Page 16 of Two Couples

“Right. Their treatment would be even more aggressive with adults. In their opinion, they were probably easy on a kid. Being arrested would destroy my career. Since I didn’t know the guy and am one hundred percent sure it has nothing to do with us, I’m not willing to risk that.”

“Why doesn’t Patrick get it that no matter what we do, we’d be in trouble?” Emily asked. “Any one of us, or all of us could be arrested.”

“He doesn’t think that will happen,” I said. “Some of his friends are cops. He thinks we’re misjudging them—turning one unfortunate experience into a universal fact.”

“He wasn’t there.” Keith’s voice rose. “Being called a liar by someone with that kind of authority over you is terrifying. Life-changing.”

We sat in silence for several minutes, watching Patrick, each of us brooding about our own fears. At least I was. I assumed Emily and Keith were also.

I wanted my husband to understand me. I wanted him to feel what I felt, but it seemed impossible for him to do that. That realization hurt more than I wanted to think about. Actually, I didn’t want to think about anything. I wanted to go back in time.

Patrick would tell me to face reality and do the right thing. Doing the right thing always paid off, he believed. He was a firm believer in responsibility and actions being more important than words or feelings. He thought if you expressed concern for someone’s plight but did nothing to help, you were posturing. You were lying to yourself, and lying to other people, pretending you were someone you weren’t. If you cared, you acted. It was simple in his mind.

Even before we’d woken up to find the body had disappeared from under the tarp, Patrick told me I was letting unresolved trauma stop me from doing what was right for someone else. He said I was correlating two things that were completely unrelated. The more I tried to explain, the more he dismissed my feelings. He said my despair over Celie’s death had distorted my view of reality. He thought I was making too much of the note, that it wasn’t meant for us.

I disagreed. The note scrawled on the window confirmed that the first note was directed at us. Someone was watching us.

After we talked about the note and what it might mean, I’d gone to sleep. As irrational as it was, I felt like he cared more about a man he’d never seen before in his life than he did about me, and my feelings, our life. It wasn’t as if he was deliberately cruel to me, it was just that I felt unimportant to him. He believed we found purpose in life through helping people. If both of us help our neighbors, we’ll be together. It would make our relationship stronger. Living for yourself is a meaningless existence.

I understood what he was trying to say. But it still felt like neglect, despite my understanding.

“He’s digging like a maniac,” Emily said. “If he…”

No one spoke for several minutes, trying not to finish her sentence for her. Trying not to think at all. It seemed to be the only thing I’d done since we found him—tried not to think.

“I just… why can’t you get him to stop?” Emily looked at me, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses, her lips pressed tightly together.

“His mind is set and I can’t change it.”

A sharp clang pierced the air. We stood and hurried to the railing. Patrick was standing back from where he’d been digging, staring at the torn-up earth and whatever was hidden from our view.

Emily looked at me. Keith leaned over the railing, as if the extra six inches would allow him to see what Patrick was looking at.

“What is it?” Keith called.

Patrick ignored him. He began shoveling dirt back into the shallow hole he’d created. He kicked pine needles in with the dirt. A few minutes later, he grabbed the pick and began walking toward the side of the house.

I ran down the steps and past the pool, catching up to him and grabbing his arm. “What was it?”

“I hit a boulder. It’s solid rock under there. I’m not sure how the tree roots survive.”

“I guess we should let it go.”

“No. I’m not letting it go.” He pulled away from me and continued toward the front of the house. I hugged my arms and thought about my hope that during our stay here he would see the closeness in our friends’ marriage, opening his eyes to how much closer we could be. Now, it looked like he was going to completely cut himself off from them. And me.

I ran after him. “Patrick, please.”

“Did you see the new note?” He pointed toward the window.

I walked closer to the house, until the words scrawled on the window came into focus.

I’m watching you.

I gasped softly, putting my hand over my mouth. “That’s terrifying!”

“This is why we need to call the police.” He stalked off to the car, opening the tailgate to put his tools away.

I hurried to the back deck, dragging Emily and Keith with me to see the new message on the window.