“What about Preston? Does he understand and help when this happens?”
Preston. Walt has never called David by his given name. That alone says a lot about how my partner feels on the subject. All the more reasonwhy I can’t talk to him about how I’m feeling. “There was nothing David could do. The dark and the quiet are the only things that help.”
Walt grunts. “Stella’s sister had migraines. She said stress made them worse.”
“You think I’m stressed, Walt?” I hide my smile. He and Stella had no children, so he’s kind of taken me under his wing. Treats me like a daughter sometimes. I can’t exactly say I don’t enjoy it. Since I lost my father, my friendship with Walt means more than ever. He’s like family.
“Yep, I think that fancy fiancé of yours and the wedding plans have you way too stressed.” He parks in front of the elementary school. “I think you both need to take a breath and relax.”
Laughter bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “No amount of relaxing makes wedding planning easy.”
Another grunt. “There’s always the courthouse. Pick a handy judge. That’s what Stella and I did.”
I can’t help it, I laugh even harder now. “David’s mother might have a stroke.”
He shuts the engine off and turns to me. “You aren’t marrying his mother, Liv.”
“A mere technicality, partner.”
“I guess,” Walt offers, “if you’re in love him and he’s in love with you, that’s all that matters.”
I reach for the door but Walt doesn’t. He is evidently not finished yet.
“You love him, right?”
I sigh. “You asked me this before.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I stare forward, thinking about the answer before I give it. Do I say what I should say or what I feel? “I thought I was in love with him,” I admit. “But lately I’m having second thoughts.” There. I said it out loud. The ground didn’t break open and swallow me. The world didn’t capsize. The three-carat solitaire at home on my bedside table probably hasn’t self-destructed. I don’t wear the ring to work. Don’t want to riskdamaging it or losing it and, besides, the celebrity-size dazzler can be a distraction during an interview.
“It’s not until you live with a person that you see who he or she really is,” Walt warns. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
I shake my head. “Actually, I don’t think it’s him.” I drop my head back against the seat. “I think it’s me, and I don’t know if it’s cold feet or what.” I can’t say what I really feel, like maybe I don’t deserve him ... that I’m not like him and his family. Walt would go ballistic.
“Then you should tell him you need more time.”
I have, and until yesterday it would have been that simple. Now everything is complicated.
“I have to think about all this some more.”
Walt winks at me. “You’ll figure it out. You’re way too smart to get yourself trapped in a relationship that isn’t right for you.”
I smile but inside I want to cry. There was a time when I thought I was smarter than this, that’s for sure. The past few weeks, it’s as if my ability to think and act with reason and wisdom has deserted me. I’ve lost my footing, and somehow I can’t find it amid all the uncertainty and newness of suddenly being an adult orphan and a bride-to-be. Throw mother-to-be in the mix, and I am totally sinking here.
Focus, Liv.I climb out of the SUV and walk alongside Walt into the school. Work has always been my happy place. I need to stay on task and let the other stuff go. At least for now.
Shelley Martin’s principal is more than happy to send an assistant to sit with Martin’s class while we speak to her. Walt assured the principal that Mrs. Martin was not in any sort of trouble, that we are hoping she might be able to help us with a case. Still, I doubt the curious principal will let it go. She will want answers. But whatever answers Martin gives are up to her.
We wait in the teacher’s lounge. When Martin arrives, she doesn’t appear surprised to see us but she does seem nervous. She wears her black hair in a sleek twist. Her cream-colored trousers and blue shirtare modest. She wears only a simple gold band on her ring finger. She was Shelley Jones when the abduction occurred.
Walt explains that we’re here to talk about Fanning. She flinches when Walt says the name. Then her cheeks redden and her lips tighten. Hearing his name makes her angry, justifiably so.
“I heard on the news that he’s missing.” She says this as if it’s a confession.
“Mrs. Martin,” I begin, “we need to ask you a few questions about him. Is that okay with you?”
She shifts her stern focus to me. “I loathe him. Pray every day that he will die as painfully as possible. He lured me into his car when I was nine years old. I’d gotten lost from my sister at the mall. He took me to the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse and raped me.” She swallows hard. “He left me there naked, injured, and terrified. I gave the police his description, but they never found him. There was no evidence because he wore a condom and kept my clothes to ensure nothing from him or his car stuck to what I was wearing. It wasn’t until many years later that he was caught. I came forward and testified against him. I hoped he would rot in prison, but apparently that wasn’t considered the sort of justice he deserved.”
