Fury, page 3
“Good morning, Evan,” Miss Stephanie said when they reached her door. “How are you today?”
“Good,” he said, hugging her around the middle. “It your bird-day.”
“It is my birthday. Are you excited for our party?” Miss Stephanie asked. She gave Wray a friendly smile, then focused right back on Evan.
“I am. Mommy said we bringed ice cream.”
“Ooh, well, thank you. Your daddy can put it in the freezer down in the cafeteria.” She swung her eyes to his. “Do you know where that is?”
“Um, yes, but I don’t have ice cream. Stacey and I must have gotten our wires crossed this morning. She didn’t mention it. I’ll have to bring it back.” Wray felt like a crappy father, but that was a feeling he was definitely getting used to.
“You forget?” Evan said, his voice loud in the already loud hallway. “Why you forget? Mommy said!”
“I’ll get it, buddy. She just forgot to tell me about it. Don’t worry. I’ll bring it back.”
“But you forget!” Evan howled. He burst into tears and turned to Miss Stephanie. She put her hand on his back and patted it.
“It’s okay, Evan. We have lots of treats for today.” Miss Stephanie gave Wray a look that was part apology and part dismissal. She couldn’t have been much older than twenty, and she still had him feeling like a chastised child.
“I’ll go get it right now. I’ll be right back. It’ll be in the freezer when you have your party. I promise.” Wray had his keys out and was going to walk away when he realized he hadn’t said goodbye yet.
“I love you, Evan. I’m sorry I forgot. I’ll fix it.”
“You didn’t fix it with Mommy,” Evan said, pulling back from Miss Stephanie’s leg long enough to shoot Wray a glare that had him rocking back and wanting to run. Guess both boys knew.
“I’ll fix everything, Evan. I promise.”
Evan gave him a look that said he knew Wray was full of shit and went into the classroom. Wray was left standing there with Miss Stephanie, wondering how to explain what just happened.
“Good morning, Alexis,” she said to another student. The look on her face was bright and cheery, and she slid Wray a glance that said she knew far too much.
He simply nodded and walked away. It seemed everyone knew he sucked as a father and a husband and, in general, just a man.
Maybe ice cream could fix one of those.
3
Stacey sat at her desk and tried to focus. Telling Wray to leave was harder than she thought it would be. She expected a fight, or a plea, or something. Instead, she got acceptance.
She was trying for the same thing. She felt like she was the only one holding on to their marriage. Maybe if she accepted it was over, she could move on and not feel so horrible about it ending.
It was hard to do, and for the first time, she understood how her clients felt. Stacey hadn’t been through what they went through, but it was harder than she ever thought it would be to let go of a dream she’d had for ten years. To say goodbye to a person she thought would be in her life forever. And to admit she was no better than her parents.
She told her clients all the time that letting go was usually the hardest part of moving on with their lives. As a domestic abuse counselor, she worked with women looking to sever ties with their abuser permanently. Many were women who had gone back to an abusive husband or boyfriend more than once, but they decided they were ready to end things. Stacey was the one who helped them to do that.
She loved her job, but there were definitely things she hated about it. Seeing the same women in her office again and again reminded her that abuse was a cycle. Women didn’t fall for abusive men. They fell for amazing men who were kind and caring and wonderful. Men who had excuses and explanations and accusations at the ready whenever they struck out. The ones who went back, went back because they trusted the first man, not the second. Some worked out, but most did not.
“Are you ready?” Frannie asked with a quick knock on her door. Shelter in the Storm was Frannie’s brain child. She opened the doors six and a half years ago, and Stacey was grateful every day for the chance to help Frannie and the women who came for help.
Stacey nodded to Frannie. Frannie stepped back and let Raina in, then closed the door so they could have privacy for their session.
Raina was a repeat client. She was a strong, stunning woman who ended up with the wrong man. She went back to him after her first stay in the shelter because he convinced her he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Her second stay in the shelter started with a fractured orbital and three broken ribs. Raina vowed never to return to him.
Stacey stood and welcomed Raina into her office. Raina was a petite, curvy woman with caramel brown hair that swayed a few inches past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were kind and watchful, and her posture had changed in the few weeks she’d been at the shelter. She was confident and strong, and she was going to be fine on her own.
“Hi, Raina. How are you?” Stacey asked. She hugged the other woman, a gesture that helped clients to acclimatize to positive physical contact.
Raina returned the hug warmly and held on for an extra few seconds. “I’m great. I finally feel like I can stand on my own two feet. And I have you and Francesca to thank for that.”
Stacey shook her head. “You did the hard work. We just helped you to see you could.”
Raina drew a breath, her chest expanding as she accepted the words into herself like Stacey taught her. Her shoulders sagged with relief, and she nodded. She was ready for her new life.
“Have you heard from Damon?” Stacey asked. Distance from the ex was always part of the plan, especially when he was a repeat offender.
