Charlie stood in front of the giant set. She studied the paused footage. She could see that the camera was angled down, only capturing half of the hallway. The famous blind spot that Mason had told her about. The overhead lights were on, but a weird shadow came from the right-hand side of the hallway. Narrow, long, almost like a spider’s leg.
“Wait,” Charlie said, but not because of the video. “How did he know where the bathroom is?”
“What?”
“He just walked right to it and opened the door.” Charlie felt a prickling sensation in her spine. “No one guesses the right door, Sam. There are five of them, and none of them make any sense. You know that. It’s pretty much a joke that no one can figure them out.” Charlie’s heart started throbbing at the base of her throat. “Do you think Mason knew Dad? That he’s been here before? Like a lot of times before, so he knows where the bathroom is without being told?”
Sam opened her mouth. She closed it.
“You know something,” Charlie guessed. “Did Dad tell you—”
“Charlie, sit down. I don’t know anything for certain at the moment, but I’m trying to work it out.”
Sam’s calmness made her anxious. “Why do you want me to sit down?”
“Because you’re hovering over me like a military drone.”
“You couldn’t say something delicate, like a hummingbird?”
“Hummingbirds are quite vicious, actually.”
“Chuck!” Ben yelled.
Charlie felt her heart lurch. She had never heard him scream so loudly before.
“Chuck!” Ben yelled again.
His footsteps pounded up the hall. He overshot the living room. He doubled back, frantic.
“Are you okay?” Ben looked over his shoulder, up and down the hall. “Where is he?”
Charlie said, “Ben, what—”
“Where the fuck is he!” Ben screamed so loudly that she put her hands to her ears. “Mason!” He slammed his fist into the wall. “Mason Huckabee!”
The bathroom door creaked open.
“You fucker!” Ben screamed, storming back down the hall.
Charlie ran after him. She skidded to a stop as Ben tackled Mason to the floor.
Ben’s fists started to swing. Mason held up his arms, covering his face. Charlie was filled with horror as she watched her husband beat another man.
“Ben!” She had to do something. “Ben—stop!”
Sam grabbed Charlie by the waist, holding her back.
“I have to—” Charlie stopped. She didn’t know what to do. Mason would kill Ben. He was a trained soldier. “Sam, we have to—”
“He’s not fighting back,” Sam said, almost as if she was narrating a documentary. “Look, Charlie. He’s not fighting back.”
She was right. Mason lay on the floor, his hands covering his face, as he absorbed every blow to his head, his neck, his chest.
“You coward!” Ben screamed. “Show me your fucking face!”
Mason took away his hands.
Ben landed a solid blow across Mason’s jaw. Charlie heard teeth crack. Blood spewed from Mason’s mouth. He lay there, hands out to the side, and took the beating.
Ben did not let up. He punched him again, then again, then again.
“No,” Charlie whispered.
Blood spattered the wall.
Mason’s eyebrow opened against the edge of Ben’s wedding band.
His lip was split.
The skin of his cheek was rent.
Mason still just lay there, taking it.
Ben hit him again.
Again.
“I’m sorry,” Mason said, slurring the word. “I’m sorry.”
“You fucking—” Ben reared back his elbow, his whole body twisting, then slammed his fist into Mason’s jaw.
Charlie watched the skin on Mason’s cheek ripple like the wake behind a boat. She heard a sharp crack, a bat hitting a ball. Mason’s head whipped to the side.
His eyelids fluttered.
Blood dribbled from his mouth, his nose.
He blinked again, but he did not move. His gaze stayed on the wall. Blood dripped down the dusty baseboard and pooled onto the hardwood floor.
Ben sat back on his heels. He was panting from exertion.
“I’m sorry,” Mason said. “I’m sorry.”
“Fuck your sorry.” Ben spat in his face. He fell to the side, his shoulder hitting the wall. His hands dropped to his sides. Blood dripped from his knuckles. He wasn’t screaming anymore. He was crying. “You—” he tried again, his voice breaking. “You let him rape my wife.”
18
Charlie felt her vision blur. Panic gripped her throat. She could only hear the screaming inside her head.
Ben knew.
She asked Sam, “Did you tell him?”
“No,” Sam said.
“Don’t lie to me, Samantha. Just tell me.”
“Charlie,” Sam said. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing.”
There was only one wrong thing. Her husband knew what had happened to her. He had beat a man nearly senseless because of it. He had spat on him, he had told him—
You let him rape my wife.
Let him.
Charlie felt a rush of air leaving her lungs. Her hand slapped to her mouth as bile swirled up her throat.
“It was him,” Ben said. “Not Daniel.”
“In the woods?” Charlie asked, her vocal cords straining around the question. She saw Zachariah Culpepper’s hideous face. She had punched him so hard that his head had whipped around. Blood had come out of his mouth. And then Daniel Culpepper had tackled him to the ground and started beating him the way that Ben had just beaten Mason Huckabee.
Except it had not been Daniel Culpepper in the woods.
Charlie said, “You tackled Zachariah.” She had to swallow before she could add, “You were too late.”
“I know.” Mason rolled over onto his back. He covered his eyes with his hand. “In the house. In the woods. I was always too late.”
Charlie felt her knees turn rubbery. She leaned her shoulder into the wall. “Why?”
Mason moved his head side to side. He was breathing hard. Blood bubbled out of his nose.
“Tell them,” Ben said, fists clenched.
Mason wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He looked at Ben, then Sam, then Charlie. Finally, he answered, “I hired Zach to help me take care of Rusty. I gave him everything I’d saved up for college. I knew that he owed Rusty money, but—” He stopped, his voice cracking. “You guys were supposed to be at track practice. We were gonna take Rusty, drive him down the access road, and get rid of him. Zach would get three grand on top of wiping away his legal bills. I would get my revenge …” He looked at Sam again, then Charlie. “I tried to stop Zach when your dad wasn’t here, but he—”
“You don’t have to tell us what he did.” Sam’s words were so strained that they were almost inaudible in the open space.
Mason covered his face again. He started to cry.
Charlie listened to his dry sobs and wanted to punch him in the throat.