Shea locked Dru’s gaze, leaving her nowhere to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, that Joy believed AJ and Becca had been a couple again, that they had linked up behind Shea’s back.
“It isn’t true,” Shea said, but her faith was shaken. Dru could see the wall crumbling in her eyes, and it broke her heart.
“Dad said if AJ contacts me, I should get him to turn himself in. He said it may be hard right now for AJ to know the right thing to do. He said AJ’s mind is probably in a million pieces.”
“Well,” Dru said, “of all people, I think your dad would know.”
“Because he got diagnosed with PTSD, too.” Shea made it sound like a prison sentence.
“They do have that in common. It’s why I’ve been concerned. I don’t want you threatened the way I was—”
“AJ’s situation is nothing like Dad’s, Mom. Dad wasn’t a trained soldier. He never even owned a gun until after he was attacked.”
“So because AJ was trained in combat, because he handled weapons, he’s better equipped, mentally and emotionally, to cope with the violence he was subjected to? Is that what you’re saying?”
Shea doodled a line on the table with the tip of her finger. “I might as well tell you before Dad does.”
“Tell me what?”
“AJ was arrested before—for being an accessory to murder.”
“What? When?”
“It was before he joined the marines. He was at a party, and some guys got into a fight. One of them, someone AJ knew, who he thought was a friend, had a gun. A couple of people were shot.”
“By AJ?” Dru felt light-headed.
“No, by his friend. AJ tried to stop the guy, but he got arrested anyway, even though he didn’t know that the ‘friend’”—Shea tweaked air quotes—“had brought a gun to the party.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but it sounds to me as if AJ must have known.”
“Call the police, Mom. Ask them. The charges against AJ were dropped because there wasn’t any evidence against him.”
Dru pushed her plate away. She didn’t know what to say. AJ was dangerous, that was all. He’d been dangerous even before his military service. The violence he harbored wasn’t an aberration. It was part of his nature.
“I can’t believe the media raked up all that stuff. AJ is going to hate it, everyone knowing. People get the wrong idea.” Shea caught Dru’s gaze. “He’s not a criminal, Mom.”
Shea wanted Dru’s agreement, but Dru couldn’t offer her that.
“He is the last person—” Shea stopped to press a single knuckle to her mouth, taking a moment. “After everything he went through in the war,” she began again, “all the horror he saw over there, the things he had to do—for his country”—she set the phrase apart, and it was steeped in sarcasm—“he is the very last person who could do harm to another human being. Can’t you see that?”
Dru bent forward, touching Shea’s cheek, thumbing away her tears; she tucked strands of Shea’s hair behind her ear. “I want to believe in him, I do, but my major concern is for you, for your safety. Your dad was a wonderful and kind man, too, who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“God, Mom!” Shea jumped up. “What’s it going to take? AJ isn’t Dad! And, anyway, Dad got help. He was in therapy. For years! You know that. You know he’d never point a gun at anyone now. He doesn’t even own a gun anymore.” Her voice rose. “You—you own a gun, because you still think Dad’s a psycho, that he’s going to come after us. You still hold a grudge against him, and now you hold the same grudge against AJ. I’m sick of it, Mom. Sick. Of. It.” She stared down at Dru, trembling, chest heaving. Hurt laced the fury in her gaze. “You know what your problem is?” she asked before Dru could say anything. “You don’t trust—not me, not anyone.”
Dru stared at Shea, feeling she’d lost the power of speech. Even thought wasn’t possible in the moment, and she watched Shea push her chair under the table. She tracked Shea’s rapid retreat across the kitchen floor.
“You know we’re going to have to work on canceling the wedding.” Dru found her voice. “Today,” she added. “It can’t—”
“What am I going to say?” Shea whirled to face Dru. “‘Oh, I’m so sorry, the wedding’s off. One of my bridesmaids is dead, and my fiancé is on the run, because everyone, including my wonderful, open-minded parents, thinks he murdered her’?”
“You won’t need to talk to anyone, honey.”
“No, of course not. What am I thinking? It’s all over the news.”
“We still need to write notes to the guests, saying that we’re canceling due to unforeseen circumstances, or something to that effect. We’ll get the word out as quickly as we can via e-mail, if we have an address. Otherwise we’ll have to go the snail-mail route.”
“What about Uncle Kevin and Aunt Mary? Aren’t they on the road?”
“Maybe they haven’t left yet. I’ll call them.”
Shea pressed her fingertips to her temples, letting out a soft moan. “This is so horrible, like a nightmare. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up.”
“We’ll get through it,” Dru said, having no clue how. “Kate, Vanessa, and Leigh are coming by later to help with the notes, and Lily will take care of her guest list and everything related to the rehearsal dinner.”
“She thinks we should cancel, too?”
Shea seemed suddenly so small and bewildered. How had it come to this, all her beautiful wedding plans? The question was written into the furrow of her brow, the tight purse of her mouth, her wobbling chin. Dru got up, throat pinched with the effort not to cry, and went to her daughter, wrapping her in an embrace. It was all she had, all she knew to do.
“I love him so much, Mama,” Shea said, broken-voiced. “I don’t care about the wedding. I just want him to be safe. I want him to come home.”
Dru felt Shea’s tears bleed through her cotton shirt. “I know, honey,” she murmured. “I know you do.”
“I don’t know what to hope for,” Dru told Rob later. She’d come outside to the deck to call him, not wanting to risk Shea overhearing them, even though she was in her bedroom, having agreed to at least try to nap until Kate, Leigh, and Vanessa arrived. Dru perched on the end of a chaise longue. “I don’t know whether it’s best if AJ’s guilty or innocent, or if he comes back or gets arrested.”
“As terrible as it is, she’s going to have to face—we’re all going to have to look at the fact that he might be dead, either by his own hand or someone else’s.”
“You didn’t say that to her?”
“Of course not. Shea’s not even close to being ready to hear it.”
“What worries me is how little she’s willing to consider AJ’s role in this—if he fathered Becca’s baby and if, because of that, he killed her. It’ll do more than just break Shea’s heart, Rob.”