keys on his computer and suddenly, Charlie was watching a video of a bunch of gnus.
Upstairs, she heard a door open. Charlie crossed her arms low over her stomach. What was the proper thing for a wife to do when her estranged husband, who hadn’t been inside their house in nine months, was inside the house?
She found Ben in the guest room, which was more of a catch-all for extra books, some filing cabinets and the custom shelves that used to hold Ben’s Star Trek collectibles.
It was when Charlie had realized the Star Trek stuff was gone that she had known Ben was serious.
“Hey,” she said.
He was inside the walk-in closet, rummaging through file boxes.
“Need help?” she asked.
“No.”
Charlie bumped her leg against the bed. Should she leave? She should leave.
“My plea bargain from today,” Ben said, so she guessed he was looking for old notes relating to the case. “Guy lied about his accomplice.”
“I’m sorry.” Charlie sat on the bed. “You should take Barkzilla’s squeaky. I found it by the—”
“I got him a new one.”
Charlie looked down at the floor. She tried not to think about Ben at the pet store looking for a toy for their dog without her. Or with someone else. “I wonder if the person who leaked the bad timeline to the news did it for the attention or did it to throw off the press.”
“Dickerson County is looking at the security footage from the hospital.”
Charlie couldn’t see the connection. “Great.”
“Whoever slashed your dad’s tires was probably some idiot acting out, but they’re taking it seriously.”
“Asshole,” Charlie muttered, because Rusty had lied about why he needed a lift.
Ben poked his head out of the closet. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Someone spray-painted his house, too. They wrote ‘goat fucker.’ Or just ‘fucker’ because the goat was already there.”
“I saw the ‘goat’ last weekend.”
“What were you doing at the HP last weekend?”
He stepped out of the closet with a file box in his hands. “I see your dad the last Sunday of every month. You know that.”
Rusty and Ben had always had a weird kind of friendship. They treated each other like contemporaries despite the age difference. “I didn’t realize you were still doing that.”
“Yeah, well.” He put the box on the bed. The mattress sagged from the weight. “I’ll update Keith about the ‘fucker.’” He meant Keith Coin, the chief of police and Ken Coin’s older brother. “He said he’d send someone around about the goat, but with what happened today …” His voice trailed off as he took the top off the box.
“Ben.” Charlie watched him search the files. “Do you feel like I never let you answer questions?”
“Aren’t you letting me answer one right now?”
She smiled. “I mean, because Dad did this convoluted thing with the car window, and—that part doesn’t matter. He basically said that you have to choose between being right and being happy. He said that was something Gamma told him she needed to decide before she died, whether she wanted to be right or happy.”
He looked up from the box. “I don’t understand why you can’t be both.”
“I guess if you’re right too many times, like you know too much, or you’re too smart and you let people know it …” She wasn’t sure how to explain. “Gamma knew the answer to a lot of things. To everything, actually.”
“So your dad said she would’ve been happier if she pretended she wasn’t as smart as she was?”
Charlie instinctively defended her father. “Gamma said it, not Dad.”
“That sounds like a problem with their marriage, not ours.” He rested his hand on the box. “Charlie, if you’re worried that you’re like your mom, that’s not a bad thing. From everything I’ve heard, she was an amazing person.”
He was so fucking decent it took her breath away. “You’re an amazing person.”
He gave a sharp, sarcastic laugh. She had tried this before, over-correcting her bitchiness, treating him like a toddler in need of a participation trophy.
She said, “I’m serious, Ben. You’re smart and funny and—” His surprised look cut off her praise. “What?”
“Are you crying?”
“Shit.” Charlie tried not to cry in front of anybody but Lenore. “I’m sorry. I’ve been doing this since I woke up.”
He was utterly still. “You mean since the school?”
Charlie smoothed together her lips. “Before that.”
“Do you even know who that guy is?”
She was sick of the question. “The whole point of being with a stranger is that they’re a stranger, and in a perfect world, you never have to see them again.”
“Good