PART6

Eddie was staying in a small motel outside Marathon.

When I arrived with Ione, he was standing beside an old pickup truck.

He looked older than I remembered.

His hair had gone almost completely gray, and his shoulders were bent forward.

When he saw me, he removed his cap.

“Mrs. Ashby.”

“Eddie.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he said, “I’m sorry.”

I looked at him.

“Why?”

“For not telling you sooner.”

I sighed.

“You can’t change what happened. Just tell me what you know.”

He nodded.

We went inside his motel room.

He placed a thick brown envelope on the table.

Inside were photocopies of bank statements, business records, receipts, and several pages of handwritten notes.

I recognized Lamar’s handwriting immediately.

The same handwriting that had written his telephone number beside my landline.

The same handwriting that had signed our Christmas cards.

The same handwriting that had written little notes on the refrigerator.

I picked up one page.

At the top was written:

PROJECT NEW LIFE.

Below it were several amounts.

$60,000.

$45,000.

$72,500.

$62,500.

Total: $240,000.

I looked at Eddie.

“What’s this?”

“Money Lamar moved out of the bait shop over several months.”

“Why?”

“He was planning to leave.”

“With Rhoda?”

Eddie nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I sat down.

“How long had he been planning it?”

“At least six months before the disappearance.”

I stared at the papers.

Six months.

While I was cooking his meals, washing his clothes, and asking him whether he wanted coffee, he was planning to erase himself from my life.

Eddie continued.

“There was a problem, though. He couldn’t just leave without dealing with the business loans.”

“What problem?”

“Some of the debts were secured by your signature. He had also used your name on additional paperwork.”

I looked at him.

“Without my permission?”

“That’s what I believe.”

I turned another page.

There were copies of documents with my name at the bottom.

Some signatures looked familiar.

Others didn’t.

One had been dated on a day when I was working a twelve-hour shift at the hospital.

I remembered that day clearly.

I had come home exhausted.

Lamar had made me tea.

He had told me I needed to get some rest.

Apparently, he had also been preparing to steal my future.

I put the documents down.

“Where is the storage unit?”

Eddie gave me an address.

“It’s in Georgia. I can take you there, but I think the police should know.”

“Detective Walker already knows.”

“Then I’ll cooperate.”

He looked down at his hands.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

I waited.

“When Lamar first told me about the plan, I thought he was going to run away because the business was failing. I didn’t know Rhoda was involved.”

“What happened?”

“He told me he had a way to make the debts disappear. He said you would be taken care of.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Taken care of?”

Eddie looked ashamed.

“That’s what he said.”

I shook my head.

“Well, he certainly took care of himself.”

Eddie opened another folder.

“There’s one more thing.”

Inside was a copy of an insurance document.

It was not the bait shop insurance.

It was a life insurance policy.

The beneficiary section had been changed.

I read it twice.

My name was no longer listed.

Instead, the beneficiary was a company registered under a different name.

I looked up.

“What is this?”

Eddie explained that Lamar had been attempting to restructure several financial arrangements before disappearing. He didn’t know whether every document had been processed, but he had kept copies because he feared being blamed.

I handed the paperwork to Ione.

She looked at it and shook her head.

“That man didn’t just leave his wife. He planned every step.”

I didn’t answer.

I was beginning to understand that the worst betrayal wasn’t the affair.

It was the planning.

The months of pretending.

The lies told over breakfast.

The way he had kissed my forehead before going fishing, knowing he might never come home.

At noon, Detective Walker called.

“Mrs. Ashby, we’ve spoken with the authorities in Georgia. They’re aware of the documents you’ve provided.”

“Have they found anything?”

“We’re looking into the business account and the identity used to open it.”

“What about Lamar?”

“We’ve located a possible address in Marathon.”

My heart skipped.

“You’re going to arrest him?”

“We’re still establishing the facts. But I want you to stay somewhere safe and avoid contact with him.”

I thanked him.

When I hung up, Eddie looked at me.

“They know where he is?”

“Apparently.”

He nodded.

“Then he’s going to panic.”

He was right.

Because at three forty-seven that afternoon, my phone rang.

Lamar.

I stared at his name for several seconds.

Ione looked at me.

“Don’t answer.”

But I wanted to hear his voice.

Not because I missed it.

Because I wanted to know whether the man I had loved for forty-seven years still had one honest word left inside him.

I answered.

“Hello.”

“Roberta.”

His voice was strained.

“Where are you?”

“Why?”

“We need to talk.”

“We talked yesterday.”

“Not like this.”

I looked at the window.

Sunlight was coming through the curtains.

“Then tell me what you want.”

He breathed heavily.

“I know you’ve been talking to Eddie.”

“Yes.”

“That man is lying to you.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

I almost smiled.

“That’s an interesting thing for you to say.”

“Roberta, listen to me. Rhoda and I made mistakes. I know that. But the money was complicated.”

“Two hundred and forty thousand dollars complicated?”

Silence.

Then he said, “Where did you get that number?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!”

His voice suddenly rose.

I held the phone away from my ear.

For the first time, I heard fear in his voice.

Not guilt.

Not sorrow.

Fear.

“Roberta, I can explain the money. But you need to stop talking to the police.”

I closed my eyes.

There it was.

The same man who had let me bury an empty casket was now asking me to protect him from the consequences.

“Why should I?”

“Because we’re still married.”

I looked at the wedding ring sitting on the hotel desk.

“Are we?”

“Of course we are.”

“Then where were you when I needed a husband?”

He didn’t answer.

“Where were you when I sold the truck?”

Nothing.

“Where were you when the bank took the bait shop?”

Silence.

“Where were you when I sat alone at Christmas with two plates on the table?”

His breathing became louder.

“Roberta, I made a mistake.”

I laughed softly.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART7…