Chapter 12 - THE TRUTH ABOUT DAVID
The words sat between us.
I wanted to misunderstand them.
I couldn’t.
“You killed someone?”
David nodded.
“Was he armed?”
“Yes.”
“Was he trying to kill you?”
“I believed he was.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
David closed his eyes.
“He pulled a gun.”
I exhaled.
“What happened?”
“We fought in a parking garage.”
His voice was flat.
“He fired first. I got the gun away from him.”
“And then?”
David hesitated.
Too long.
“And then, instead of running, I shot him.”
I stared at my husband.
The gentle man who used to carry spiders outside instead of killing them.
The man who cried when Logan was born.
“You executed him?”
“No.”
“Then explain it.”
“He reached for another weapon.”
“Did he have one?”
“No.”
My stomach turned.
David looked at me.
“I was scared. Angry. I had spent months hiding while Mercer watched my family.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“I know.”
I stood.
“I need air.”
“Catherine.”
“No.”
I walked into the hallway.
Rachel was there.
“You knew?”
She looked away.
“That’s why David couldn’t go to the police. Mercer had evidence.”
“Evidence of a murder.”
“Evidence Mercer manipulated.”
“Did David kill the man?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t soften it.”
Rachel nodded.
“You’re right.”
I leaned against the wall.
There had been a version of this story in my head where David was purely the victim.
Where we caught the bad man.
Went home.
Returned to normal.
There was no normal.
Not anymore.
Later that afternoon, two internal-affairs agents interviewed me.
Then prosecutors.
Then detectives.
Mercer had been charged with kidnapping, attempted murder, corruption, obstruction, and dozens of other offenses.
But David wasn’t walking away clean.
A prosecutor entered his room that evening.
“Mr. Winters, Philadelphia police reopened the case.”
I watched David.
He nodded.
“I figured.”
The prosecutor continued.
“Your cooperation against Mercer will be considered.”
“But?”
“But you may still face charges.”
I expected David to argue.
He didn’t.
“Okay.”
After the prosecutor left, I looked at him.
“You’re just accepting this?”
“What should I do?”
“Fight.”
“I will.”
“No, I mean fight for us.”
He stared at me.
“I’ve spent two years telling myself everything I did was for you.”
He shook his head.
“Some of it was.”
“And the rest?”
“Fear.”
He looked toward the door where Logan waited with Rachel.
“And cowardice.”
That surprised me.
“You were afraid?”
“Every day.”
“You could’ve trusted me.”
“I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He looked at me.
“Because if I came back, you would’ve looked at me exactly the way you’re looking at me now.”
I felt tears sting my eyes.
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you don’t know who I am.”
I swallowed.
“Maybe I don’t.”
David nodded slowly.
“Maybe you never did.”
That hurt because it was true.
A nurse interrupted us.
“Mrs. Winters?”
“Yes?”
“There’s someone asking for you downstairs.”
“Who?”
“She says she’s from the funeral home that handled your husband’s service.”
David and I looked at each other.
“Why?”
May you like
The nurse frowned.
“She says you need to know whose ashes were actually placed in your family plot.”
