What Happened to the Bennetts(45)

“How did they get it?” Lucinda advanced uncertainly, her heartbroken gaze on the molding.

“I told them if it wasn’t damaged, they should salvage it.” I held out the molding, and Lucinda took it from me, scanning the measurements, with Allison’s IM SOOOOOOOO BIG!!!!!!! staring her in the face.

“I should’ve told you.”

“No, it’s okay.” Lucinda bit her lip, her gaze still on the measurements. “I want it. We should keep it safe.”

Ethan looked from her to me. “I’m going upstairs,” he said, turning away.





Chapter Twenty-Four



The next morning, Dom and I ran together under a cloudy gray sky. I was breathing hard even though we had just left. We usually ran in silence in the beginning, which gave me time to warm up. The street was deserted, as usual. There was no breeze, and the air hung heavy. We ran past the trees, our footfalls scruffy in the gritty sand. The seagulls squawked above, flying in and out of clouds.

My side stitch started in. “This is rugged,” I heard myself say.

“I can slow down.”

“Good, I have no pride.”

Dom slowed the pace. “What you lack is swag.”

“I never had swag. I had a hairnet.”

“Whatever that means.”

“You don’t wanna know, and I can’t talk with a side stitch.”

Dom smiled. “You had swag in your Gitmo days, Mr. Top Secret.”

“That’s Colonel Top Secret to you, sir.”

Dom chuckled. “Hey, sorry about last night. Seemed like I came in at the wrong time.”

“I wanted to surprise her. Unfortunately, I did.”

“Was she upset?”

“Yes.” Lucinda had cried most of the night, though she wanted the molding. We talked about how we both felt guilty for having fun. “I think we’re going to be sad for a long time. We should be. That made it worse, you know. We were having a good time.”

“I know what you mean, but life has to go on.”

“Not just yet,” I shot back.

Dom fell silent for a few strides. “I didn’t mean to be flip. You know that’s normal, the ups and downs. All that is normal. It’s part of grief.”

“I know.”

“You do know. You lost your dad.”

“Yes.” I had thought of that, but it never helped. “This is different. Maybe all deaths are different, but my father, I expected. I had time to prepare. We knew, he knew.” I thought back. “I held his hand in hospice. I helped him change. I swabbed his mouth. He was at peace. He passed away. I never knew the term could be apt, but it truly applied to him. He passed.”

“You were blessed.”

“But this is different.” My chest felt tight. “You’re not supposed to bury your child.”

“I know.” Dom’s voice softened. “How’s Ethan?”

“Not good. It’s time to set up therapy for us, as a family.”

“That’s a good idea.”

I flashed on that night, on Coldstream. The gunshot, the blood. “How do you deal with violence, in your job? I mean, when you were undercover.”

“I’m trained for it. You’re not, and neither is your family.”

“You don’t get PTSD?”

“No, just nightmares.” Dom smiled wryly.

“On another topic, about my mother-in-law. Is there any way we can let Lucinda visit her? Just once, so they can lay eyes on each other? My wife is worried about her.”

“Why? She’s in Bay Horse. That place is nice.”

“Yes, but Lucinda still worries, and I get that.” My side stitch began to ebb away. We ran past the house with the junk in the front yard. “We got the funeral coming up. I just need one thing good to happen for her, just one.”

“Why not a phone call? I bet I can get you a phone call.”

“No, my mother-in-law won’t know what’s going on. I’d settle for a Zoom. We could say that we couldn’t make the visit, so we’re doing it on the computer.”

“What about the staff?”

“Call the CEO. He’ll keep it confidential. You’re the FBI, for God’s sake.”

“The problem is the staff, the other patients, the visitors. If the community knows you’re missing, the staff has to know, too.” A sweat broke on Dom’s forehead. “Your wife can’t suddenly have a Zoom call with your mother without raising suspicion. Why is she doing that? Where is she? Why didn’t you call in? It’s a can of worms.”

“We have to figure out another way. Put me on the phone with Gremmie. If I have to beg him, I will.”

“You won’t have to beg Gremmie, I’ll beg Gremmie.”

“Dom, let me mention something else. Did you ever go online and see these citizen detectives, they call themselves?”

“Yes, what a pain in the ass.”

“Well, there’s a lot of them, and one in particular, Bryan Krieger. He’s writing that I killed my family and I’m on the run.”

“I saw that.”

“So you knew?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s my job to know. I’m all about the Bennetts.”