Hidden in Lies (5 page)

The pause on the other line is so long, I’m starting to think she didn’t hear me. Finally she says, “Why?”

I can’t possibly answer that question. There’s an endless list of reasons why Cal makes me unhappy. Why I make myself unhappy. Searching my brain for an easy answer, uncomplicated answer, I come up empty. “I’m just not,” is the response I end up giving her.

“That’s not a very good reason, Elizabeth. You need to focus on your marriage and make it work. You can’t—” She stops as her voice cracks. After clearing her throat she continues, “You can’t just up and leave him without a good reason.” I’m sure she intends for her tone to be firm, but it’s laced with fear, and I know exactly why she’s afraid. There’s a lot on the line, and not just for me. And it all teeters on whether or not I stay married to Cal.

So I do the one thing I’ve become good at over the years. I fake it. I pull on my mask and play the perfect wife and daughter who doesn’t disappoint anyone. “You’re right, mother. I’m just having a bad day I suppose. Don’t listen to a thing I just said; it’s just the exhaustion talking.”

“Very good. Well, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get off of here,” she says, seeming lighter and happier than just a moment ago.

“Okay, I’ll call you next week.” I hang up the phone before she can say anything else. Leaning back against the sofa, I stare up at the ceiling. The pressure returns. I feel it creeping up my back and resting squarely on my shoulders. I don’t want to disappoint her, and I know she’s relying on me to keep this charade up. I’m sure she knows I’m really not happy. How could she not know? No, we’re not close now, but shouldn’t she have mother’s intuition or something? And that’s where my resentment comes in. How could she expect me to stay with someone when I’m not happy? Does she not care, or is it her own preservation that’s pushing her to convince me to stay?

A loud knock on the door startles me, causing me to jump out of my skin. Placing a hand over my heart in an attempt to slow it back to its normal rate, I walk over to the door. I’m not expecting anyone, and Cal would have just walked in, so I’m curious at who could be there.

I peek through the peephole in the door and don’t see anyone. Stepping away slightly, I cock my head a little in confusion. I know I’m not hearing things. Slowly, I open the door to see that my porch is empty. My right foot crosses the threshold as I peer out to see if anyone is there. When my foot lands on the porch, I hear a crinkling sound that catches my attention. Looking down, I see a piece of paper being held down at the corner by a small rock.
That’s weird.
I bend down to retrieve the note that was obviously left here on purpose.

Do you know where your husband is? Looks like he’s not only a liar, but a cheater too.

I walk off the porch and look in every direction trying to catch a glimpse of whoever put this at my doorstep. What does this even mean? Instantly, visions of Mona quickly appear in my head, and I feel slightly sick. Stumbling back through my house, I resume my position on the couch trying to decide what to do. I have a strong urge to call him and see what he’s doing, but I’m afraid I’ll seem transparent and he’ll know something is off.

Clutching the note in my hand, a myriad of questions passes my mind. Who could have sent this? How are they connected to Cal? What has Cal lied about? Is this person telling me my husband is cheating on me? And how do they know? I look down. My phone rests beside me from when I got off the phone with my mom. Picking it up, I call Cal’s office line.

“Good afternoon, Senator Fitzgerald’s office. This is Alice speaking, how can I help you today?” Alice is the over eager intern at his office.

“Hi Alice. This is Mrs. Fitzgerald, is Cal available?” It’s then that I wonder why I’d call his general office number, and not his direct line. Maybe my subconscious wants more information and thinks this is the way to get it.

“Um, I’m afraid not. He’s in a meeting right now,” she replies.

“Do you know with whom?” I cringe at my blatant attempt to snoop. I hope she doesn’t see straight through me and tell Cal about this.

“No, ma’am, but I could connect you through to his scheduler if you need to know.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I was just hoping to reach him. I’ll call his cell phone later. Thank you, Alice.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Fitzgerald. Is there anything else I can help you with? Pass him a message or anything?” She’s as perky as ever in her offer to give him a message.

“No, that is not necessary. Have a good day.”

“You too, ma’am.” I hang up and stare at my phone. There’s this prickling feeling in the back of my spine nagging me, telling me that I know exactly who he’s in a meeting with. I’ve been trying to push back my suspicions from that day at his office, but with this note burning a hole in my hand, it’s getting harder to ignore.

A FEW NIGHTS
ago I had expressed concerns to Cal that I felt like I was being watched. I just couldn’t shake this creepy feeling that there were eyes constantly on me. Cal paused when I was finished with my concerns as if mulling it over. Finally, he rolled his eyes and dismissed my worries saying that we were in a safe community with an alarm system. He insisted there was no need for me to worry. Looking around at the scene before me, we both know he was way off on his assessment.

Policemen and FBI agents have flooded my house. I suppose that’s to be expected when a senator’s house gets broken into. It’s been one week since I got the mysterious letter on the porch, and I never mentioned it to Cal. If the note had said anything other than insinuating my husband is being unfaithful, I probably would have told him. Given the subject matter, though, I decided to keep it to myself. Looking around at the mess in my living room, I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t. Maybe he would’ve taken me seriously then.

