“I’ve got a call in to a couple of criminal attorneys in Dallas.”
“AJ’s not going to need legal representation, Paul.”
“Maybe you should be the one talking to Mackie and Bushnell.”
“What does that mean?”
Paul held her gaze.
“They still suspect AJ, is that it? And you agree with them. God, you’re incredible.” Lily turned away, turned back. “Didn’t I hear you warn Clint earlier that if anything happened to AJ he’d better fear for his job?”
“You did, and I meant it. What’s your point?”
“You truly think AJ killed those girls, don’t you?” The knot of Lily’s fury pulsed in her throat, beat a tattoo at her temples.
“I don’t see the harm in covering all the bases. He needs a lawyer; I’ll get him one. And it won’t be Edward Dana,” Paul added.
“He needs his father and his father’s faith.”
“But I don’t care if he’s guilty. He’s my son, and it’s my job to protect him either way.”
“So you’d cover for him if you knew he’d committed murder?”
“I’m not covering for him. I’m hiring legal counsel. Like I said before, I’ll do whatever I have to, to keep him out of prison, keep his name, his reputation, and his record clean the way I did last time, the way I did years ago for you.”
“But it isn’t his name and reputation, or mine, that really matters to you, is it? It’s your own. It’s the Isley name.”
“What do you suppose our lives would have been like if I’d let you or AJ drag our name into the dirt?”
“Your name.”
“Fine. Let’s play it that way. What kind of lifestyle do you think you would have had all these years if it had become public knowledge that you were an accessory to murder? If it were known that you were some thug’s girlfriend, that he robbed a store and murdered a clerk, a seventeen-year-old kid, to get money for a pair of western boots you wanted?”
“What are you talking about?” Lily asked. “I had no idea what Jesse was going to do, and you know it.”
“Ah, but I don’t, you see. According to Jesse, it was your idea. You wanted those boots. They were handmade of crocodile skin. You remember, don’t you? A vendor on the side of the highway had them for sale. Six hundred for the pair. Jesse didn’t have that kind of cash, but when he pulled off the highway at the convenience store, you said all he had to do was ask the clerk for it, and he’d hand it over. Jesse told me you laughed when you explained it.”
“Because I was joking.” Lily’s heart was beating so erratically it was difficult to breathe. “How do you know this?”
“I paid Jesse a visit before he was sent to prison. I wanted to know the real truth of what went down that day, not the legal truth. He was happy to tell me in exchange for—I don’t remember—like a couple hundred in cash? Cigarette money, he called it.”
“You believed him when he said I encouraged him.” Lily wasn’t asking. “You really think I’m capable of that.”
“You do like to dress well.”
Lily dropped her gaze, unable to look at Paul or speak for the shame that was thick in her throat, bitter on her tongue. She had admired the boots. She had teased Jesse about asking the store clerk for the cash. She’d said once they had it, they could ride back up the highway and buy the boots. She’d been a foolish, thoughtless, irresponsible eighteen-year-old girl, a feckless runaway who thought she knew everything. And a boy was dead because of her. But she’d truly never imagined Jesse would take her joke literally. She hadn’t known when he went into the store that he was armed and intent on robbing the place. She’d believed the gun was in the saddlebag, where he kept it.
“You were hell-bent on destroying yourself, Lily. If it hadn’t been Jesse, you would have chosen some other loser. AJ’s like you in that respect. He’s got no sense when it comes to the company he keeps.”
“You’re our savior, then, is that it?” Lily raked her hair behind her ears.
“You were going nowhere except prison. It was the same with AJ. At least you can pack a boy off to the military. I guess your dad could have done the same for you—”
“Or he could give me away in marriage. The military, even prison, would have been easier. At least it would be over by now.”
Paul laughed, a short, bitter sound.
“Did you ever love me?” Lily flattened her palm to her chest. “Not your idea of me. Not the woman you have tried for years to mold me into—”
“You were beautiful, Lily, and for all your wildness, you were so innocent. Fragile and vulnerable.”
“It’s always been about control with you, hasn’t it?” she said after a moment. “I didn’t want to see it, but I played into it; I went along. It’s what I always do.” She was talking more to herself than to Paul. Turning from him, she went to lean stiff-armed against the counter. It was full dark now, and the kitchen window over the sink was black. There was nothing to see but her own ghostly reflection. “I’ve been so blind, following you, even Dad—I don’t know myself who I am.”
“Well, I think that might be a bit of an overstatement,” Paul said, and she hated it, the condescending note in his voice, the way he patronized her.
“I think you need to go,” she said, turning to him, speaking quietly.
“Now?”
“There’s a Motel 6 in Wyatt if you don’t want to drive back to Dallas tonight.”
He nudged the plates she’d brought to the island, toyed with the forks. “I was going to wait until this business with AJ was settled, but maybe I’ll just get it out of the way now.”
Somehow Lily knew what he was going to say, but she wasn’t going to let on. She wasn’t going to help him.
“I think we should separate.”
“You make it sound as if you think we have a chance. Do you?”
“Truth?” He met her glance.
She waited.
“I’m seeing someone. I’m in love with her. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but matters of the heart—”
“Please stop.”
His mouth closed. A fed-up sort of impatience fished through his eyes. He wanted to be done with her, with their marriage. He was done. The old Groucho Marx joke ran through her mind: “Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?” If that was true, Paul had turned off the lights and left the building. Closed the door on twenty-seven years of wedded bliss without warning. Or, she guessed the warnings had been there; she’d chosen to ignore them.
“Who is it?” Lily didn’t know why she asked.
“Pilar Dix, if you’ve just got to know.”
“Jerry’s wife?”
“Ex. They were divorced last year.”
“He doesn’t mind?”
“No.”
“Didn’t Pilar just have twins?”
“Three years ago. They aren’t mine, if that’s what you’re asking.” He shuddered slightly.
She wondered if he really thought he could do it, be a father to toddlers. He’d hire a nanny, no doubt.
He stood up, pulling his keys from his pocket. “I’ll call,” he said.
She nodded. They didn’t say good-bye.