The Good Widow_A Novel Read online

  I can’t help but wonder if something happened between him and Dylan. If they’d argued—maybe about the pregnancy?—and his temper had gotten the best of him, of them. Maybe he’d accidentally caused the crash because he’d done something stupid like swerve the car on purpose. I ask Officer Keoloha about this now, not mentioning our fight.

  “Mrs. Morales, there’s no reason to suspect this was anything other than a tragic accident. What happened between them in the Jeep before it crashed, we will never know. Could they have been fighting when it happened? Sure. But still. To be so careless while driving up here? When there are cliffs this steep? I’m just not sure why anyone would be reckless like that, no matter how angry they might be. I know this might be hard to hear, but like I’ve mentioned before, eyewitnesses who saw them picnicking said they looked happy. They purchased wine at that store, but we’re certain James was driving, and there wasn’t a way to test his . . .” He clears his throat. “Sadly, accidents on this part of the road are much more common than we’d like. There’s a reason most car rental companies won’t rent to people planning to drive this side. It’s dangerous, especially as it gets later in the afternoon—the sun becomes blinding.”

  Beth interjects. “I agree with the officer, Jacks. I just don’t think James would do anything to jeopardize another person’s life.”

  “I’m sure you’re right” is all I say, because that’s what I want to believe. Even though I know James was capable of letting his anger outweigh his common sense.

  “How were you able to pinpoint the time of day it happened?” Beth asks the officer.

  “According to a police report that was filed by Dylan, her purse was stolen out of their Jeep while she and James were at the Seven Sacred Pools. She called in the theft at about four thirty and mentioned she’d been searching for it for an hour.”

  “You never told me this before now?” I ask. “Why?

  “Well, it wasn’t relevant, in my opinion. It was her purse, her police report. I didn’t consider it information you’d need or want.”

  “I guess it’s not.” I sigh. It wasn’t relevant to me per se, but it was another piece of information that would always stick in my mind. More what-ifs. What if her purse hadn’t been stolen? What if it hadn’t been so late in the day?

  The SUV hits several dips and potholes, and I grab the oh-shit handle again.

  “Okay, Jacks, the area where we think the Jeep crashed is just up here, off a cliff that’s about six hundred feet high,” he says, letting his words settle in. I look through his window to the edge of the road, where the only thing separating us from the ocean below is a thick wall of tropical plants and flowers. I look behind me to gauge how steep this cliff is and grab the edge of the seat. It’s high.

  “There’s no place to pull over, so I’m going to have to use my car to stop traffic both ways. There shouldn’t be many vehicles on the road. But you’ll still need to be quick.”

  “Are you sure you can do that?”

  “You came all the way out here to see this; it’s the least I can do,” he says, parking the car diagonally and turning on the red-and-blue flashing lights.

  “Okay,” I say, feeling my heart collapse into itself as I open my door and look over my shoulder in case any cars are coming up behind us, still thinking about that truck that came barreling around the corner. I suddenly have trouble catching my breath—as if I’ve been running from something. But I haven’t, I remind myself. I will finally be running toward something. Denial will have no place once I look over that edge.

  Beth places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m right here, okay?”

  It begins to rain again. As we start to make our way to the edge, Officer Keoloha stops us. “I just want to prepare you. It’s a long way down. The lava rocks down there are sharp . . .” He trails off.

  “You can talk to me about this like you would anyone else. Please finish what you were going to say.”

  Officer Keoloha gives me a long look before continuing. “Okay, the Jeep exploded and caught fire when it hit the rocks below. We found pieces of it scattered in the ocean in the bay we just passed. Some washed ashore. That’s also where Dylan’s body was found about two weeks after the wreck.”

  I find Beth’s hand and grasp it but refuse to look her way. I can hear her crying softly, and I want to stay strong. I let myself go to that place, that awful, ugly place where I imagine James’s final moments. The shock, then fear, and then searing pain. And the realization he was going to die. What did he think of in his last moments? Me? Dylan? And if he knew about the pregnancy, was he thinking about their unborn baby? I slide my wedding ring off my left finger and kiss it, then say a silent prayer that his death was quick and painless.

  And then, even though I really don’t want to, I say one for Dylan too before tossing my band into the ocean, watching intently until it disappears, imagining it cracking the surface of the water.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  DYLAN—BEFORE

  Dylan would never forget the moment she and James kissed for the first time. How, when it had finally happened, she realized she’d wanted it since the day they’d met. When James had waited for her after her shift, pressing a twenty-dollar bill and his business card into her petite hand. She could have thrown away that contact information and had no way to find him. But she hadn’t. Instead she’d stared at it all night, turning it over in her hand, tracing the edges, wondering what his backstory was. How he’d gotten into software sales. Finally she’d buried the card at the bottom of her underwear drawer, debating whether to reach out.

  Three days later, she was pulling out a pair of her favorite white lace panties when his card had dropped to the floor. She’d taken it as a sign that it was time to at least say thank you for his generous tip. And that would be the end of it. Because she had Nick. He was a good man. One she’d just gotten engaged to. And it was dangerous to toy with this idea that she hadn’t actually found her future in the man she’d promised it to just days before.

