What Happened to the Bennetts(30)

Lucinda shifted upward. “Moonie?”

The movement woke Ethan, blinking. “What’s going on?”

Moonie growled louder, baring his teeth. His round brown eyes bulged as they fixed on me.

“Moonie, no.” I straightened, and Moonie jumped up, still growling.

Lucinda recoiled, surprised. “Be careful. I think he wants to bite you.”

Ethan reached for the dog, who allowed himself to be taken. “He thinks you’re mad at him.”

“Why?”

“You know, for what happened.”

Lucinda and I exchanged looks. I sensed we weren’t talking about the dog. “Well, I love him and I’m not mad at him.”

“Good.” Ethan flopped back down with the dog, who snuggled against him, eyeing me.

I sat down and patted Ethan’s foot. “Buddy, how you doing?”

“Okay.”

“How about pancakes?”

“Nah.”

“Banana pancakes?”

“No, thanks.” Ethan leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Why don’t you get up?” I wanted to keep him on a normal schedule. “It’s a nice day. Let’s go take a beach walk. Maybe we’ll see a heron.”

“A what?”

“It’s a bird. They’re huge, and blue. They’re amazing. Dom says the other agent knows all about them. He knows about the marsh, too. Maybe we can take him along.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m tired.”

Lucinda shook her head, warning me off.

“Okay, maybe another time. Guess what, I have good news. Dom’s going to get protection for Mom and Melissa.”

“That’s great.” Lucinda smiled.

“Plus, I asked him to send her a message, saying not to worry about us.”

“Will he do it?”

“He said it wasn’t likely, but I pressed him. I told him they should get word to Melissa or she’ll raise a Facebook posse.”

“Wait,” Lucinda said. “You didn’t tell him I went on Facebook, did you?”

“Yes, but you weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Still, you told him?” Lucinda’s eyes flared, which meant more disapproval.

“I had to tell him how I knew.”

“That was between us. You should have discussed it with me.”

Ethan perked up. “Mom, you went on Facebook?”

Lucinda turned to Ethan. “Not on my own account. I went on under my intern’s.”

Ethan shifted up in bed. “Can I go on Insta?”

“No,” I answered, because Lucinda was giving me a see-what-you-started look. “Dom doesn’t want us to—”

“Jason,” Lucinda interrupted. “Is Dom pissed at me now?”

“No, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal to bust me? To the FBI?”

Ethan looked from his mother to me and back again, and I realized the conversation was taking a wrong turn.

“Honey, it’s okay, really. He’s going to talk to his boss and—”

“Oh, great.” Lucinda rolled her eyes. “What did he say, exactly? Tell me.”

“I thought you wanted me to get protection after the fire—”

“What fire?” Ethan interrupted, and we both looked over, remembering at the same moment that we hadn’t told him yet.

Lucinda touched his arm. “Ethan, something happened last night while you were asleep. These criminals, the men who, you know . . . they set fire to the house.”

Ethan recoiled, his lips parting. “They burned our house? Did they burn our stuff? Inside?”

Lucinda’s eyes began to glisten, so I answered for her. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“All our stuff?” Ethan looked stricken, his eyebrows sloping down. “I had ashes in my room. Wendy’s and Max’s. Their ashes. That’s like their graves.”

He meant our old dog and cat. He hadn’t talked about those pets for years.

Our vet had given us the cremains in small cedar boxes, and Ethan put them in his bedroom, which Allison had teased him about.

Bro, you’re the crypt keeper.

“Remember, Dad? Do you know if they burned up?”

“I think they did, I’m sorry,” I answered gently.

“But you can’t burn ashes.” Ethan ran a dry tongue over his braces. “Dad, can we go check? People go back to their houses for stuff that didn’t get burned up. I see that on the news.”

“We can’t do that now.”

“Why not? Or maybe the FBI guy can do it? Dom, your friend?”

Lucinda caught my eye at your friend.

“Ethan, I’ll talk to him. We have a right to ask.”

“You and your rights,” Lucinda said, edgy.

“What’s that mean?” My heart knew what she meant before my brain did. I flashed on the night Allison was murdered, when Milo started tailgating and I didn’t want to speed up.

We have a right to enjoy the drive.

I knew that was what she meant, but it felt unsayable. Marriage was reading each other’s minds, but knowing what had to remain unsaid. It killed me to think she blamed me for Allison, even though I was already blaming myself, a fact I had managed to suppress until now.