That was the key she still kept on her chain.
Bob never knew, of course, but late at night, when Megan needed to get away from the club and the apartment she shared with four other girls, she would use the key and unroll a blanket and disappear inside Lucy. When she fell for Ray, this was the place they would meet up. She brought no other man here, not ever. Only Ray. They would use the key and climb that spiral staircase and make the sweetest, gentlest love.
She parked the car and slipped out. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty ocean air. It all started coming back to her. Her eyes opened. She looked up at Lucy and shivered at the rush of memories.
From behind her, a voice—the voice, really—said, “Cassie?”
She couldn’t move.
“Oh my God,” he said with an ache that tore a hole in her heart. “Cassie.”
DAVE PIERCE FELT AS THOUGH a giant hand had picked up his life and started shaking it like a cheap snow globe.
He sat now in front of the computer in the spare bedroom Megan had converted last year into a home office. His stomach hurt. He hated turmoil. He didn’t handle pressure well. When he was feeling this way, when the walls seemed to be closing in on him, Megan was always there. She would rub his temples or massage his shoulders or whisper soft, soothing words in his ear.
Without her, he felt adrift and scared. Megan had never done anything like this before. She had never been out of touch for more than an hour or two. Her sudden erratic behavior should have surprised him, shocked him even, but the worst part was, it hadn’t. Maybe that was the most troubling part—how easily every given perception, everything he had taken for granted, could shift.
His finger hovered over the mouse button. Dave looked at the screen. He didn’t want to make the final click, but really, what choice did he have anymore?
Jordan threw open the door, startling him. “Dad?”
“For crying out loud, what did I tell you about knocking?”
“I’m sorry—”
“I’ve told you a hundred times,” he said, louder than he intended. “Knock first. Is that so hard to remember?”
“I didn’t mean to…”
Jordan’s eyes filled with tears. He was a sensitive kid. Dave had been like that when he was little too. He quickly backed off.
“I’m sorry, sport. I just got a lot going on, that’s all.”
Jordan nodded, trying to keep the tears back.
“What’s up, pal?”
“Where’s Mom?”
Good question. He stared at the screen. One more click and he’d know the answer. To his son he said, “She’s doing something for Grandma. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Mom said she’d help me with math.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
Jordan frowned. “With math?”
It was a big family joke, how bad Dave was in math. “Point taken. Get in bed though. It’s late.”
“I didn’t finish my homework.”
“I’ll write your teacher a note. Get some sleep, okay?”
He came closer to his father. The boy still liked a good-night kiss. His sister had stopped participating in that ritual years ago. When Jordan hugged him now, Dave felt the tears push into his eyes. He held on to his son for a second longer than usual. When they released each other, Jordan’s eyes naturally gravitated toward the computer monitor. Dave quickly minimized the screen, turning it into a tiny icon in the bottom corner.
“Good night, pal.”
“Good night, Dad.”
“Close the door, okay?”
He nodded, doing as he was asked. Dave wiped his eyes and hit the icon. The screen came back on. He moved the arrow back over the link. One more click would tell him exactly where his wife was.
When he had first gotten the cell phones and signed a contract that would have made his mortgage broker feel inadequate, the salesman had offered a bunch of mind-numbing smart-phone options, most of which Dave had ignored. But when the salesman raised the idea of activating the GPSs on the phones for only five dollars per month, Dave had accepted. At the time he had pretended to himself that it was for peace of mind—in case of an emergency. Suppose Jordan went missing? Suppose Kaylie didn’t call in for hours? Suppose Megan got carjacked?
But the truth was, a truth that Dave had never even whispered to himself, he had never fully trusted the woman he loved and fully trusted. Yes, that made no sense. She had a past. He knew that. So did he. Everyone did, he supposed. You come to a new relationship shedding the skin of the old ones. That was a good and healthy thing.
But with Megan, there was something more. Much of what she told him about her past didn’t really add up. He didn’t exactly ignore it, but he let it go. Part of him didn’t want to threaten the good karma. Even now, after all these years, he still couldn’t believe that Megan had chosen him. She was so beautiful and smart and when she looked at him, when she smiled at him, even now, even after all these years, he still felt the pow. When you are lucky enough to experience that, when you get to have that pow as part of your daily life, you don’t look too hard at the whys and hows.
Dave had been happily passive, struck dumb by what he considered his blind luck, but today had shattered the calm. That giant hand kept shaking and shaking his world, and when it was put back on the shelf, it would never be the same. That was the part they tell you but you can’t ever really believe—how fragile it all is.
Night had long since fallen. The house was quiet. He wondered whether he had ever felt alone, and he guessed that the answer was no. So without thinking about it any longer, Dave clicked the icon.
A map came up. Then Dave Pierce hit the zoom button once, twice, three times, closing in slowly on exactly where his wife now was.
19
MEGAN AND RAY FACED EACH OTHER, maybe ten yards apart.
For the first time since that horrible night seventeen years ago, Megan was looking at the man she had loved and abandoned. Ray stared back, seemingly frozen, his still-handsome face a mask of anguish and confusion.
Emotions ricocheted through her. She didn’t move, didn’t think, didn’t try to sort through them. Not yet. She just let them overwhelm her, take her down, bring her up. Former lovers are always the ultimate what-if, the supreme road-not-taken, but with Ray, it was even deeper. Most couples move on for a variety of reasons. One outgrows the other, one or the other loses interest, loses that feeling, has different goals and wants, finds someone new.
None of that happened with Ray. They were instead torn asunder as if by a natural disaster, and when that happened, her feelings for him—yes, it was love—had been as intense as ever. He, she was sure, had felt the same. There was no gentle distancing, no harsh words, no hardening of the heart. One moment they were together, connected, in love. The next it was all gone in a pool of blood.
