The Candidate's Affair (16 page)

“Do you want to know? Maybe it’s better if you’re in the dark about it.”

I leaned forward. “I can handle it. Tell me.”

“I had to think through what we could put on it. It has to look real. It has to be something Spencer would have saved. Something that he would have intentionally placed on the drive. That’s why I haven’t had anything for a couple of weeks.”

“But did you find something real? Is there real evidence on it?”

“Yes. But I think it’s best if, for your sake, I tell you everything is real.”

“All right. I accept that. It’s all real. Just tell me, Pax.”

His eyes softened with recognition. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“It’s just a habit. Don’t read into it.”

“Right.” He flicked the flash drive. “Anyway. This is loaded with some of Spencer’s personal files from his desktop. It also has tax documents. Copies of your Christmas letter. Pictures from a vacation.”

“How did you get those?” I questioned.

“Hackers remember? But no one should wonder why they’re there. Authentic personal files mixed in with the others make the flash drive look legitimate. They are copies of things from his desktop.”

“Ok, what else?”

“There’s a folder labeled
Anderson & Lee
. That’s where the docs are that we need the police to see. An email draft Spencer saved there describes what he uncovered. It spells everything out. He mentions the affair. The development deal. The financial connections between Hughes and Lewis Anderson. All of it.”

“And you’re certain this is enough for an arrest?”

“I know the law. I might not practice as an attorney anymore, but I know exactly what the police need. It’s there. I promise. This proves everything.”

I felt relief. My shoulders finally relaxed. “You did it? You actually found a way to end this nightmare.” I sat back on the couch. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. I needed to do this for you.” His eyes softened. “I wish I could do more.”

“This is enough. It’s what I needed.”

He emptied his glass. I followed his throat as he swallowed.

“It wasn’t you.” I shook my head.

“No. It wasn’t me. I was here with you that night.”

“When I woke up, you were gone.” It was less than a month since Spence’s death, but sometimes it felt like years had passed. “And when I heard Spence was killed, I went back to that moment—waking up alone in the guestroom. I couldn’t get past it. God, I’m sorry, Pax.”

“No. No, don’t say anything. You were in shock. You were looking for answers. The police carting me off in cuffs didn’t help either.”

“But what I did was unforgiveable. They released you in an hour’s time. Even they knew you weren’t guilty. You have been here helping me the whole time, haven’t you?”

He nodded. “I don’t think about it, Audrey. It wasn’t you. If you only knew how I reacted when Sarah died. It was—” He paused and I didn’t think he would continue. “To be honest, I thought about giving up.”

“Giving up?” I stared in disbelief at the strong man sitting in front of me.

“Yes. I stopped eating. I basically survived on bourbon. I drank until I passed out, but then all I found were nightmares.” He was speaking my language. “I didn’t know why I was left here to breathe and she was gone. I gave up. I blamed the mechanic who had changed the oil in her car—actually attacked the guy at work. Punched him until he was balled on the floor at my feet.”

“Oh my God, Pax.”

“I’m ashamed of who I was during that time. The poor guy had nothing to do with the accident. She fell asleep at the wheel, but I didn’t want to accept that. I wanted someone to be responsible. Someone should pay.

So, if for a minute, I gave you somewhere to target your anger, I’m glad. Anger is something you can hold on to for a little while. But not forever, Audrey.” He lowered his voice. “I know it wasn’t you who blamed me.”

He sounded sure, but I didn’t know who I was anymore.

He stood from the couch. “We need refills.”

I watched him through the doorway. He grabbed the bottle of red.

“Here you go.” He filled my glass to the top.

“Thanks.”

He sat closer to me on the couch this time.

“Now, tell me how you’re really feeling.” His smile was tender, his gaze determined.

“Empty.” My eyes drifted across his lips. It was as honest as I had been since Spence’s death.

“It’s my fault you feel this way. My candidacy did this to you. Please tell me what I can do. I want to do more.” There was anguish in his voice.

I reached to touch his jaw. Stubble covered it in even shadows. He closed his eyes. “God, Audrey, I never thought you’d touch me again.”

I placed my glass on the table. I took his and set it next to mine. “What can you do to make me feel?” I asked plainly.

“Really?” He searched my eyes.

“I feel nothing but numbness. I can’t laugh. I stopped crying. Can you make me feel again?”

He took my hands in his lap. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

“You know exactly what I’m saying.” I yanked my hands from his grip and attacked his top button.

