Rachel's Folly (13 page)

“We filed a report. They had Rachel’s body exhumed and reexamined.” Ben shook his head. “They didn’t find any foul play, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Does he have an alibi?”

“Apparently, he was with Elena.” Ben took one of the napkins from Paul and used it to clean his glasses.

“Wow, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it.”

Ben stared at his glasses. “I know he’s responsible for her death. I just know it, but I can’t prove it.” He stopped and looked at Paul intently. “That night we went over there to confront him, for just an instant, I saw a crazed look in his eyes. He looked downright evil. He’s behind this somehow.”

“What about Rachel’s husband?”

“He thinks I’m nuts.” He paused to take a sip of wine and then continued. “My brother-in-law is still in a state of shock. I think he’s expecting Rachel to walk in the front door at any moment. The only thing that shook him out of his fog was when I told him about her having sex with Jack. He became enraged and went straight over to tackle him.”

“Well, you can hardly blame him for that,” Paul said. “What about your mother?”

Ben scoffed, not wanting to go into what he had recently learned about her. “She’s as demented as ever,” he said. “It’s sad, really.”

He watched Paul get up and walk over to the oven. He was still in great shape. It always amazed Ben how Paul could eat whatever he wanted and not gain an ounce. He came back to the table with the food and proceeded to serve Ben and then himself. He threw the dishrag he was using as a potholder over his shoulder, brought over the bottle of wine from the counter and refilled their glasses. He looked around, and when he was satisfied, sat down with Ben to eat.

Still a bit taken aback by Paul’s presence, Ben asked, “What exactly are you doing here?”

“I made you dinner.” He casually placed his hand on Ben’s upper arm. “I’m here to help a friend, that’s all.”

Ben closed his eyes when Paul touched him. It stirred him inside. Then he opened his eyes and looked directly at him. “So, it’s just that easy for you? To walk back in here, like nothing happened?”

“Don’t over think it,” Paul interrupted, slowly removing his hand from Ben’s arm. “I’m simply here because you need somebody right now.”

Ben nodded as he took in his answer. The pain was still raw. He never thought he’d be able to forgive Paul for cheating on him, but Rachel’s infidelity had caused Ben to question his principles. If he could forgive his sister, shouldn’t he also be able to forgive the only man he’d ever truly loved? He still wasn’t sure if he could actually move past it, but one thing he did know was that he didn’t want to be alone. Now that Rachel was gone, alone was all he felt.

He found himself holding his breath every time the phone rang, hoping the person on the other line would be her, as insane as that was. And he just couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in Elena’s room when Rachel confessed her secret. He wondered if he had been so harsh with her because he was still mad at Paul for cheating on him. What if he had reacted differently? What if he had told her to talk to Edward instead? What if he had told her to tell Elena? So what if things had gotten messy? At least Rachel would still be alive. Why did he have to be so hard on her?

Ben tried to quiet his mind by admiring the spread laid out in front of him. Then Paul smiled gently and raised his glass. “Bon appétit,” he said with a warm smile.

They didn’t say much during dinner. When they finished, Paul poured Ben more wine, got up to do the dishes and ordered Ben to go and try to write for a while.

“You don’t need to wash the dishes,” Ben said.

“I know. I want to.”

Ben shook his head. “Look, if we’re going to do this, I mean if we’re going to be friends again, let’s take it slow. I don’t know. I want it to be … it should be a reciprocal relationship. I know I took you for granted; I don’t want to make that mistake again. Don’t let me take advantage of your kindness,” Ben said, seriously.

Paul grinned and began to take the dirty dishes to the sink. Ben joined him and they stood there silently as Paul washed and Ben rinsed and put the dishes away.

* * *

Paul made dinner for Ben the next three evenings. They didn’t talk about the past. Paul never told Ben if he regretted his affair. Ben never mentioned how devastated he was after they broke up. They did talk about Ben’s work; his ideas for his current novel; Paul’s younger brother who enrolled in the military and was now stationed in Germany; and Paul’s work as a high school music teacher. But at the end of the night, no matter how their conversation had started, the topic would inevitably come back to the circumstances surrounding Rachel’s death.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy thinking about this,” Paul said, sitting at the worn, upright piano in the living room. His long fingers gently toyed with the keys while Homer rested by his feet.

