanting to stir Duncan, she stuffs the phone under her sleeve, climbs out of bed, and shuts herself in the bathroom before answering.
“Ed? Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry to wake you, Annie. I thought you’d want to know right away. The doctors decided it was time to take Gabe out of his medically induced coma so they could ascertain how much the oxygen loss affected his brain function.”
Annie’s heart pounds so loud she can’t hear or focus on all of Ed’s words. She only understands the broad outline of what he’s saying. Gabe, coma . . . why would he call her so late at night? It wasn’t like Ed. Unless— She jumps at the sound of her husband turning over in his sleep, the bed creaking on the other side of the door.
“Do you understand, Annie? I thought you’d want to know right away.”
“I’m sorry, Ed. What did you say?”
“Gabe is awake. He’s talking.”
* * *
Annie takes a few minutes to gather herself after Ed’s call. Telling herself she can’t hide in the bathroom forever, Annie takes a deep breath, exhales, and opens the door. She marches straight into a wall. The wall is Duncan.
He raises his eyebrow at the still-illuminated phone in her hand. “Who’s that? I thought I heard you talking to someone.”
“I didn’t want to wake you. I was leaving myself a voice memo. So much to do now that you’re back home.”
“That’s sweet.” He yawns. “Don’t let it keep you up, though. Tabby and I can take care of ourselves.” As he says this, he reaches out and pulls her into a tight embrace. The gesture that would have comforted her in the past has the opposite effect of making her feel less secure, even scared. She doesn’t know why. A guilty conscience can pervert anything.
CHAPTER 60
Annie wakes to the sound of raised voices. She glances at her phone and sees it’s nearly ten. Despite the late hour, she’s hardly rested, not having dozed off until dawn. She lies still as the news of Gabe’s condition hits her afresh.
Last night, Ed told her Gabe was conscious but claimed to remember nothing beyond falling asleep after they had sex. “Can I talk to him?” Annie asked. On this, Ed had been firm. “There should be no communication between you two at this juncture. The police could perceive that as your attempt at influencing Gabe’s recollection of events. It would muddy the waters.”
Muddy waters—the phrase brings to mind the image of Byrdie’s corpse floating in Lake Gaither. Annie rolls over onto her side, curling her knees to her chest.
The front door slams, and then Duncan’s heavy steps thump on the old wooden stairs.
“You’re awake!” he says, peeking in.
“I heard voices.”
“Oh shit! Did I wake you? Sorry. Jonah’s pressuring me to file the last feature by tomorrow.”
“I assumed you were done when you checked out of the motel.” Duncan’s face darkens, so she changes tact. “Jonah is usually so reasonable. You just returned a few days ago. What’s gotten into him?”
Duncan is too absorbed in his phone to look up as he mutters, “People change. I’m sure he has his reasons.” He turns and looks directly into her eyes. He seems to see right through her.
With two swift strides he’s next to her. He balances on the edge of the bed and strokes her hair as he speaks. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let work take over again. You and Tabby mean the world to me.” His nail catches on a snag in her hair, and she winces at the sudden tug and snap of the strand. He doesn’t seem to notice. “It’s just that I’m under a lot of pressure. I’ve got to get this piece filed or else all that time, all the sacrifice of being away, will be for nothing. Would it be okay if the three of us have breakfast together and then I go in and do my time at the office?”
She nods, knowing this means he will shut himself into his cubicle until he’s done. He’s always worked with fierce intensity. She’s relieved to have the time to sort out her thoughts and create a plan of action. “That would be great,” she says reassuringly. “Tabby will be happy to see you, but by the time breakfast is over she’ll be sick of us and ready to jet off with her friends.”
Annie’s words have the opposite effect on Duncan. He’s hurt, not fully coming to grips with the fact that his little girl doesn’t need him anymore. His phone rings and he grimaces when he sees it’s Jonah.
“Yes.” He answers the phone curtly. As he listens, she sees the nerve above his eyebrow throbbing. “Stop with this crap. I’m not some rookie you can bully. You’ll have the piece EOD tomorrow. Then you’ll have all the time in the world to fuck it up with your edits.” This must have appeased Jonah because Duncan says “Bye” in a deflated voice and hangs up.