Bob never knew, of course, but late at night, when Megan needed to get away from the club and the apartment she shared with four other girls, she would use the key and unroll a blanket and disappear inside Lucy. When she fell for Ray, this was the place they would meet up. She brought no other man here, not ever. Only Ray. They would use the key and climb that spiral staircase and make the sweetest, gentlest love.
She parked the car and slipped out. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty ocean air. It all started coming back to her. Her eyes opened. She looked up at Lucy and shivered at the rush of memories.
From behind her, a voice—the voice, really—said, “Cassie?”
She couldn’t move.
“Oh my God,” he said with an ache that tore a hole in her heart. “Cassie.”
DAVE PIERCE FELT AS THOUGH a giant hand had picked up his life and started shaking it like a cheap snow globe.
He sat now in front of the computer in the spare bedroom Megan had converted last year into a home office. His stomach hurt. He hated turmoil. He didn’t handle pressure well. When he was feeling this way, when the walls seemed to be closing in on him, Megan was always there. She would rub his temples or massage his shoulders or whisper soft, soothing words in his ear.
Without her, he felt adrift and scared. Megan had never done anything like this before. She had never been out of touch for more than an hour or two. Her sudden erratic behavior should have surprised him, shocked him even, but the worst part was, it hadn’t. Maybe that was the most troubling part—how easily every given perception, everything he had taken for granted, could shift.
His finger hovered over the mouse button. Dave looked at the screen. He didn’t want to make the final click, but really, what choice did he have anymore?
Jordan threw open the door, startling him. “Dad?”
“For crying out loud, what did I tell you about knocking?”
“I’m sorry—”
“I’ve told you a hundred times,” he said, louder than he intended. “Knock first. Is that so hard to remember?”
“I didn’t mean to…”
Jordan’s eyes filled with tears. He was a sensitive kid. Dave had been like that when he was little too. He quickly backed off.
“I’m sorry, sport. I just got a lot going on, that’s all.”
Jordan nodded, trying to keep the tears back.
“What’s up, pal?”
“Where’s Mom?”
Good question. He stared at the screen. One more click and he’d know the answer. To his son he said, “She’s doing something for Grandma. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Mom said she’d help me with math.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
Jordan frowned. “With math?”
It was a big family joke, how bad Dave was in math. “Point taken. Get in bed though. It’s late.”
“I didn’t finish my homework.”
“I’ll write your teacher a note. Get some sleep, okay?”
He came closer to his father. The boy still liked a good-night kiss. His sister had stopped participating in that ritual years ago. When Jordan hugged him now, Dave felt the tears push into his eyes. He held on to his son for a second longer than usual. When they released each other, Jordan’s eyes naturally gravitated toward the computer monitor. Dave quickly minimized the screen, turning it into a tiny icon in the bottom corner.
“Good night, pal.”
“Good night, Dad.”
“Close the door, okay?”
He nodded, doing as he was asked. Dave wiped his eyes and hit the icon. The screen came back on. He moved the arrow back over the link. One more click would tell him exactly where his wife was.
When he had first gotten the cell phones and signed a contract that would have made his mortgage broker feel inadequate, the salesman had offered a bunch of mind-numbing smart-phone options, most of which Dave had ignored. But when the salesman raised the idea of activating the GPSs on the phones for only five dollars per month, Dave had accepted. At the time he had pretended to himself that it was for peace of mind—in case of an emergency. Suppose Jordan went missing? Suppose Kaylie didn’t call in for hours? Suppose Megan got carjacked?
But the truth was, a truth that Dave had never even whispered to himself, he had never fully trusted the woman he loved and fully trusted. Yes, that made no sense. She had a past. He knew that. So did he. Everyone did, he supposed. You come to a new relationship shedding the skin of the old ones. That was a good and healthy thing.
But with Megan, there was something more. Much of what she told him about her past didn’t really add up. He didn’t exactly ignore it, but he let it go. Part of him didn’t want to threaten the good karma. Even now, after all these years, he still couldn’t believe that Megan had chosen him. She was so beautiful and smart and when she looked at him, when she smiled at him, even now, even after all these years, he still felt the pow. When you are lucky enough to experience that, when you get to have that pow as part of your daily life, you don’t look too hard at the whys and hows.
Dave had been happily passive, struck dumb by what he considered his blind luck, but today had shattered the calm. That giant hand kept shaking and shaking his world, and when it was put back on the shelf, it would never be the same. That was the part they tell you but you can’t ever really believe—how fragile it all is.
Night had long since fallen. The house was quiet. He wondered whether he had ever felt alone, and he guessed that the answer was no. So without thinking about it any longer, Dave clicked the icon.
A map came up. Then Dave Pierce hit the zoom button once, twice, three times, closing in slowly on exactly where his wife now was.
19
MEGAN AND RAY FACED EACH OTHER, maybe ten yards apart.
For the first time since that horrible night seventeen years ago, Megan was looking at the man she had loved and abandoned. Ray stared back, seemingly frozen, his still-handsome face a mask of anguish and confusion.
Emotions ricocheted through her. She didn’t move, didn’t think, didn’t try to sort through them. Not yet. She just let them overwhelm her, take her down, bring her up. Former lovers are always the ultimate what-if, the supreme road-not-taken, but with Ray, it was even deeper. Most couples move on for a variety of reasons. One outgrows the other, one or the other loses interest, loses that feeling, has different goals and wants, finds someone new.
None of that happened with Ray. They were instead torn asunder as if by a natural disaster, and when that happened, her feelings for him—yes, it was love—had been as intense as ever. He, she was sure, had felt the same. There was no gentle distancing, no harsh words, no hardening of the heart. One moment they were together, connected, in love. The next it was all gone in a pool of blood.
