DITW 15-11: The Way That Runs Among the Lost

She continued. “I told myself it wasn’t stealing. I deemed it as reallocation.”

Josh was far behind enough she took it as proof he had heard no rumors beforehand. He frowned, brow crinkling in complete bewilderment. “Stole money from who? From me?”

He thought she’d meant the money she took from their account to buy a house. Not a heist. She’d told him. But that was the only thing Josh could conceive. Not what she’d really done.

“From Stone,” she said. “From Devlin. Him specifically.”

Josh’s face went through elastic movement as he showed off an impressive range of contradicting emotions, rage through humor. Then put his hands on his hips, turned away, shaking his head. He faced her again, gesturing with jerky hands, wanting to know more, saying, “What are you talking about?”

“I took money, Josh. I took money from Stone.”

“You mean...”

“Money that wasn’t mine.”

Disgruntled Josh returned. Bothered Josh. Maybe there was something masculine about him when he did this that she secretly enjoyed. Rubbed his brow and made that pained face. It was almost paternal. Like a bothered father. He was going to be a noble father. Colleen was a lucky girl. 

But right now Josh had this other problem. This woman in his life who caused him much consternation and worry, but a woman he loved anyway, as much as he didn’t want to sometimes. Josh had an enduring love. She wanted him to see it in her, too.

At last, he said, “Why? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t even know,” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “I never hoarded it or, or kept it. Not cash or anything. I diverted money Devlin had stolen himself, and—”

“Wait, Devlin stole money?”

“Again: diverted. He . . . he just copied some things his dad did. Moving money to avoid tax, moving it to shell corporations, and, and . . . the money goes to these corporations, stays a while, moves to another . . . I moved it to buy clothes and dinners and—”

Josh palmed his forehead, full realization coming to him. “That fucking suit you bought me.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding.

Josh paced. She let him work out what he was feeling, gave him space. “You would buy shoes, and I would know they were, like, a thousand dollars, and I would think that seems dangerous. And then . . . Sometimes I would think I should stop you. That you were spending money you hadn’t earned yet. But you know what? I trusted you. I . . . I always think you know what you’re doing. I should have said something. I should have—”

“No, Josh. You’re right. I knew you trusted me. I knew you wouldn’t say anything about it.”

“And if I did, you’d just talk circles around me.”

She raised her eyebrows, an instinct to defend herself spiking up, but ultimately failing to launch, pulled earthward by the lies she’d spun around the man she loved. “I would.”

“I’d get mad you were spending our money and that the only reason you were even working at Stone was so we could afford a house.” He paced again and Colleen grew agitated, sensing her father’s perplexity. He stopped and looked at Colleen in her crib. “You were supposed to get in and get out, make enough money we could be halfway to owning a home.”

“I know.”

He braced himself on the crib’s rail, hands gripping the wood. Colleen eased. “But it wasn’t our money,” he said.

“No.”

“It was Devlin’s.” He turned. “And what was Devlin doing with it? Avoiding taxes?”

She chuckled. “He had his own accounts. In Cayman. His war chests, as he called them. He wanted to start his own company.”

“Doing what?”

“Shipping.”

Josh didn’t get it. Just staring at the floor between them and shaking his head, not one to indulge in conspiracies of nefarious business behavior, not one to see far ahead into the schemes of the wicked.

“That’s what his dad does,” she said. “He wanted to take money out of Stone and start a competing boutique, handling some specific lines.”

“Like illegal things? What?”

“No. That wasn’t the plan. But I wouldn’t put it past him. Land lines up into the north. Not terrible ideas, but he’s just not the man who could do something like that.”

It was too much for Josh to contemplate. And he didn’t care, anyway. Didn’t care about Devlin anymore. “You’re telling me you were just Robin Hood? Is that how come you’re not in jail?”

At the mention of the word jail, all that dread she’d experienced when she’d first split from Josh came rushing back. Her hand went to cover her stomach. Some nights she’d cried thinking she would go to jail pregnant, or worse, that all her worry and suffering would end her pregnancy. That her own actions—her sins—would end her baby’s life. That the punishment for what she’d done would be another miscarriage. She would roll on the bed clutching her belly praying and crying and swearing to God she would make things right. That she would never do wrong again.

“I’m not in jail because I made everything right.”

“You gave the money back?”

She rubbed her brow now, acting like Josh. Josh thinking it was as simple as that. “No, I, uh, showed them what I’d done, and . . . they were more interested in, in...”

“Who’s they?”

“Stone. The real Stone. His lawyer, some other executives. They...”

“You ratted Devlin out?”

She nodded. “Yes. I did.”

Josh smirked and chuckled, though showed no humor in his eyes. She wasn’t sure what amused him; Devlin’s demise or his betraying wife’s endless treachery.