When he turns to Annie, there’s a distant expression on his face. “All these years, I couldn’t have done it without us. My career, all of it. You and Tabby keep me sane . . . and Annie, I know. I know what kind of a wife you’ve been to me.”
Guilt washes over her. She’d been so selfish. They were a family, and she’d spent the last months focused on nothing but her needs. She reaches up and touches his cheek, caressing his increasingly salt-and-pepper stubble. He’s been good to her, but she’s surer than ever she is not in love with him.
* * *
“Daddy!” Tabby races down the stairs, leaps into Duncan’s arms, and nestles her head on his shoulder. All summer, the teenager’s indifference at her father’s absence belied her genuine concern. She’d heard stories of journalists killed on dangerous assignments. “You’re alive! You didn’t get blown up by a land mine.”
“Yes, I seem to be,” he says, beaming and holding his arms out in front of him. “How did you grow so much in two months?”
Embarrassed, Tabby hunches and retreats back into her sarcastic adolescent shell. “Um . . . hGH? I dunno. We’re getting pancakes, right?”
Tabby calls shotgun as she dives into the front seat of Duncan’s car. Annie climbs in back, happy to have everyone present and accounted for. One step at a time. It’s the only way to get through the difficult task of upending her family. When Duncan finishes his story, there will be plenty of time to talk about both the investigation and their future.
During breakfast at Duncan’s favorite greasy spoon, Tabby regales them with outlandish stories of camp cliques and mean girls, and Duncan talks about desert lice and his nightmare flight home. “Why are the people who take their shoes off always the ones you least want to take their shoes off?” Conversation comes easily, and the three of them enjoy one another’s company in a way they haven’t in years.
Still, Annie’s thoughts stray to Gabe and the investigation. She’d told the police Duncan was overseas. Detective Harper had been so focused on her, he hadn’t inquired again. What if they reached out to Duncan now—before she’s had a chance to talk to him?
“Earth to Mom! Hellooo,” Tabby calls out, hands cupped around her mouth like a megaphone. “You there?”
Duncan answers, wrapping a protective arm around Annie’s shoulders. “Your mom’s probably just tired from all the homecoming hoopla.” He leans over and kisses her forehead. “Thank god we’ll all be staying put for a while. I know I’m not going anywhere.”
After breakfast, Duncan drops them off before heading into the office. “It’s the final stretch. Gonna pop this baby out tonight if it kills me!”
“Gross, Dad!”
“I’ll have my phone on vibrate. I’ll try to check it every few hours. Call Jonah if you really need to reach me, okay?” he says, shooting Annie an apologetic look.
“Don’t worry. Everything’s fine,” she lies.
CHAPTER 61
Per Tabby’s request, Annie orders a pizza for the two of them. She retrieves the delivery boxes from the porch, noting that the grease has already begun to soak through, and re-arms the Guardian Angel Sentry system. Before she has a chance to set the boxes down, Tabby swipes them from her hands, chanting, “Pizza, pizza, me want pizza!” in a guttural caveman voice.
Annie hadn’t heard from Duncan during the day, but she didn’t expect to. He’d be knee-deep in work at least until the small hours of the morning, if not longer.
“Why is grease sooo good?” Tabby holds a veggie slice above her face and gobbles upward from a thick string of cheese. “Aren’t you going to eat, Mom?”
Annie stands, looking out at the black expanse of the backyard and gardens. The few solar lights staked into the ground flicker like real flames yet fail to generate much light. “Not super hungry yet, but you go ahead and start without me.”
“Ermh whut? Can’t hear you when I’m chewing like this, Mom. Crunchy crust. You’re missing out.”
Annie smiles to herself. In telling Tabby about Gabe, she’d upturned the boxes of her life and let the contents spill out and intermingle. She’d let things get messy. Yet her daughter still loved her and, if anything, they were closer for it.
She has to tell Duncan next, regardless of whether she’ll ever see Gabe again.
Picking up on her mother’s preoccupation, Tabby inquires, “Any news on your—er—friend?”
“Gabe’s out of his coma. He’ll be okay.”
“So have you figured out how you’re gonna break it to Dad?”
“After he files the story, I’ll tell him everything. But to be honest, I don’t think there’s much left to salvage in our marriage. It’s not about Gabe either. That’s over. I’m sorry if I let you down.”
