Page 14 of Death Row
Shereeksof the same perfume that’s been clinging to Noel when he comes home.
“Anyway,” she says, “my husband is waiting for me, so I won’t bother you. I’m sorry we’ve been keeping Noel from you so much lately. But things are wrapping up soon, so I promise, you’ll get him back. In fact, things went so well today that I insisted he go home early.”
Lisbeth says her goodbye and limps across the dining room to an adorable elderly man. He gets to his feet and kisses her when she approaches him. They look the way that I thought Noel and I would look someday.
I have made a terrible mistake.
“Talia?” Kinsey says. “You look really pale ...”
I don’t even answer her. I fumble around in my purse until my fingers close around my phone. I pull it out, and sure enough, there’s a message from Noel on the screen. It came about twenty minutes ago.
On my way home. Sorry to miss you, but thanks for leaving me some food. Have fun with Kinsey!
And then a second message:
I love you.
Oh God. I have to stop Noel from turning on that burner. I can’t let that happen. Kinsey is asking me if I’m okay, but Iignore her as I click on my husband’s name. He can’t possibly be home yet. I can stop this before anything happens.
But the call goes right to voicemail.
I try again, but the same thing happens. Did he turn off his phone? Sometimes he does that when he wants to focus.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
I imagine Noel walking into our gas-filled house. Maybe he’ll take a shower first, but maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll go right for the stove and turn it on. And then ...
Or maybe it’s already happened. Maybe that’s why his phone is going to voicemail.
No, I can’t think that way. Noel can’t be dead. Hecan’t.
“I’m sorry, Kinsey.” I shove my phone back into my purse and practically leap out of my seat. “I have to go.”
My friend is calling my name, but I ignore her. I’ve got to get home before my husband does. If I don’t, Noel is going to die, and it will be all my fault.
Chapter 14
Present Day
Father Decker is wearing the same kind of black jacket and black dress shirt that he had on the other day, when he was visiting with another inmate. But this time, I clearly see the white stripe on his collar associated with his status. Again, his hair is clipped short and he is clean shaven, unlike the way he was the first time we met.
And yes, I am 100 percent sure that this man is my husband.
He says his name is Father Richard Decker, but now that I am sitting across from him, even with a pane of glass separating us, it is clear to me who he is. He has the same face, the same bump on his nose from when he broke it during an illegal tackle in peewee football, and most of all, he has the same eyes.
When you look into the eyes of the love of your life, you know it.
I can’t stop staring at him as my entire body goes cold. I’ve been dreaming of this man every night, but this is real. He is really here in front of me, after I thought he was gone forever. I want to reach through the glass and throw my armsaround him. I want that kiss that I’ve been aching for in my dreams every night.
How is it possible he’s here? He’s supposed to bedead.
“Noel,” I breathe, although my voice is so soft that he doesn’t hear me.
“Talia, is it?” the chaplain says to me. “My name is Father Decker. I was told you’d like me to give you your last rites?”
His voice throws me. That’s not Noel’s voice. It’s deeper, almost like the voice of an older man in his fifties or sixties. But then again, Noel was always good at faking it. That’s how he managed to get our wedding at the Vineyard—by pretending to be Albert Swecker.
“Noel,” I say, louder this time. “I know it’s you.”
