“Just go ahead and spit it out, Rill. I know you’re pissed at me. If my bruised hip isn’t proof enough, the fact that you haven’t been able to look me straight in the eye for a year and a half now has clued me in. I assumed you were mad at the world, but now I get it. It’s me in particular, right?”
Rill didn’t deny it, even though what Everett said was only partially true. He wasn’t too thrilled with the world in general at the present time, but he’d reserved a special place of distrust for Everett.
For the first time in more than a year, he stared at Everett . . . really tried to see him. Everett met his stare steadily, without a trace of guilt. Everett was a good actor, though. One of the best on the planet. Suddenly, the question was there in his throat, burning him. There was no turning back.
“Were you sleeping with Eden?” burst out of his mouth.
For a surreal moment, he wasn’t sure he’d actually spoken the words. The question had rolled around in his mind so long now, perhaps he couldn’t tell the difference between the real question and the imagined one. Everett’s blank expression only increased the sense of unreality.
Finally, Everett blinked his bluish-green eyes as though he tried to bring Rill into focus. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” Rill rasped. “Were you sleeping with Eden? Before she died?”
Everett gave a disbelieving bark of laughter. Rill should have been glad to have seen his sheer incredulity, and he did feel some relief. Everett may be a great actor, but he wasn’t sure that even Everett Hughes could pull off that genuine of an expression of utter and complete shock.
His friend hadn’t betrayed him. Rill’s anger and confusion only mounted, though. The idea of Everett sleeping with Eden had been a bitter pill, but at least it was an understandable scenario . . . something he could wrap his mind around.
“That’s what this is about?” Everett asked. “Jesus, Rill. No. The answer is no. Why the hell did you even ask me that?”
Rill stared at Katie’s Maserati parked in the drive, but he didn’t really see it. His mind was filled with the image of the coroner who’d told him the truth a year and a half ago, the day after Eden had been killed.
“She was pregnant. When she died. Eden, I mean,” Rill said hoarsely.
The words just hung there; even the crisp, pristine forest air couldn’t seem to dissipate the toxicity of them. He didn’t look at Everett, but he sensed his deepening incredulity.
“And . . . and . . . from what you just said, I gather it wasn’t yours?” Everett asked.
Rill shook his head. “I had told you we’d been fighting.”
“Yeah, I remember you mentioning that she was feeling neglected,” Everett said after a moment, sounding disoriented. “I knew she wasn’t thrilled about you being out of the country again to film An Elegant Heist. You always asked her to come and stay with you on location, but she never wanted to. I didn’t know things had gotten that bad between y
ou two, though.”
Rill’s glance flickered over Everett’s face. He looked like he’d just been clobbered. Rill sighed heavily and collapsed back in the chair. “That makes two of us who didn’t know. I thought things were bad, but nowhere near as bad as Eden must have thought.”
Neither of them spoke for a minute. Rill sensed Everett waiting patiently for him to continue.
“We hadn’t slept together for close to half a year before she died. She never wanted to. Still, I hadn’t given up hope. Not completely. Still hadn’t, up to the point I got the phone call about the car wreck.”
“Jesus,” Everett whispered.
“The coroner told me she was three months pregnant when she died,” Rill stated flatly. “When he mentioned it to me, he had all this sadness and compassion in his eyes. He’d assumed it was my child.”
They both sat in silence for a moment. Rill suddenly felt exhausted, like he could sleep for a week.
“Why did you think it was me?” Everett asked.
Rill shrugged. “You knew Eden. She was reserved. Shy. She hardly was a social butterfly. If she wasn’t at the museum, she was at home in her garden. Her only good friends were you and Katie.” He glanced over at Everett. On this side of having asked the question, Rill realized the full impact for the first time of wrongfully suspecting his friend. “I’m sorry,” he said truthfully. “The fact of the matter is, I’m glad it wasn’t you, but—”
“But what?” Everett asked. Rill heard the trace of anger in his voice and, deep down, was glad for it. He deserved Everett’s animosity for having judged him all these months without offering him a chance to proclaim his innocence.
“At least if it was you, I could have understood,” he said gruffly. “Things were falling apart for Eden and me. If she’d turned to you for comfort, at least it would have made sense to me. She loved you as a friend. You would have treated her decently, at the very least. Better than I did.”
“You treated Eden like a queen.”
“Apparently she didn’t think so. But that’s not the point. I hated the idea of you two being together, but like I said, it made sense. I left a hole in her life, and you could have filled it. It’s not like every damned woman in the country wouldn’t want to be with Everett Hughes.”
“That’s bullshit, Rill. It’s not fair, and you know it. Eden cared about that crap about as much as I do,” Everett said bitterly.