Still, I admit, it felt like the right thing to do when we all decided. It was a plan. A plan that needed to happen.
Janie lowers onto the chair arm and puts her arm around me. “Whatever they learned, maybe we don’t need to worry. No matter what someone may have seen, they can’t prove we did anything wrong. We saw the news and we drove by. Big deal. All we have to do is be calm.”
“But what if they go to the cabin?”
For a moment she only stares at me. “We say we weren’t there. Whatever happened was not our doing.”
I stare up at her. She is my lifeline, my one true tether to sanity. I lean into her. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would have done without her. By the time I was in high school, I was ready to end it all. My family never understood. They thought I should hold my head up and move on. Not a single one of them had a damned clue. I couldn’t bear the dreams anymore. I just wanted to die.
But Janie helped me. We faced our tormented pasts together. We became each other’s reason for going on.
She scooches me over and slides down into the big old chair with me. The ragged thing is way past its prime—as is everything in this decrepit apartment. But it’s comfortable, and being frugal here allows us to save for the future.
We have so many plans.
But first we have to get throughthis.
“We just have to stick with the plan,” she reminds me. “We’ve all discussed it. We all have our roles. All we have to do is let this play out.”
I draw in a deep breath. She’s right, but I would have much preferred to know and understand what each of us was doing. We know the expected order of each step but not who carries it out. That way, none of us has to lie to the cops. You can’t lie if you don’t know.
As for the rest, the agreement was that the plan would go with us to our graves. End of story. Anyone who broke and felt the urge to talk would be just as guilty as all the others. No one could claim innocence regardless of their part in this.
Once the steps were decided upon, they were written individually on pieces of paper and folded carefully before being dropped into a small basket. Then we each took a turn drawing from that basket. We read it, privately, of course, then ate the paper. Literally chewed it up and swallowed it like in some spy novel.
When the step drawn was completed, your part was over.
Janie and I decided to combine ours into one—which should have worked perfectly ... except it didn’t.
Now all we have to do is pray and keep it together until the police finish their investigation. I tell myself this again and again.
Strangely, that’s the hardest part.
Nine
Detective Walter Duncan
It’s the holes—the ones that go unrecognized for a little too long—that cause the most trouble in even the best-laid plans.
I sit on the back porch steps, my loyal companion at my side. We both stare out across the lawn for as far as the light will reach through the darkness. I think of Stella’s roses and how inept and pathetic I’ve proven at trying to keep them healthy and blooming. My Stella was a natural with plants. Our yard, front and back, was always a standout in the neighborhood.
Until Stella suddenly got sick, the yard was her domain. Of course, I navigated the lawnmower around the property on Saturdays, kept the grass trimmings up, but the rest was her territory and she had shooed me out of her flowerbeds more than once. She would be horrified if she could see the overgrown mess they have become. I’m glad it’s dark and I don’t have to look at them.
The funny thing I just realized when I sat down on these steps this evening is that in all my elaborate planning and thorough consideration for my own demise I forgot the most important thing in my life, besides Liv and my work—Sandy. At eighty-five pounds and taller than me when she stands on her hind legs, my yellow Lab should be hard toforget. And yet, I left her completely out of the scenario until that call from the vet.
Back when Stella’s final arrangements were made, I made my own. I’m to be buried next to my wife without the bother of a funeral. I told the funeral director to do what he had to do and plant me, no frills, no fuss. My house, everything inside it, and the SUV I bequeathed to Stella’s favorite charity. She and I donated her car to the charity before she closed her eyes for the last time. I considered leaving my savings and insurance money to Liv, but she doesn’t need it. She would be the first to say her parents left her far more than she will ever need. So I decided to assign it to my favorite charity—the families of wounded and fallen officers. My fellow officers are the only real family I have. Like Liv, I was an only child. Parents are long gone. I was never close to the few distant cousins I met as a kid.
I’ve been so thorough with all the necessary final arrangements. How in the world did I allow anything—especially something as important as my sweet Sandy—to fall through the cracks in my preparations?
Thank God I don’t have to worry about that anymore. At least not for a while. But I do need to make a decision, just in case I get in an accident or have a heart attack or get shot in the line of duty.
Leaving a dog behind is a true dilemma, not like the money or the material possessions. I’m reasonably sure Liv would take her in a heartbeat, but I don’t know about the fiancé. Maybe I could bring up the subject of pets with her and get a feel for Preston’s take on such things.
“Don’t worry, girl.” I rub Sandy’s back and pull her against me. “I’ll make sure you have a good home for when the time comes.”
I toss the tennis ball Sandy loves to chase and wait for her to bring it back to me, then I throw it again. At least one of us will get some exercise today. I expect the cardiologist will be taking that issue up with me. Along with diet and such. I’ll have to lay off the JD. He and I became a little too well acquainted after Stella died.
A blast of heavy air puffs out of me. Other than the coughing jags and some chest discomfort, I haven’t had too much trouble.
