Page 87 of The Woman I’ve Become

I nod. “Phillip doesn’t like guns.” I don’t, either, really, but now is not the time to worry about that.

“I’ll make a run to my place,” Helen offers. “My husband had loads of them. I’ll bring all the weapons and ammo we’ll need.”

I’ve never once heard Helen say much about guns one way or the other. I was aware she owned one or more. Still, I really don’t want her to leave alone. Mostly to make sure she comes straight back and doesn’t drop in at the chief of police’s office. She may think we’re all batshit crazy, and she wouldn’t be far off the mark on two out of the three.

“That’s a great idea, Helen,” I say. “Ali—Acacia, you go with her and help. Move fast so we can lock everything up and decide on a watch strategy.”

I have a bad feeling about all of this, but it’s the only viable route I can see at the moment. Survival is the singular goal just now. If the boyfriend shows up, he may decide it’s time to cut their losses and disappear.

Alicia glances from me to Julia. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible.”

As they leave by the kitchen’s side door, Helen is gabbing about how she intends to bring extra flashlights and batteries just in case the power and the generator go out. I tag along behind them and lock the door. For a moment I stand there staring out at the gloomy day. Looks like the weather isn’t ready to behave yet. Helen may have the right idea about the power. Most people in the area have generators for that reason.

I almost laugh out loud since the weather is the least of my worries. I turn to find Julia watching me.

It feels strange to be alone with her, especially in this house—her house.

“I guess we should call Agent Howard.”

I nod and go in search of my cell phone. Thankfully the aspirin is softening the edges of the achiness that is my constant companion when I’ve overdone it physically or when the weather is like it is now. I pick up my phone from the coffee table and notice that it’s almost two. Olivia will be headed to or arriving at her friend’s birthday party about now. I wish I could protect her from all this. But the truth is, I realize, I can’t, not fully, anyway. Whatever happens tonight or tomorrow or the next day, none of us will be spared some element of the fallout.

I tap Rick’s name in my contact list. He may still be annoyed at my dismissal of him the other night, but he should have known better than to beat around the bush about the delivery guy. It would have been so much better had he simply told me the way things actually happened.

I have him pegged as someone who just isn’t capable of the simple truth. A good liar should always recognize a fellow fabulist.

“Rick, I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday afternoon.”

Of course he insists it’s no bother and reminds me that he has been bugging me about calling him if I need anything.

“Something’s happened that I think we need to discuss in person. Can you come over? I realize it’s short notice, but it’s important.”

He’s in a meeting with a prospective client but he assures me he will come within the hour.

I end the call and turn to Julia. “He’s in a meeting, but he says he’ll be here within the hour.”

“When I was out of that house . . .” Julia hugs her arms around herself, appearing vulnerable. “I thought, thank God it’s finally over.” Her gaze connects to mine. “But it wasn’t. It was just the beginning of a new nightmare for me. You had taken over my life. How could I expose you without exposing myself? I’m not looking forward to seeing Rick’s judgment, much less the rest of the world’s.”

“We won’t tell him anything he doesn’t need to know.” Personally I would prefer to leave him out entirely.

Julia returns to the sofa. Maybe because she’s tired of standing or maybe because she thinks I need to sit down. We’re both pretty screwed up. I bypass the dining room chair where they tied me up and settle into the side chair that is my favorite. I am so tired, but I’m not saying that out loud. And I’m cold. Not giving any indication of that either.

“Alicia told me the details of the accident. It sounds as if you were very lucky to survive.”

“Very lucky,” I agree.

“Otherwise, you’ve certainly done well for yourself.” There is a distinct edge to her voice now.

“I’ve done well enough.”

She should know this life better than me. I’ve only lived in it for ten years. Before that I was on the street as often as I was housed. At least until I was a prisoner. That nine-plus years didn’t count as a home no matter how rich the guy was.

“How did you and your husband meet?”

This is beyond strange. Having this conversation with my old friend like nothing apocalyptic happened. The same friend who left me without a backward glance. Who would ever have thought it?

“I was the counselor at one of the women’s centers, and he was on the board that oversaw a number of the centers. This was the newest one to be opened, so the board members were there for a tour of the facility.” I sigh. “The director asked me to conduct the tour. By the end of it, Phillip had asked me to dinner.”

“Nice story.” She stares out the window that looks onto the lake as I often do.