Someone Else's Husband(96)

And so what does that make me—a monster, a whore? Or just lonely, human. Alive. Maybe I am all those things—and always will be—whether I climb one mountain or a hundred.

“What’s going on, Frankie?” Richard asks. He sounds concerned as he leads me into the kitchen. “Come sit. Let me get you some water.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?”

“Absolutely fine. Gretchen’s off at tennis and then headed straight to a full day of benefit meetings, so you’ve missed her.” On his way to the sink, he reaches out as if to put a hand on my shoulder but stops short. His hesitation sucks the wind out of me. “I’m glad you’re here. I was going to text you again. Something has been bothering me.”

I brace myself. “Oh, yeah—what’s that?”

“Are you sure that Van was right behind you?”

This is what he wants to talk about? “You mean before he fell?”

He nods. “It’s been bugging me ever since we talked about it after dinner at Las Nacionales.”

“Yeah, I think so.” I replay those last moments again. “I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but I remember Van said something, and he was right behind me. Then Kito came up to ask me if I was okay, so it would have been Van and then Brooks in back.”

Richard rubs his chin, deep in thought. “But Brooks said he was in front of Van, that’s why he didn’t see what happened.”

“Maybe he felt bad?” I shrug. “Wanted to pretend he didn’t see it?”

“That doesn’t sound like Brooks,” Richard says. “He also made a lot of money because Van didn’t get down from the mountain. He was going to call off the sale.”

“I thought Brooks was rich already.”

“Yes, but I found out from Scotty that Brooks had to leverage some position in his dad’s company right before the trip. It cleaned him out, apparently. Plus, his wife left him before we went to Tanzania. Scotty told me that, too.”

“You really think he’s capable of what you’re suggesting?” I asked.

It’s Richard’s turn to shrug. “I grew up believing that pretty much anyone is capable of anything. And Brooks…I’ve known him a long time and he’s always had some kind of chip missing. I’m not sure most people notice, or they just think he’s odd. Gretchen definitely doesn’t see it. But the whole nerd persona always struck me as a bit of an act. Brooks is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Did you notice?”

“I don’t know.” I had seen something, though, hadn’t I? When Brooks had come up behind me that day outside the dining tent. Something genuinely sharp and menacing beneath all the awkwardness.

“Maybe I’ll message Kito and see if he knows—he walked past them on his way to check on you.” He pauses. “Anyway, let’s get back to you in your pajamas and no shoes…”

“There was somebody in my apartment,” I say. “I got scared and ran out. Left my keys.”

Richard takes a step toward me. “What do you mean? Who was in your apartment?”

It sounds even worse now that I’ve said it out loud. “I don’t know. I started painting and then I heard a noise and…the window was open. I ran out the front door. I never saw who it was.”

“You left the window open?”

“No.” His clear blue eyes are so filled with concern it makes my chest ache. “That’s the thing—I didn’t. I specifically checked them before I went to sleep. I always do. They were closed. And locked.”

“That’s terrifying,” Richard says. This time he does put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it quickly. “This is the same guy, with the picture?”

I nod. “And he sent another one of us together.”

“Holy shit. Did you call the police this time?”

“No,” I say. I am on the verge of tears. “I can’t. I have to talk to a lawyer first. It’s a long story, but I signed this agreement, and I don’t think I can—” My vision blurs, tears running down my cheeks. “I’m sorry…”

Sorry that Richard isn’t mine. Sorry that I can’t call the police like a normal person. Sorry that I’m standing here in some other woman’s home, with her husband.

“You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“What if he sends the pictures to your wife?”

“I’d rather he didn’t.” He hesitates before moving his hand down to my upper arm. “But if it happens, we’ll deal with it.”

A part of me loves hearing this. But a bigger part of me knows that I deserve better. What am I doing?

“Has he asked for money?”

“Not yet,” I say. “He does seem unstable, though. His messages are just really…They don’t even make any sense. Why threaten me, when I’ve stayed quiet all this time?”

“You’re right: It doesn’t make sense. Which seems all the more reason to call the police.”

“Maybe I will.” Richard flashes me a skeptical look. “I mean it. I just need to get home, get dressed.”

He shakes his head like he is shedding the thought. “You know, Gretchen will be out for the whole day. Won’t be back until late.”