“You didn’t, Mom. I just want us all to be happy, and I can tell you haven’t been in a while. It’s not like I don’t have eyes because I’m a kid. I know you and Daddy were arguing a lot before he left, maybe about him going away.
“But I’m sad for Dad. It’s like we’re all he’s got. Both his parents are gone, and he doesn’t talk to the rest of his family. There’s his work, but nobody reads long news stories anymore, so that’s kinda pointless.”
Annie chews her lower lip. “Both your dad and I need to learn how to stand on our own two feet. You won’t be around much longer to take care of us.” She winks at her daughter, in the process squeezing out the damp that springs to her eyes when she thinks of Tabby going off to college.
“Haha. Is it okay if I’m a total pig and take the rest of this one up to my room? I haven’t played Aliens in a week. Can’t let my gaming skills get flabby.”
Annie agrees, glad to have time to sort out her thoughts. Tabby plants an oily smooch on her mom’s cheek, then disappears upstairs to immerse herself in a world of extraterrestrial gore.
Annie disassembles the untouched second pizza, stacking slices on a plate to refrigerate for later, then double-checks the locks and draws the curtains. When she retires to her bedroom for the night, she glances at Tabby’s room. The door is closed and it’s silent, thanks to Tabby’s giant gaming headphones.
Alone in the quiet of her room, Annie considers everything that’s happened—Byrdie, Deja, Gabe. She’s still certain she would never intentionally hurt them. She’s not a murderer. But she thinks about the DOPS research supporting the “survival of personality after death.” If consciousness is more than a by-product of brain activity confined within our skulls, perhaps it follows that Annie is indirectly culpable. She’s agonized about losing control and being responsible for morbid outcomes, painfully ruminating on these thoughts until they eventually escaped into the real world. Worrying about flesh-eating bacteria in Lake Gaither, then seeing Byrdie’s decomposing body. Checking Deja’s mouth for Asiatic beetles, then seeing them latched on to his corpse. Reading about the banana spiders, then seeing them attack Gabe. The idea that she might have willed these horrors into existence sickens her.
But all this brooding will only make things worse. She decides it’s best to shower and rest. As she’s undressing, her phone buzzes and Dr. Patel’s name flashes across the screen. She slips on a robe before answering as if the doctor can see her nakedness through the screen.
“Hello, Dr. Patel?”
“Annie! I’m glad I caught you. I just wanted to check in with everything going on. How are you doing?”
“Oh, uh . . . thanks. I’m fine,” Annie says, her forehead wrinkling. Then she recalls how abruptly their last session ended, and it makes sense the doctor would feel obliged to follow up. Still, Annie pulls her robe tighter and crosses the room to close a gap in the curtains.
“That’s good. Great,” Dr. Patel says with undue relief.
Did she think I’d jump off a bridge? Did I seem that off? “Well, thank you. Is there anything else I can do for you, Doctor?”
“Nothing. Just, if you and Duncan need to work through anything, I’m always here. I know transitions can be difficult. Getting used to his being back now and dealing with the challenges in your marriage can be stressful—”
Annie interrupts before she can finish. “How did you know he’s back?” She replays their last session in her head, certain she didn’t tell the doctor her husband had returned.
“W-we’ve spoken briefly.”
“Why? He gets back and you’re his first call?”
“I wouldn’t say that . . . however, I did speak to him just now, as a matter of fact. Frankly, I’m concerned. He’s under a lot of stress, and he doesn’t sound like himself.”
“Don’t you think you should stay out of our relationship considering you dated? It can’t be ethical for you to see him as a patient.”
“He reached out to me as a friend, Annie. I’m a friend of his who happens to be a psychiatrist. There’s nothing more to it.”
The doctor’s words, the vagueness of the situation, all of it bewilders Annie. A troublesome thought gnaws at the back of Annie’s mind, slowly worming its way into her consciousness, but not quite ready to surface.
Annie replies with open hostility. “I agree. There’s nothing more to discuss. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I think you should just stay out of our lives now, Dr. Patel.”
“Wait, Annie! Don’t hang up, please. Oh, I’m not expressing myself well at all.”
“Good-bye, Doctor!”
“You need to be careful—”