  James had responded within minutes. And Dylan had felt her heart flutter, her stomach tingle. They only dipped their big toes in at first, offering each other small scraps of their life through a daily email exchange. Maybe he’d send a funny meme of the latest political debate. Or she’d share a story from work, like when the executive chef got into a fistfight with the general manager over the very young and long-legged hostess they’d both been seeing.

  But Dylan quickly found she wanted more. More than the challenge to write a witty email. More than the giddy excitement she felt as she opened his. More than the surface flirtation they’d been dancing around. She’d been staring blankly at the latest episode of New Girl when she got the courage to ask him about the one thing they weren’t talking about: his marriage.

  Almost twenty-four hours went by before she heard back. So long that she’d convinced herself she had scared him away. But then she’d heard the ding of her incoming email and saw his name. He told her he’d been married for eight years. And her name was Jacqueline. That things used to be good. But she had changed, he said. And he traveled a lot, and both the physical and emotional distance between them had driven them further and further apart. They were broken. And James didn’t have any clue how to repair it.

  Dylan wanted to know more—but she didn’t ask. Because if she did, then he’d know she was interested. And she wasn’t sure what exactly it was he wanted from her, or she from him. All she knew for sure was that she’d begun to feel differently about Nick. Like when she’d looked over at him on the couch recently—he was laser focused on the Lakers game, his body jutting slightly right and left with the players. She used to think that was adorable. But since meeting James, she’d feel a small prick of irritation when he did certain things—his quirks had begun to lose some of their charm.

  Maybe it was the ring. The heavy oversize diamond that sat on her finger had begun to weigh down their relationship as well. Maybe it was because she knew now that all this was g
oing to be permanent. The way Nick crunched his tortilla chips. The divide between her and her parents since she’d announced the engagement. The way he subtly tried to change her from the person she was to the one he thought she should be. More orderly (she was a self-proclaimed slob), more driven (she still felt a little lost), just more everything. Nick was incredibly decisive—it was actually one of the things she used to find refreshing. All of the other men she’d dated seemed a bit aimless, not unlike Dylan. But Nick had known what he wanted from the beginning. He’d wanted Dylan. And Dylan used to think she wanted a man like Nick.

  Until she met James. He changed everything. She liked that he was older, more experienced, more worldly than Nick. And when they finally spoke on the phone, he made her laugh in a way that Nick never had—a laugh that would shake her whole body, a laugh that she would feel deep down in her gut. She quickly realized he could teach her things, show her things, challenge her.

  They’d quickly graduated from emailing to texting and soon were in constant communication. Dylan’s dull life suddenly sparkled when she shared with James the bits and pieces of it. She became addicted to their banter, which had become more and more flirtatious. So when he asked her to meet him for a drink, she knew exactly what she was doing. As she pulled on her favorite tank top and skinny jeans, she understood. Once she crossed this line, her life would never be the same.

  She couldn’t wait.

  They’d met at a bar in Costa Mesa. Dylan sipped tonics with lime and James drank draft beers. They’d thrown darts and competed on the classic pinball machine in back that had flashing lights and a little Ferris wheel that would scoop up the metal ball each time Dylan used the right flipper to send it flying. Dylan teased James that he was so old he’d probably played it as a kid. (He had.) She’d brushed up against him, timidly at first, but as the night wore on, she became bolder. She was rewarded with his hand circling her waist. Rubbing her back. And then finally he pulled her in close for that first kiss, and Dylan arched her toes and tilted her neck so her mouth could easily find his. Dylan would play that moment back in her mind so often that she worried she might be obsessed, like that stalker woman in the Lifetime movie she’d watched. It was hard to explain (and she had no one to explain it to anyway, since no one else knew), but she’d never experienced a kiss like that, both soft and hard at the same time. Both right and wrong. It made her both incredibly happy and horribly confused. The only thing she knew for sure was that she’d do anything to feel that way again.

  Dylan had made the short walk down to the pools after she parked the Jeep. She found James as he was coming out of the water, still smiling so wide the corners of his mouth practically touched his eyes.

  “You have no idea—the adrenaline rush from that jump was insane. And then I floated in the water for a while; the temperature is perfect.” She’d laid out a picnic on top of two towels she’d snagged from the hotel, and he sat down beside her and popped a piece of salami in his mouth. “I really wish you’d try it too.”

  Dylan glanced up at the bridge and held her breath as another person flew over the edge, this time a middle-aged bearded man, his belly jiggling as he jumped. “No, thanks,” she said, and smiled. “I’m good just watching. That makes me nervous enough.”

  “You worry too much,” James said.

  “Maybe,” Dylan agreed, thinking that James used to worry more too. But now he didn’t seem to care. She used to be proud that she brought out that side of him—she’d feel a slice of satisfaction that she’d prevailed where Jacqueline had failed. But apparently now she was the one holding him back. Maybe the baby would change things.