Ben sat on the sofa, staring out the window. It was dusk and his eyes were fixed on the tall pine tree in the neighbor’s front yard. White, blinking Christmas lights hung haphazardly from the branches. There were patches of snow on the ground. He could feel the cold on the side of his cheek seeping in through the glass pane. As unexpected and gratifying as it was to have Paul back in his life, he still felt weighed down by Rachel’s death. He still wasn’t sleeping well. Most of his days were just routine, feeling bankrupt inside.

“I can’t help but feel responsible,” he said softly.

Paul frowned and looked over at him. “How’s that?”

“I was the one who made her keep quiet. She was so desperate to tell Elena and I convinced her not to say anything. I actually told her it was her cross to bear.” Ben ran his hand through his hair. “I just didn’t realize how much she was suffering.”

“That’s not fair. You were only trying to protect her from losing her family and her friend. And if you’re right about Jack, he had more to do with Rachel’s depression than the secret did,” Paul said reassuringly.

“It just doesn’t make sense. I mean, if she had really been that depressed, she would have called me long before that day.” Ben sighed deeply. “I feel like I’m missing something, like there’s a piece of the puzzle that should be so obvious, but it keeps evading me. I keep listening to her voicemail over and over again, hoping I can make more sense of the fragmented words, but there’s nothing there.”

Paul stopped playing the piano and looked pensive. “I have a friend who works at the New England School of Communications in Bangor,” he said. “I wonder if he can take her voice message to the audio engineering department and see if they can slow it down and analyze it. Maybe they can pick up something that the human ear can’t?”

Ben quickly turned to face him. “Really, you think so?”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m sure the police already analyzed it, but at least you can get some peace of mind knowing you got all you can from it. We definitely can’t lose anything.”

“Yes. Please. Can you find out?” Ben asked eagerly.

“Let me see if I can reach him.” Paul went to retrieve his phone from the kitchen. Ben heard him talking and held his breath until he heard Paul say, “That’s great, I’ll take the phone over tomorrow. Oh? Alright. Thanks so much.”

Ben entered the kitchen just as Paul disconnected the call. He looked at Paul anxiously.

“The good news is he thinks he can do it. The bad news is he’s swamped until after the Christmas break, so it may be a few weeks before we get any information.”

Disappointed, Ben said, “Well, I’ll just have to wait, then.”

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Ben tried to keep occupied with his work and his writing. He called Edward from time to time to check on him and Jacob. Ben’s heart ached whenever he spoke with Jacob. He could tell that he was trying to be strong and Ben marveled at how resilient he was, being so young. He wished the same was true for Edward, but he often sounded angry or depressed and kept their exchanges as short as possible. Ben had thought about telling Edward he was having Rachel’s voicemail analyzed, but he feared that Edward would just belittle his efforts.

Paul was now spending most of his nights at Ben’s home, and Ben could tell he was trying hard to keep his spirits up. Paul had managed to make Christmas more bearable by preparing a homemade dinner and inviting a couple of mutual friends over to celebrate the holiday. Even Janelle had stopped by and stayed for a while.

Ben was in his office reviewing a student’s graduate application when the phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. It was Paul. He answered immediately.

“Hey, I just got off the phone with my friend in Bangor,” he said without waiting for a greeting.

“And?” Ben stopped breathing.

“Well, unfortunately, he wasn’t able to make much more sense of the recording than you already had.”

Ben’s heart sank.

“He said the static was just too thick—but he did find out one thing.”

“Yes?” Ben raised his eyebrow in anticipation.

“Well, I know it sounds weird, but he swears Rachel didn’t say ‘the bastard was selfish.’ He says she said ‘the bastard was with dish.’”

Ben wrinkled his brow. “Excuse me? Did you say dish; D as in dog?”

“That’s what he said.”

“The bastard was with dish,” Ben repeated. Dismayed, he wrote it down on a piece of scrap paper lying on his desk. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know, but he’s absolutely convinced that’s what she said.”

Ben sighed and sat back in his chair, pondering the new information. “Okay, okay. Let me think about this. I’m going to have to call Edward.”

“Good luck with that,” Paul said sarcastically.

“Yes, I’m sure he’s going to be thrilled,” Ben replied. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be there before seven.”