I had just gotten back from shopping with Catherine when I noticed the front door was open. Sharp tingles prickled my spine immediately feeling like something was wrong. I know for a fact I had set the alarm and closed and locked the door behind me. After the incident with the housekeeper, I’ve been especially vigilant in making sure this happens. I had pushed the door open, remaining on the porch in case I needed to make a hasty retreat. Listening past the noise of my heartbeat in my ears, I strained to hear if there was anyone in the house. When I was met with complete silence, I proceeded inside. The damage to my house shocked me, causing me to gasp and put my hand over my mouth. Everything was thrown about, broken, and in pieces. Between this and the note, fear immediately settled in and I called the police followed by Cal who was more than furious.

“If it’s alright with you, ma’am, we’d like to ask you a few questions. If you need a couple hours to gather yourself, then you can always meet us at the station.”

Shaking my head, I open my mouth to tell him I’ll answer his questions now, but Cal interjects. “No, she’ll answer your questions here. I won’t have my wife going to some filthy police station where you house a bunch of criminals.” The officer looks at me to confirm this request.

“It’s fine, officer. I wasn’t in the home at the time, so I’m really not shaken up by it. Just a little stunned.” My voice is smooth and even, proving that I’m not all that rattled by the break-in. Truth is, it does scare me and I am rattled a little that someone was in my home, but I don’t want to appear dramatic in front of Cal. He gestures for us to head toward the kitchen where the damage is minimal and we can take a seat. Cal places a firm hand against my back and leads me in. Once we’re all seated and situated, the questioning begins.

“Where were you prior to entering the home, Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

“I was out shopping and having some coffee with a friend,” I reply.

“Who was the friend you were with?” He doesn’t look up as he’s asking the questions, just keeps writing on his notepad. I’m curious to know what he’s jotting down so feverishly.

“Catherine Williams.”

“Do you know what time you left the house?”
Scribble, scribble, scribble.

I pause trying to remember exactly when I left the house. “Um, I’d say I left at about eleven fifteen.”

“And did you go directly to the mall?”

“You went to the mall?” Cal asks. I can tell he’s trying to hide his disgust at the thought of shopping somewhere so common in front of the officer. After all, he’s a potential voter, but I detect it nonetheless.

“No,” I say looking at Cal. Turning my attention back to the officer who is now looking at the two of us, I say, “I met Catherine at Saks 5
th
Avenue, and yes, I did go directly there.”

“And at what time did you come home?” He doesn’t seem fazed by Cal’s odd question, which is good I suppose. I just want to get this over with so they can locate who did this. I also want to get my house back in order.

“I pulled into the garage at about three twenty if I had to guess at a time. I’m not sure exactly, but I think it was somewhere between three and three thirty.” I remember looking at my watch at the coffee shop and it was two forty-five. I began plotting an excuse to ditch Catherine and go home. I hate shopping with her, but now I’m thankful I did. If I hadn’t, I could have been home when someone broke in and trashed our home.

“Hmmm.” Is all he says. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, trying to decipher what ‘hmmmm’ means. Cal must be on the same page, because he voices his concerns.

“What does ‘hmmm’ mean exactly, officer?” he asks directly, seeming a little annoyed.

“It’s just pretty brazen to break into a house in broad daylight. Especially a senator’s house where there’s sure to be an alarm. Are you certain that you set the alarm before leaving, because it never went off.” I was puzzled by this as well. After the adrenaline had subsided slightly once the police got here, I noticed it was too quiet. That’s when I picked up on the fact that the alarm never sounded. I spoke of this concern earlier.

I nod to emphasize my answer. “I’m positive. I do it every time I walk out of the door. It’s habit, really.”

“Okay, we’ll need to look at the system to see if anything was tampered with. We’re going to keep questioning your neighbors to see if they saw anything out of the ordinary today.” He moves to stand up but pauses. “Is there anyone out there that might have a grudge against you, Senator?”

Cal huffs out a little laugh. “I’m a senator; of course I have people that don’t like me. Have you seen the Congressional approval ratings?” He flashes the officer his signature smile. The one that tells people he’s trustworthy, humble, and relatable. At least that’s what the team of advisors told him during his senatorial campaign last election.

The officer laughs at his joke, but I get a sense that Cal is avoiding the question for a reason. “You might have a point there, sir.” Standing up all the way, he holds his hand out to Cal. “If I have any more questions or updates, I’ll be in touch.” They shake hands before I stand and do the same.

“Thank you, officer.” Cal replies.

He walks off, but my house is still in shambles and people are picking through every piece of debris littering the floor looking for clues as to who did this. It’s the violation of personal space that has me upset.

“Let’s get out of here while they clean the place up,” Cal says in my ear. I pull the corners of my mouth up slightly and nod.

We’ve been driving around aimlessly for thirty minutes now, neither of us really saying much. Both of us are locked in our own thoughts, probably running through the same questions. Who would have done this? Why? And where are they now? The car comes to a slow stop somewhere off the beaten path in a wooded area. It’s actually quite serene, and despite everything going on right now, I’m able to take it in and enjoy it. Being that it’s early fall, the trees are starting to change colors, displaying various shades of yellow and orange. In a few weeks, bright red will be in the mix, creating the perfect backdrop. I love this time of year. The air is crisp, the breeze is cool, and the days seem shorter.

“We’re going to hire security,” Cal says, pulling me from the beautiful scenery.

“Do you think it’s necessary? It could be a random thing. People’s homes get broken into every day.”