  “You ready to go?” James asked a short while later, after they’d finished the wine (Dylan had sipped lightly, wanting to please James). He’d fed her a piece of banana bread and then drew her to him, leaning her back and kissing her, causing the couple walking by to let out a low whistle. Maybe she’d imagined the shift in his demeanor. She’d pressed him several times to tell her what was on his mind, but he kept brushing her off, telling her it was nothing, seeming annoyed after the third request. That when he’d said that by talk he hadn’t meant about anything serious.

  But there was something in his eyes that made her question his words. Had he planned to tell her something important and changed his mind? Finally she gave up and accepted his answer as the truth—that there wasn’t anything to talk about. Even though there were so many things to talk about. But how could she press him to reveal his secrets when she was keeping her own?

  James stood up and held out his hand for Dylan to take. They packed up the remains of their picnic and walked to the Jeep.

  “Damn it,” James said. “The Jeep was broken into.”

  “Oh, shit. My purse was in here.” Dylan looked inside, hoping somehow it was still there. But it wasn’t.

  “Are you sure you didn’t take it with you when you set up the picnic? Or into the bathroom?”

  Dylan thought hard. She’d been pretty sure she’d left it in the backseat on the floor, underneath a shopping bag. She had thought locking the Jeep would be enough. “I’m almost positive. What about your wallet?”

  “I shoved it under my seat before I got out at the bridge,” James said, reaching with his hand and retrieving it. “It’s still here.”

  Dylan’s stomach began to hurt. How was she going to get home? She’d have to call her roommates and have one of them overnight her passport. But still, they were supposed to fly back tomorrow. Dylan would need to change her flight too. Would James stay with her? And then her mind flashed to the pregnancy test sitting at the bottom of the bag.

  “Come on,” James called out as he headed back toward the pools. “Let’s retrace our steps and ask if anyone saw anything. Then we can call the police.”

  Dylan’s head was throbbing an hour later. They’d finally given up and called the police, filing a report over the phone. The officer who answered told Dylan it was quite common for that to happen, making her feel even more stupid. The police said they’d call if it turned up but gave her no confidence that it would.

  James took her hand as they climbed into the car. “Don’t worry, belleza. It’s just stuff. It can be replaced.” He’d initially been irritated with her as they searched, but as she became upset when they couldn’t find any trace of her purse, he’d softened, using her special name. She loved when he called her that.

  Dylan was exhausted, and that feeling in her gut had not dissipated. She still felt like something wasn’t quite right. “Can we head back to the hotel now?”

  “Can we keep going? Finish the drive? We’re so close to the best part of the trip. Just lie back and close your eyes. Stop being so afraid. Let the curves soothe you.” James leaned in and kissed her lips gently. “For me? I really want to see what all the fuss is about with the back road.”

  Dylan pointed toward the lowering sun. “But isn’t it safer to drive during the day? It’s going to get dark soon.”

  James kissed her again, this time more forcefully. “Do you trust me?”

  Dylan met his gaze. For the past several months, they’d led a life that no one else knew about. They’d risked everything to be together. And now she was pregnant with his baby. Did she trust him? The truth was, she absolutely did. She just wasn’t sure that she should.

  “Yes,” Dylan said.

  “Remember on the way here—how we could smell the hibiscus and African tulips as we drove? How vibrant green the kukui trees were?”

  Dylan nodded, recalling how he’d carefully studied the flora guide inside the case for the Road to Hana CD they’d purchased, then pointed out the trees and flowers along the way.

  “Well, this . . . this is going to far surpass any of that.”

  Dylan bit her lip. She didn’t want to go. But she wanted James to be happy. She wanted to be his number one, because sometimes, just beyond those beautiful eyes, she could see him thinking about his other life. About his wife. So she was going to continue on this roa
d with him and help him forget. And she was also going to tell him about their baby.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  JACKS—AFTER

  When Officer Keoloha drops us off at the restaurant, our nerves as frayed as our hair from the strong wind, I’m not sure what we’ll find—will the Jeep be here? Did Nick drive back to the hotel? Or go back to California? I try to ignore the hammering in my chest. My earlier anger toward him has subsided; my well of emotions has run dry. Reliving James’s last moments was necessary, but excruciating and exhausting. Finally. All the questions that could have been answered were.

  The challenge is not letting the ones that couldn’t be haunt me.

  But Nick is here. Waiting at the bar where we left him. Nursing a beer, staring into his glass like if he looked inside of it long enough, he’d find what he’s looking for.

  My heart leaps a little. He didn’t leave. He didn’t leave me.

  “Hey,” he says, his lips forming a slow smile. He doesn’t ask us how it was. I don’t offer any details. He doesn’t need to. I don’t have to. Because when he stands up and I reach him, I sink into his arms. And I know he can feel that I am emotionally lighter. That I’ve left a part of me back there on that cliff. I dig my head into his shoulder and close my eyes, and we stay like that for what feels like an hour but I’m sure is only a few seconds. Listening to each other without saying a word. Forgiving each other for our weaknesses. I can’t make eye contact with Beth. I know what I’ll see if I do. That look.

  The ride back to the Westin is quiet, Beth finally giving in to her exhaustion once we reach Paia, snoring softly in the backseat.