She said, “It was the right thing.”

Josh nodded, saying, “I guess.” He turned away, stood over Colleen now.

Their daughter had fallen asleep during her mother’s terrible confession. She shouldn’t be so lucky as this: to admit all her wrongs from such a wonderful location; a warm room in a quiet house, shared with her husband and baby girl. But perhaps doing the right thing brought its own rewards.

“He told me everything. He showed me how all of it worked.”

“You ratted him out?”

“I did. His punishment will be severe and long-lasting.”

Josh found no joy in that, staring empty-eyed at sleeping Colleen.

She said, “At some point, you know, diverting that money, I think I just wanted to hurt Devlin. I wanted to sabotage this thing I had going on. A good job, good pay. I never thought Devlin was a good person. I never liked him. Maybe I had a hopeful glimmer every so often that I was wrong and maybe we could work something out, you know...?”

Josh turned his head toward her. “Stay at Stone?”

“Do what we were doing. Which would mean you had to be willing to—”

“Suffer?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Then at some point I... I just wanted to hurt him. Really get him back.”

“For giving you a job?”

She turned to look at Josh, his expression stony and unconvinced of her virtuous retelling of the summer she’d done all the worst things imaginable and no one stopped her. “For offering me a job that was more than just a job. For offering me so much, for luring the darkest parts of me to the surface, wrangling that evil amphibian out of the water just so he could present it to you like a trophy.”

Josh said nothing, only cocked his head and showed her more stoniness.

“I know,” she said, voice soft and airy, unafraid to admit his unspoken accusation. “It was in me. I did those things. I did all of them. No one made me do them.”Josh looked down again at Colleen, and she was happy to stand at his side and not say anything. He smiled, admiring eyes washing over his baby daughter.

He faced her then, and held her neck, his hand warm, peaceful. “That’s why you’re still there?”

She leaned her head into his touch, loving his palm on her skin. “I showed them Devlin’s plan. Showed them why it wouldn’t work. Showed them how it could work.”

“Keith Stone’s not in love with you?”

“No. He’s divorced. He doesn’t really date. Not that I know of. . . . He’s not like how you’re thinking.”

“He’s not like Devlin?”

“No. He’s scary. He’s not all talk. . . . It’s long hours; it’s no fun. No fun at all. It’s nothing like it was before. Now it’s all work, no play, and it’s hard. The hours are long. Nothing is as glamorous as Devlin made it, but . . . the pay is good. The pay is great. I’m good at what I do.”

“And that’s kicking Devlin out of the nest. Taking his spot. Making his money.”

She didn’t react to Josh’s harshness. She said, “But I will not fuck it up like he did.”

Josh heaved himself off the crib, rubbing his head and walking away, back to the dresser, looking at his own reflection. “And I see this picture in the paper. You and Keith Stone.”

“Meyer said Steve sent it to you.”

Josh said, “The $14,000 picture.”

“At least it got you to my door.”

Josh looked offended in his reflection. She joined him at the mirror, putting her hands on his shoulders, pressing her chin to his back. He said, “That’s what you think?”

“Am I wrong?”

“I should have been here before,” he said. “Did you pay Steve to send me that picture?”

Her eyes darted up to meet his in the mirror. He was joking, smirking to one side. “I knew you would come when you were ready,” she said. “And I would wait.”

“Your message made it all the way to Mexico,” he said. “I opened my phone, and I saw you had moved on and anything I’d hoped for passed me by.”

She slunk her arms around him, hugged his shoulders harder. “It was business. I attended as his guest, not his date.”

“You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was married to him. I had no idea anyone would take my picture—”

“It was right out front of the venue. It was an event where they take pictures. It’s the whole point of going.”

“I had no idea the paper would print my picture.”

“You looked incredible.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry you saw it. I’m sorry it upset you. I’m sorry it ruined your trip.”

“It didn’t. Meyer just says that. I bitched and moaned the whole morning and maybe I bitched at him, too. We squabbled. He was mad at me. Then he goes over the handlebars and he blames me.”

“He’s only joking.”

“I know, Kimmy. I know.”

“You had to end your trip, sell the bikes . . . I know all about it.”

“It was an adventure,” he said.

“You needed an adventure.” She pressed her cheek to his collar, and he held her wrist. 

They stayed like that and the moment was long and peaceful before Josh said, “Keith Stone didn’t give you money for the house?”

She let him go, amused by Josh’s attachment to male involvement in her affairs, but disappointed that there were things he wouldn’t let go. She’d done it to him, yes, but he did it to himself, too. She stepped back and sat on the bed, and Josh turned to face her.

“No, Josh. Keith Stone has nothing to do with our house.”

He huffed a breath, looked around the room, brow pinched. “Then how the hell can you afford a place like this? How much is Keith Stone paying you?”