“Privately?”
“No, Beth already knows. Maybe your other daughter or son have mentioned it.”
Her father sat in his usual recliner, his face assuming a more usual expression of perplexity. “Something about a drawing? I couldn’t quite follow everything Emily said this morning. I think she was crying.”
Beth vowed to call her once Tony was gone. Always emotional, Emily would be hysterical once she understood that she was partly responsible. Or did she already know, thus the hysteria?
Tony sat on the sofa a few feet from Beth. “Mr. Marshall, I’d hoped to spare you from seeing the drawing, but I think I need to show it to you.”
“What is it?”
“A rather skillfully done, colored-pencil sketch of your wife naked.”
Her father didn’t so much as blink for a long time. Too long, or maybe it just felt that way. Then he swallowed. “I…wouldn’t have thought she’d do something like that.”
“I’m sorry.”
He only nodded, but in that minute, he aged another decade. Every line in his face seemed pronounced, his shoulders more rounded, his skin tone grayer.
“Dad?”
He didn’t look at her, only reached for the phone Tony handed over. He stared at a photo of the drawing, then moaned. Tony took the phone from her father’s suddenly slack hand.
His eyes unfocused, Dad seemed to be seeing another time and place. Tony didn’t push him. After a minute, her father said, “As I told Bethie, I suspected Christine was seeing someone. She’d become…less and less content with her life, or maybe just with me. I didn’t know how to reach her. How to change. I…hoped she would decide to keep our family together.”
Tony leaned forward. “I showed this to you only because you might recall an acquaintance of yours talking about his art. Or your wife mentioning how talented a friend was. It’s possible you even saw other drawings done by the same man.”
But Dad was shaking his head. “The only artist we knew was…” He looked frustrated at his inability to summon a name immediately. “He taught for a year or two at the community college. I liked his work, but Christine was less enthusiastic. I’m sure we had a couple of original watercolors of his around.” Dad, being Dad, turned his head as if he expected them to magically appear.
“Oh! I found three matted watercolors,” Beth said. “One was of the columnar basalt.”
“Yes, that was his. I suppose we never hung them. I left that kind of thing to Chris.”
“You never heard that any of your friends drew as a hobby.”
“I’m afraid not.” Forehead wrinkled, he said, “I sometimes didn’t pay attention to chatter. Chris could have said something, and, well…”
He’d tuned her out.
Beth saw that Tony understood, too. He nodded and rose to his feet. “Then I regret asking you to look at the drawing.”
Her father stood, too, visibly trying to square his shoulders. “My marriage ended a very long time ago. It seems it was over even longer ago than I knew.” He turned his sad gaze on Beth. “Is Emily right that you think you saw something else this monster drew?”
“I don’t know, Dad, but…there’s something at the back of my mind.”
He looked at Tony again. “I wish I could help, but I never knew who the man was.”
Tony inclined his head. “I need to get going. Beth, don’t go outside, even to get the mail. You understand?”
She made a face at him. “Of course I do. I plan to spend most of the day right here on the couch. But…will you call? So I know when you’re coming back?”
“I’ll call.” He took a half step toward her, as if he wanted to kiss her, then abruptly turned away, thanked her father and left.
* * *
FEELING MORE TURMOIL than he liked, Tony drove straight to the tax firm. Yesterday, he’d been assured that Keith Reistad, one of two founders of the firm, would be there today. The other founder had retired at some point, although additional partners had since been added.
In the parking lot, he turned off the engine but sat there for a few minutes. Even his stomach churned with tension.