But the next day, Frank had to admit the therapy was working—up to a point. Not enough to save his marriage. Not enough to make him love Nancy again. But enough to make him feel guilty about everything that was about to happen to her. That’s what had upset him so much about last night’s phone call. Frank had wanted to end things with Nancy on a high note. Instead, because of Billie’s interruption, he’d had to deal with Nancy’s tears. Tears at the table, and tears when he told her that he’d have to go away, the very next day, for work.
Frank’s flight wasn’t due to take off for a few hours more, and in the meantime, he was willing to play the part of a dutiful husband for a few more hours. All morning, Frank had been helping Nancy with the gift baskets she’d bring to church the next day for a ladies’ lunch. Frank knew how much Nancy looked forward to seeing her friends there. She would often take comfort in their companionship during his absences, which had grown more and more frequent.
The least Frank could do was help out one last time.
When he was done loading the minivan, Nancy leaned in for a hug. She kissed him on the lips, whispered, “I love you” in his ear.
Outside, it was raining. A break in the sweltering heat. And for a moment, Frank wondered if this trip was a mistake.
What if he did just end his affair with his California mistress, Suzanne?
If he did, what would Suzanne tell her daughters? What would happen to all the plans they had made? And had Suzanne seen the countless spreadsheets he’d been tweaking, hunched over his laptop, night after night, on nights they could have been gambling, or traveling together, or making love?
Did Suzanne have her suspicions? Frank didn’t know. But he had suspicions of his own. He knew that Suzanne wasn’t above making threats. And where there were threats, there was sometimes a fire, and could Frank really afford to take the risk? Especially now, when Billie had finally come up with a plan that was good?
Frank didn’t know what the plan was, specifically. He’d told Billie he did not want to know. “Plausible deniability”—a phrase he’d heard once in a movie—seemed like the safest way. That’s why he’d booked a ticket to California and told Nancy that he had to fly to Tampa for work. That’s why he was leaving Carrollton today.
Frank did not want to know. Especially because he’d heard something different in Billie’s voice in the course of their last conversation: The resolve it would take to actually end Nancy’s life. Billie Earl Johnson was a criminal, sure. But even for a criminal, murder would be no small thing.
It was no wonder it had taken Billie so long to work up the nerve.
But now that the moment was here, Frank looked at Nancy and felt tender—affectionate, almost. How innocent she was, in regards to what would soon befall her. How she looked at him, even now, as her life drew to its close. That look made Frank feel powerful—and why not? After all, he truly was in control and the power he’d wield, through the instrument of Billie Earl Johnson, was almost godlike.
Hadn’t Nancy promised him, years ago, to love him till death do they part?
Now she’d make good on that promise.
Standing out there in their driveway, Frank told her he’d only be gone for a couple of days. That all his traveling would wind down soon—he just knew it. When he got back this time, he’d take Nancy on a trip of their own. The romantic getaway they’d been talking about. Maybe they’d go snorkeling in St. John.
Maybe South America.
When they got home, they would have Brianna’s wedding to look forward to. And after that, who knew, maybe grandkids?
“Lord willing!” said Nancy.
She told Frank to travel safely. She said that she’d be there, waiting for him, as soon as he found his way home.