What's Done In the Dark(25)

Paula shook her head. I could tell she couldn’t make any sense of what was going on. “They said a maid found him in his hotel bed dead. He must’ve been there all day. They said the Do Not Disturb sign was on the door, so the maid hadn’t cleaned the room. Not until late last night, when they realized that he hadn’t checked out, did they find him.”

“Oh, my God,” Greg said.

I had completely forgotten about the Do Not Disturb sign. The thought of this small detail sprang up like a billboard in my mind, reminding me all over again of how horrible that morning had been. I stood with my hand covering my mouth, tears in my eyes. I didn’t need to act. Watching Paula, I truly was heartbroken. “I just don’t understand it,” I managed to say. Which was the truth.

Greg said, “What did they say was his cause of death?”

Paula dabbed her tears as she pursed her lips to stifle more cries. Her mother, Ms. Jean, stepped up. “They haven’t said yet,” she replied. Her eyes were puffy and red as well. “All they told us is that it doesn’t look like foul play. I think it may have been his heart, but we won’t know until the medical examiner releases his findings.”

“He had a bad heart?” Greg asked. “I didn’t know that.”

Paula looked at me strangely. I had never mentioned that to Greg because I didn’t see the need. And I never knew his condition was bad enough to kill him. Maybe if I had . . .

Paula sniffed again as she told Greg, “Steven had a heart murmur. That’s why he had to stop running marathons. But we thought he had it under control. I just don’t understand. How does somebody just die in their sleep?”

Greg patted her hand. “I’m sure the medical examiner will have some answers for you. In the meantime, is there anything we can do?”

“I guess I need to notify Steven’s mom and begin planning . . . planning his . . .”

I stepped up when she couldn’t finish. “You don’t need to do anything right now.”

Paula extended her hand toward me, and as much as I didn’t want to, I reached out and took it. Her hand felt all soft and flabby, like Steven’s death had sucked everything strong out of her.

“I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this,” she said.

I finally sat down on the other side of her. As guilty as I felt, my grief was real, so I did what I was supposed to do—I let her cry on my shoulder.

“Well, one thing you don’t have to worry about is going through this alone. We are going to be right there for you,” Greg said. “Right, Felise?”

My stomach twisted in another sharp knot. “Right.”

I had never in my life felt as low as I did then.





16


Paula


I DIDN’T KNOW HOW LONG I had been driving around. I just needed to get out of the house. I needed to escape the nightmare that my life had become. I would give anything to turn back the hands of time, to go back just two days. I wouldn’t fight over frivolous things. I wouldn’t make my husband so unhappy that he didn’t want to come home. And most of all, I would push him to go see the doctor. My mind raced back to about exactly this time last month. Steven had canceled his doctor’s appointment because a meeting came up. I had brushed it off.

If only I had pushed him.

But would, could, should—none of those words mattered now. All that mattered was that Steven was gone.

My ringing cell phone snapped me out of my daze. I saw my mother was calling again. She’d been calling me nonstop for the last hour. I knew she was worried sick. I was supposed to be lying down, but the thought of lying in the bed that I had shared with my husband was suffocating and heartbreaking. I pressed Ignore again and continued driving. Before I knew it, I was pulling into the circular driveway of the Four Seasons Hotel. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I needed to come here. I needed some answers, and this seemed to be the only place I could get them.

I parked, then walked to the front desk and asked to speak to a manager. They brought me a curly-haired boy who looked like he couldn’t have been more than twenty-two years old.

“Can I speak to the manager?” I said softly.

He flashed a wide smile. “Um, yeah, you’ve got him.”

“Hi. Uh, I–I . . .” I stammered. “I’m sorry to bother you, but my husband was found here yesterday.”

He lost his smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“He died here yesterday,” I said, my voice cracking.

A look of compassion immediately crossed the young man’s face. “Oh, I am so sorry. I was off yesterday, but everyone’s talking about it. My condolences to you and your family.”