Behr needed stitches, but there was no way he was bringing Trevor with him to the emergency room. He’d texted Susan to come pick up their son so he could go on his own, and he’d ignored a half dozen calls from her while she was on her way. Nothing credible beyond outright lies had come to his mind about why he needed her to come get the boy, so he was hoping to avoid the conversation altogether. When he heard her keys in the door, he realized that was unlikely.
“Where have you been? I was worried,” Susan said as soon as she entered.
“Out … doing a few errands,” Behr answered lamely.
“Errands.”
“Yeah.” Fuck. He felt her eyes find the peroxide and bloody dish towels on the kitchen counter behind him.
“Did you go to the bank?”
“No.”
“The car wash?”
“No.”
“Did you buy formula and diapers?”
“No.”
“Where were you, Frank? What errands?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damnit, Frank! Where is he?”
“Taking a nap.” She moved past Behr, grabbing Trevor’s snowsuit, and saw the blood on it.
“Whose blood is this? Did something happen to him?” She raced into the living room and pulled the sleeping baby from the Pack ’N Play. Her hands began picking at his clothes, trying to uncover him.
“No. He’s fine. It’s mine.”
As she turned she glanced through the open door to the second bedroom and saw the photos of body mutilations all over the walls in there.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, turning Trevor away and covering his eyes, even though they were closed and he was still asleep. “You think this is a suitable environment for our son?” she asked.
“He doesn’t go in there, and they’re covered up when I know he’s gonna be over here, Suze,” Behr said, knowing how foolish it sounded. “It’s not like he’s reading the reports.”
“Still, Frank … What happened today? What happened to you?” she asked. “Did you take our son on your case?”
“Susan, don’t get yourself all hyped up. Do you think I’d put him in—”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’d do,” she said with force. She didn’t go in for that kind of language ordinarily. It was a big deal to her. She was that mad, and he knew she had a right to be. She stared him down. “All I know is that this little being is my whole life. And I thought you were a part of it. But now I just don’t know …”
“Don’t you think he’s that to me too?”
“Well, apparently chasing missing hookers and God knows what else is part of your life too,” she said.
Behr said nothing.
“Tell me what happened right now.” He’d tried to cover the rag wrapped around his arm with a long-sleeved shirt, but it had soaked through with seeping blood. The shirt was dark colored, so he didn’t know if she could actually see it, but the time for obfuscation was over. He gave her a brief recounting of the day’s events. Her mouth hung partially open, her eyes blinking rapidly as she assimilated the facts.
When she finally spoke her voice was so flat and free of emotion it chilled him to his core. “Something’s really wrong with you,” she said. “I thought you were struggling to get out from under, but now I know what’s really going on: you’re not even trying, you’re just bored and hungry for action.”
The accusation hit him like an artillery round. He almost felt his mouth gaping, like a fish out of water, as he tried to answer, but she spoke first.
“Do me a favor: don’t come by for a while.”
“Suze, no way—”
“Just a little while. Get your thinking straight.”
“Come on—”
“Jesus H., Frank. I’m thinking about getting a lawyer involved here.”
“Don’t do that,” he said, more volume and anger to his voice than he intended. “Please don’t,” he modulated.
“You exposed our son to a killer. A goddamned murderer.”
He had nothing he could say in response.
An interminable silence followed, and they stared at each other before he finally nodded. With Trevor in her arms, his snowsuit wrapped around him, she left. When the door had slammed, the quiet and emptiness that remained were absolute.