Raina shook her head. She picked at her unpainted nails. “I know he’s still looking for me, but he doesn’t have any way of getting in touch with me.”
“What is your plan going forward? How are you going to stay away from him when you’re not here?”
“I’m going to live with a friend. She’s been great to me through all of this. She is the only one I’ve been in touch with, and she knows everything. She doesn’t want me alone, so she offered to let me live with her.”
“That sounds like a good plan. It’s always good to have people in your corner, especially people you trust and who will protect you.” Stacey thought of her own life. She knew Wray would protect her if she ever needed it, but trusting was a different story. A part of her felt like a hypocrite for telling her clients all these things and not living them in her own life. But it made her see she deserved better. Her husband wasn’t physically abusive, but he wasn’t a great husband to her either. Not over the last six months, or before.
“Next time, see if your friend can come in here with you. I’d like to meet her and help her understand ways to help you. I also want her to know she can call me if either of you ever needs anything.”
“Okay, sure. Karli probably won’t mind that.”
“Good. Tell me what else is going on.”
Raina launched into the rest of the session, and before they knew it, their hour was up. Stacey hugged Raina again and let herself believe she would be one of the success stories.
She checked her phone for any missed calls or texts. She kept it on silent during sessions so she wasn’t interrupted. When she saw a missed call and three missed texts from Wray, her traitorous heart leaped.
Stacey opened the text messages and scowled when she read them.
Wray: I didn’t realize we were supposed to bring ice cream for Miss Stephanie’s birthday today. Evan is upset. Going home to check the freezer. Sorry I forgot.
Stacey winced. She forgot to tell him about it.
Wray: Found an unopened Neapolitan. I’m guessing this is it. I hope so. Sorry if I took the wrong thing.
Stacey nodded to herself. He was correct. But she felt bad for making him go through an extra trip.
Wray: Ice cream has been delivered. Hopefully Evan can forgive me.
Stacey: I’m sure he will. Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier. That was what I bought for today. Thanks for doing that.
Stacey stared at her phone a minute longer. Wray didn’t reply to her text. It was irrational to want him to, but texting was the most communication they had lately.
A knock on her door had Stacey tucking her phone away again. Frannie stuck her head in and glanced around. “Doing okay?”
Stacey nodded. “Yeah. It was a good session.”
Frannie opened the door and walked in, closing it behind her. She took the seat Raina vacated minutes earlier, settling her tall, plus-size figure into the comfortable chair. “Raina seems to be healing finally. I hate when it’s that bad. I wasn’t sure she was going to survive that first night.”
Stacey nodded. She saw Raina the day after and she wasn’t sure how the woman had survived the night. “Thankfully, she did. And she’s doing well.”
“Good. How are you doing?” The look in Frannie’s hazel eyes was one of kindness, not judgement, but Stacey felt the judgement, anyway. She knew what Frannie was really asking about.
Stacey busied her hands by sorting through the stack of mail she’d been neglecting. Most of the time it was junk, so she never bothered to deal with it on a schedule. She couldn’t remember the last time she went through it.
“I’m good,” Stacey lied. In the middle of the stack was a plain white envelope. There was no return address, but the stamp said it was mailed locally.
“Are you sure?” Frannie asked, her tone telling Stacey she didn’t believe her for a second.
Stacey pressed her lips into a smile and opened the envelope. She didn’t get a lot of mail, and definitely didn’t get many handwritten letters. She didn’t recognize the handwriting. She flipped the page over and gasped.
“What? What is that?” Frannie was up out of her seat and rounding Stacey’s desk before she could answer.
“It’s from Holly.”
“Are you sure?”
Stacey clapped a hand over her mouth and flipped back to the beginning to read Holly’s words.
Dear Stacey,
I’m sorry to be dropping this on you, but you and Francesca are the only ones I know I can trust. You two and my neighbor who’s sending this if something happens to me. Which means if you’re reading this, I was right. And now I’m dead.
God, this is harder than I thought it would be. A part of me knew if I stayed with Oscar, he would kill me eventually, which was why I left. Living at Shelter in the Storm for so long made me stronger. It changed my life. I would have gone back to him if it weren’t for you and Francesca. And God knows what would have happened to Vera.
If I’m dead, you have to prove that he did it. Not because I want him to go down for something he didn’t do, but because I know he’s following me. I don’t know how he found us, but he did. I saw him. He disappeared when I looked, but I know it was him. And if he’s following me, he’s going to come after me.
Please protect my daughter. Don’t let Vera stay with him. Don’t let him hurt her. I know you and Francesca will help. He’s an evil man. When we first met, he wasn’t as bad, but he’s not that man anymore. He’s evil. I won’t rest if he has my daughter. Please help her.
My everlasting gratitude,
Holly
Stacey reread the letter four times before she processed the words. Stacey knew Oscar was guilty, but she had no proof. If he was following Holly, that had to be worth something.
“Wow. I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow.” Frannie walked to the other side of the desk and sat down. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
“What can we do? Should we call Marcus?”
