David controlled his flinch, knowing she was watching him. God help me if you ever do understand, he thought as the pictures from the past flooded his mind. Broken bodies. And so much blood. It had been eighteen years and his throat still closed when he thought of Megan, huddled over her brother’s small body, protecting him with her last breath.
Because he’d been a headstrong, bullheaded narcissistic fool who’d cared for no one but himself. Their blood was on his hands.
He realized he was staring at his hands and looked up. His mother watched him with worried eyes. He forced a smile. “No real mystery. Dad died, and you and Max needed help with his therapy to walk again.” The car accident that had killed his father and paralyzed his brother had been another defining moment in his life. Helping his brother had become his salvation, the way to claw out of the abyss into which he’d fallen. After Megan. After that, service had become… necessary. “I had to grow up.”
“And you did,” she said, her gaze piercing as she studied him. “I know how much Max appreciates it. You dropped out of college after only one semester, gave up your own sports dream to get him through physical therapy, get him back on his feet again.”
He wanted to wince at the lie she’d always taken as truth, but didn’t. He’d already dropped out of college before his father’s accident, but his mother didn’t know that. He’d been failing, unable to concentrate on his studies. Unable to sleep. Unable to make the pictures in his mind go away. Nursing his brother back to health all those years ago had been the excuse he’d needed to keep his family from finding out what a failure he really was.
“He needed me,” David managed. His throat was raw, his chest hurt. He’d never understood the people who became comfortable with a lie. Eighteen years and it still tore him up inside.
“Yes.” His mother still watched him and he fought the urge to squirm. “But that still doesn’t explain why you picked women’s shelters and charities. Even before Dana’s shelter, that’s how you spent your time. Always working. Always helping.”
“It’s a good cause.”
“Yes. When it’s a cause. But for you, it’s more than that.” She sighed. “David, I was so devastated when your father died, events that happened around that time seemed to disappear. But the years passed and it began to occur to me that your focus on charity wasn’t a passing fancy or even a healthy hobby. It was your life, at the exclusion of everything else adults normally seek. No girlfriends, nobody special. I looked back, tried to figure out when it started. I started thinking about that year. There was a tragedy in the neighborhood the spring before your dad died.”
A tragedy. Yes, it had been that. A tragedy that could have been completely avoided if he hadn’t been so full of himself. He said nothing. He wasn’t sure he could.
“Your friend died,” she said softly. “Her name was Megan, wasn’t it?”
He swallowed. Nodded.
“Her stepfather was a monster,” his mother murmured.
He swallowed again, the scene so clear in his mind. “Yes,” he whispered.
“He killed his whole family. I think we all thought it was sad, that we wished we’d known he was capable of such evil. I never considered how deeply Megan’s death impacted you. I should have. You’d been close in junior high. I’m sorry for that, David. I was so wrapped up in getting by after your dad died… and you were always so strong and steady. I never saw you were hurting. I’m sorry for that, too.”
He lifted his eyes to hers. She was sorry? She’d done nothing wrong. Not like me. He cleared his throat, hoped his voice would be level. “Why bring all that up now?”
She sat back in her chair. “Because I’ve thought about this for a long time and have wanted to ask you so many times. It never seemed like the right time, so I left it alone. I don’t suppose you understand that.”
He thought of Olivia, of how he’d put things off far too long. “More than you think.”
She leaned forward, covered his hand with hers. “For years I watched you donate your time and your talent to worthy causes. But during those same years I watched you be so alone it’s made my heart break. But you’re a man grown, so I kept my counsel.”
“And now?”
“Now… you look like you’re trying to start your life again. So I come to visit, hoping to find you settled. Instead I find an empty apartment and a son who’s still alone. Who still volunteers every waking moment of his time to others.”
David squared his jaw, looked away. “That’s not wrong.”
“Not when it’s for the right reasons. I’m not sure your reasons are the right ones. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing penance.”
He met her eyes, helplessly miserable. He wanted to deny her words, but could not.
Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought so. Some- times, when you think no one can see, you get this look in your eyes. Like you carry the world on your shoulders. Why?”
His chest was too tight. But she was waiting. I can’t tell her the truth. Not all. So he carved away enough of the truth to make the pain on her face go away. “I saw it. The crime scene.”
Confused, she blinked, sending the tears down her cheeks. “What?”
“I was coming home from my friend’s house. You all were at Mass that morning. I saw police cars in front of Megan’s house, and I ran up to see. And I saw them. Dead.”
His mother blanched, horrified. “Dear God. Megan, her mother… they were…”
He nodded, kept his voice steady. “Beaten to death. Yes.”
She sat across the table, stunned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Because I was ashamed. I still am. And I don’t want you to ever know what I did.
He shrugged. “I guess I was in shock. I was eighteen, Ma. Boys that age don’t get all emotional about things like that.” Which was a lie. He had been emotional. He’d nearly lost his mind. “But I remembered it. And I needed to do something to keep it from happening again. I can’t help the women themselves, but I can help the shelters.”
His mother blinked again, struggling for composure. “David, I wish you’d told me then. I can’t imagine what you saw. We should have gotten you help. Therapy.”
“I was eighteen, Ma. I wouldn’t have gone to therapy.” Hell, he hadn’t even told his priest. “So stop blaming yourself.”
She nodded uncertainly. “Well, that does explain a lot.” She looked at him, her eyes intense. “You do know there’s nothing you could do to make me not love you.”
And he realized she knew he lied still. “Yeah. I know.”
She reached for his hands, squeezed them fiercely. “I’m proud of you. Never forget that.” She sat back briskly. “Now, about where I’m going to stay.”
“Here,” he said firmly, relieved that was over. “You’re going to stay here. You need to check out all the apartments, get a feel for colors.”
“That would be best. I’m going carpet shopping,” she said. “If you’re going out tonight, you should get some rest.”
“Drive carefully, Ma.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. I love you, too.”
He watched her leave, then sagged into a chair, his eyes closed, drained. But it would be fruitless to try to sleep. His mind was churning along with his gut. It happened every time he remembered that day. Today it was worse, lying to his mother.
He rose wearily. He had time to lay the floor in 2A. He could have the girls’ new fridge put in the living room until the floor was set. But first he sent a short text to Olivia with the address of Glenn’s fishing cabin. It was quiet there. They could talk.
I should have done it earlier. I’ve been a coward. He supposed after tonight there would be one less mystery in his life.
At least I’ll know exactly what I did the night I spent with Olivia Sutherland.