“Audrey, I don’t want to take advantage of this situation. You’re grieving. You’re still trying to find your place.” His eyes closed when I sat back.

“Isn’t this one of the stages of grief?” I asked flatly.

“God, I don’t know.” He leaned closer to me, his breath heating the side of my cheek. “I can’t think straight when you look at me like that.”

“I’m tired of being empty. Can you make that stop?”

There weren’t thoughts or plans. Only desperate need to feel human again. To be with the one person who didn’t pity me or despise me. The only one who didn’t see me as a cheating whore.

“Audrey?” he breathed against my neck, and I knew he was trying to restrain himself, trying to be cautious with me.

I pushed back from him and rose. I walked into his room, tipping Sarah’s picture over as I passed it. Slowly, I pulled the shirt over my head, and stepped out of my jeans. I climbed into bed and waited for Paxton.

It may have been five minutes before he walked into the room; I don’t know how long I waited.

He stood in the doorway. It was dark, just like the last night we were together. I couldn’t see his face. I didn’t need to.

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked.

“No.” He crossed the room. His shirt dropped to the floor. I heard the buckle from his belt hit the hardwood. “I wanted to give you time to think in case you wanted to change your mind.”

He pulled the covers back, and I gasped when he rolled me on my back. The sheets were cool against my skin.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispered against my throat. Paxton kissed my neck and behind my ear, his hands coiling long strands of my hair between his fingers.

I needed heat. I needed him to banish the coldness of guilt and sadness in me. I needed him to take the emptiness away.

“Make me forget,” I begged him. All the while knowing that I couldn’t think about anything else. I was broken, fractured into pieces so tiny they could never be reassembled.

I closed my eyes as he moved in and out of me, taking his time. Whispering how much he loved me. Pushing deep into me, declaring I was beautiful and sexy. And when our bodies quivered and spiraled with vibrations that drummed in my head, I screamed. I clawed and screamed, pulling his hair, biting his skin. I fought the warmth and the comfort surging through me. I was wrong. It was better not to feel.

“Shh…” Paxton nestled behind me. His arm locked against my chest. “Shh…it’s ok. You’re ok.”

My skin started to cool. The sheets were damp with sweat. I stared at the dark wall.

“I love you.” He kissed my shoulder. “I missed this. I’ve wanted you to come back. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

I nodded. I couldn’t think about love. When I heard his breath turn to rhythmic snores, I slid out from under his arm. I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

I didn’t know what I felt. However, for a moment, I forgot. There was a moment when I wasn’t a widow and my husband wasn’t murdered. I wasn’t unemployed. I wasn’t pitied. I wasn’t shamed. I wasn’t an adulterer. There was a moment all of it fell away.

I walked back to the bedroom and climbed into the bed, rolling Paxton on his back. I straddled him and kissed his chest.

“Hey,” he mumbled sleepily.

I rocked forward again until he responded underneath me. His hands landed on my hips, and I lowered myself onto him, gasping at the feeling.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Just fuck me,” I whispered. I closed my eyes.

I needed another moment.

T
he next morning, I took the flash drive home and dropped it in Spencer’s top dresser drawer. I called Detective Pendleton and told him I thought he should come over. I may have found something while I was boxing up Spencer’s things, but I didn’t want to touch it if it was important to the case.

The detective was at the house within the hour. I let him in.

“Hi. Thanks for coming over so quickly. I don’t know if it’s important, but what if it is?” I had rehearsed my innocent lines with Paxton over breakfast.

“I’m glad you called. With an open investigation, it’s critical to examine possible evidence. You never know what might turn up. Where is it?”

“In here.” I led him to our bedroom. I had staged boxes around the room. I pulled open the drawer. I pointed at the socks. “It’s in the back. I called you as soon as I saw it.”

Pendleton moved Spence’s socks to the side, revealing the thumb drive. “Huh.” He held it up.

“Spence kept everything from work in the office. Everything. I don’t know why this would be in the back of his drawer. I haven’t looked at it yet.”

The officer put it in a small plastic bag and sealed it across the top. “Might be worth seeing what’s on it.” He tucked the evidence in his inside breast pocket.

“Thank you. I hope there’s something on there.”

We walked back to the front door. “I’ll keep you posted.” He turned. “If you see anything else like this, let us know.”

I nodded vigorously. “I will. And you’ll tell me what you find?”