Ben hung up and rubbed his eyes. He dreaded the call he was about to make. He knew Edward was going to be upset that he was still digging around, “chasing theories” as he had called it. Ben also knew that “the bastard was with dish
”
sounded ridiculous and probably meant nothing. But he had to ask. It was all he had.

The phone rang four times before Edward picked up.

“Hey Ben, what’s up?” He sounded tired.

“Uh, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I was just about to pick up Jacob. What’s going on?”

“Well, I know you’re probably going to get upset, but just hear me out, alright?”

“Alright,” Edward replied calmly.

“So, I had the voice message Rachel left me analyzed by a sound engineer over here and he thinks Rachel didn’t say ‘the bastard was selfish.’” Ben hesitated a moment. “He thinks she said ‘the bastard was with dish’; dish with a D
.
Does that make any sense to you?” There was a long pause on the line. Ben winced, fearing a negative reaction. “Does ‘dish’ mean anything to you? Edward, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, just a minute,” he said evenly.

“Do you know what that could mean?”

There was another long pause before Edward said, “Maybe.”

Ben sat up in his chair.

“Dish was the name of one of Rachel’s clients. Rach was really wrapped up in her. She’s a troubled kid, mixed up in drugs and has a lot of problems at home.”

“Do you think Jack could have been involved with her in some way?”

“I seriously doubt it, and even if he knew her, why would Rachel be upset about that? I don’t know, Ben. That sounds a little farfetched to me. ‘The bastard was selfish’ makes much more sense; plus, don’t you think the police would have picked up on that?”

“I guess. I don’t know.” Ben felt a little embarrassed. “Well, maybe I could just ask her if she knows anything. It can’t hurt. You wouldn’t happen to know how I can get a hold of her, would you?”

“That’s not even her real name. Rachel never told me her clients’ actual names. But your mother stopped by here a few days after the funeral with some religious books for Jacob and a teddy bear. She said the bear was left at the funeral home. There was a personal note attached. I didn’t recognize the name when I first read it, but I remember thinking later it could have been Dish. I’m looking for the card right now.” Ben heard him shifting things around. “Here it is.” Edward read the card out loud. “You don’t know me, but your mommy was a good friend to me. She was a good person. The card is signed Sara Dishner.”

* * *

There was a snow storm expected overnight and the accumulation was already more than two inches. From the window in his home office, Ben watched the snowflakes falling rapidly.

When Ben told Paul that he thought he knew who Dish was, Paul suggested searching for her on Facebook. Since Ben had never been into social media and didn’t have an account, Paul sent a personal message from his own account to the three Sara Dishners who lived in Austin. Four days had passed and Ben still hadn’t received the message he was hoping for. He had gotten a message from one of the women on the same night the request went out, but it was just a quick reply to say that she wasn’t the person he was looking for.

Ben turned his gaze away from the window and back to the computer screen. He had been spending most of his free time in front of the computer, hoping he would get a message from the Sara he was looking for. Each day that passed, he became more discouraged.

He sighed deeply and stared at a picture of Paul, Rachel and himself on Paul’s Facebook page. Ben remembered when it was taken, on top of Mount Bonnell, years before on one of their trips to Austin. It was a good day, but it felt like an eternity ago, back when his life made sense.

When Paul had opened his Facebook account to Ben, he had made it a point not to go through Paul’s postings and messages. He made sure to keep the screen on the picture and messages that were right in front of him. He did this partly because he wanted to respect Paul’s privacy, but also because he was afraid of what he might find. He still held resentment towards the man Paul had cheated on him with and Ben knew he would be upset if he found any indication that they were still in contact. Even so, as he sat there, with his chin resting in his hand, Ben toyed with the idea of taking a deeper look at Paul’s page. Ben had never opened a Facebook account himself because he liked to keep his private life private. He was grateful that Facebook hadn’t been around when he was younger and foolish, finding comfort in the fact that his irresponsible indiscretions were locked away in his memory and not carelessly exploited, like on the cover of a tabloid. At least he hoped that was the case. Paul had gone upstairs to bed, but Ben looked over his shoulder anyway, just to make sure he wasn’t around. He turned back to the computer and clicked the mouse on Paul’s page.