Page 59 of Cakewalk

“I love you, Holden,” she said in between kisses, the sound of the old wall clock in the dining room signaling that it was midnight.

“And I you, Gigi. And I you…”

25

Gigi

The chime of the doorbell rang through the living room, disrupting Gigi from her perfect dream world. In it, she and Holden were hanging out on a playground, a little boy and girl playing on the swing set. The little boy was the spitting image of his daddy, with those piercing blue eyes and dark hair, while the little girl had matched her own blonde locks, but instead of her gray eyes, she’d been gifted with the same blue as the boy’s. Holden alternated pushing their son and daughter, each one laughing, screaming “higher, Daddy!” as he laughed right along with them. It all felt so real, until the doorbell pierced through once again, dragging her back into real life.

Holden wants that too, she thought. So maybe that could be real life. Just as soon as you explain…

Ding! Ding! Ding!

It rang out again, in rapid succession, with whomever was at the door obviously growing impatient. Frustrated, Gigi threw off the quilt that they had snuggled under after watching a movie last night and pushed herself up from the mattress.

“It’s a little early for guests,” Holden muttered, rolling over and looking at his phone. “Who the fuck is awake at eight thirty on New Year’s Day?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Gigi said, opening the door.

Standing on the other side, dressed in his police uniform, was Officer Nelligan, accompanied by another man Gigi had never seen. His companion was older, late forties maybe, and wearing a tan trench coat over his suit, making him look like something out of an old detective movie.

“Officer Nelligan,” Gigi said, suddenly feeling very awake. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Hi, Miss Gigi. May we come in?”

“Of course. Where are my manners?”

The two gentlemen stepped inside, shaking the snow from their feet, their faces serious. They only came in far enough for her to close the door, which made Gigi nervous, but she tried to shake it off. She was sure there was a perfectly good reason for them being here so early on a holiday.

“Miss Gigi, this is Detective Ball from the Vermont State Police. We’ve come to talk to you about your role in the death of your husband, Bradley Preston Hawthorne.”

“My role?” she asked. Wait…did he say… “Hold on, his death?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Detective Ball said, taking a step forward. “We received a call from the Georgia State Police yesterday informing us that they’ve been searching for you.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Seems your husband’s body was found under some…suspicious circumstances.”

“Suspicious circumstances?” she repeated, not fully comprehending what she was hearing. Bradley was dead? There was no way. He was alive and well when she left. He was getting ready to walk down the aisle, expecting to find her there to renew their vows. Now he was dead? No, they must have the wrong person.

“Yes, ma’am,” Detective Ball confirmed, his face still like stone. “He was found floating in Lake Lanier.”

Bradley was dead. Actually dead. Not fake dead like she’d been saying all this time. She was really, actually free of him. The room started to spin a little as she took in the news. She couldn’t believe it. He was gone. She had no idea what he’d been doing up at Lake Lanier, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that the new life she wanted with Holden could truly be a reality.

“Mrs. Hawthorne, you seem to have disappeared from Atlanta on the tenth of October. Leaving behind everything. You left no note, told no one where you were going. Just up and left. Why is that?”

“I…I…” she stumbled, not sure how to answer that. Did they really think she had something to do with this?

“What’s going on here?” Holden asked, startling her as he stumbled over, rubbing the sleep from his face. She’d been so focused on what the detective was trying to tell her that she’d forgotten he’d still been in bed.

“Who are you?” Detective Ball asked in return, looking Holden up and down.

“I’m Holden St. James. This is my house. Who are you?”

“Detective Ball, Vermont State Police. I believe you know Officer Nelligan,” he answered, nodding at the semi-guilty looking Colebury cop standing next to him. Holden nodded. “We’re here to inform Mrs. Hawthorne of her husband’s death and to find out what her involvement may be.”

“His death? He’s been dead for months,” Holden said.