Frannie looked up at Stacey like she’d grown a second head. “Why?”
“Because it says right there that Oscar was following her. He killed her.”
Frannie sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “Stacey, we can’t do anything about that. It’s not proof of anything.”
“Are you saying he’s going to get away with it?”
“He has an alibi. He didn’t kill her.”
“You know that’s not true. He was involved. He had to have been. Maybe it was like Strangers on a Train or something. He and a friend killed someone for each other.”
“Honey, you know we can’t go around saying that.”
“Why not? He killed her. It’s too convenient that he was following her, then she ends up dead. He would have killed her before if she hadn’t come here.”
“I know. Holly was lucky she got out of there when she did. And I really thought she was going to be okay.”
“She should have been. He followed her and killed her. We need to call Marcus.”
Frannie sighed again. “You can call him, but he can’t act on this.”
“Why not?”
“They’ve already cleared Oscar. If they go back at him with something like this, something unsubstantiated, he can sue the police department for harassment.”
“It’s not harassment if he’s guilty.”
“It is if there’s no proof. If there’s no new evidence that says he could have done it. That letter isn’t evidence.”
Stacey wanted to scream. Or cry. Or something. He was going to get away with it. Unless they found proof. “What if we find proof?”
“Like what?”
“What if he confesses?”
“It still has to be proven. A confession is only one piece of evidence. It’s a strong one, but it’s still only one.”
“What if we prove his alibi wasn’t real?”
“That could give cause to look into him again, but there weren’t any cameras in the area where Holly was killed. He car was torched a few blocks away, and it never went through any street cameras. There’s not a lot of evidence.”
“I can’t give up.”
“I didn’t say you should. I’m just not sure what you’re going to find. If you find anything.”
“I have to try.”
“Are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons?”
“Is there a wrong reason to prove someone is guilty of murder?”
“Not if he actually is. Is everything okay with Wray? You seem more on edge than normal.”
Stacey thought about lying to her boss, but Frannie knew the whole story. Captain Patrick was her husband and was involved in the case that set Wray free and exposed his secrets.
“I asked Wray to move out.”
Frannie closed her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Stacey shrugged and tried to hold back her tears. “Me, too. I have been holding on for the boys, but apparently they know we’re having trouble. And nothing has changed between us. I still love him, but I can’t be with him if I can’t trust him.”
Francesca nodded. “No, you can’t. And if neither of you are going to do anything to change that, it’s better for both of you to end things now, so maybe you can find a new happy ending.”
“I’ve tried to change things,” Stacey argued.
“You have?”
“Sure. I’m trained. I know what to do. He just won’t listen to me.”
“And you know you can’t be objective when you’re one of the clients.”
Stacey sighed and glared half-heartily at her friend.
Frannie laughed and stood. “You can get upset with me if you want, but you know I’m right. And you know Wray is a very good man. He messed up, and I’m not going to say he didn’t, but he has taken whatever you’ve thrown at him for months. Maybe you guys should try to be less civil and get it all out.”
Stacey pursed her lips and stared straight ahead while Frannie moved toward the door.
“I’m not sure having a shouting match is a good idea. Ugly things come out when people do that.”
“Ugly things stay buried when people don’t,” Frannie countered. “I don’t know the answer. I don’t have the degree or the experience helping people through something like what you’re going through. All I know is when Marcus makes me mad, we get it all out in the open and say the things we need to say, then we make up like bunnies and all is right with the world.”
Stacey snorted. “I really don’t think sex is going to fix our problems.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s a damn good way to try.” Frannie waved and let herself out of Stacey’s office. “Let me know if you need any help with the Holly stuff. And be careful.”
Stacey nodded at Frannie’s back and debated her advice. Yelling at Wray didn’t seem like the right thing to do, but if it got them past the strain and to a place of healing, maybe it was worth a shot. It was a much better idea than having sex. Not that Stacey didn’t miss sex with her husband, but sex was more than just physical for her. She liked to look into his eyes and see him. Connect with him. Know he was the only man who would ever make her feel the way he did.
It all felt like a fantasy now. She’d barely been able to be in the same room with Wray for months. Being in the same room and getting naked and touching each other was beyond what she could imagine. Even if she had imagined it many, many times over the months.
God, she wanted him still, but she couldn’t forgive so easily. Not when she couldn’t trust him. When she couldn’t trust herself with him.
She couldn’t fix her marriage, but maybe she could figure out what really happened to Holly. Get justice for a woman who didn’t deserve to die.
Stacey nodded and grabbed the letter from Holly and read it again. She took a picture and saved it to her phone and computer, just in case something happened to the letter.
Time to do some research.
4
Wray saw the text from Stacey, but he didn’t answer it. Saying anything felt natural, normal, and not right anymore. He needed to figure out how he was going to move on from her and let her go like she deserved. As much as he hated the idea.
“You done?” Braden asked, drawing Wray’s attention from his phone and back to the weight room.
