whole thing on Carlton, saying it was his idea, and he, in turn, insisted it was hers. The two of them were so charming. Like everyone else in their lives, I couldn’t stay angry with either of them. I did, when Helen and I were alone, tell her never to test me that way again.” His voice softened. “She never did. We were married seven months later.”
“And you and Carlton remained close?”
“No. Helen and Carlton stayed devoted to each other, of course. But I was busy building my own career. The little free time I had I wanted to spend with my wife. Just the two of us. I saw Carlton at family functions. That was about it.”
“And how did you and Abraham get along?” Rita Wellers jotted more notes on her pad.
Larry shook his head slowly. “Not well at all. Abraham saw me as beneath his economic status, which, of course, I was. Marrying an assistant professor was not his plan for his daughter. He wanted to groom her to take over his business. And she may have, given time. But…are you married, Chief Willers?”
She took her time answering. Mort wondered if she was checking her boundaries. He was glad she decided to trust Larry.
“I’m not. Unless you count the job.”
Larry pointed to Mort. “You and my friend here share the same spouse.” He smiled. “There’s nothing like the period of being newlywed. It’s as though one exists in a golden sphere of bliss no one other than the couple can occupy. Helen was angered by her father’s judgment of me. She let him know her allegiance was to our marriage, and instead of spending time with him, learning what she needed to in order to take over, she focused on supporting me. She attended faculty functions, met with the spouses of my colleagues.” Larry huffed out a chuckle. “She even tried her hand at cooking and cleaning. Not with great success, but she tried. My hunch is, if she’d been given the time, she would have settled into married life, our golden glow would have turned into something more comfortable, and she would have returned to her father’s business.” He looked away. “But she died before that happened.”
“Can you tell me about that?”
Larry took another long pull from his water bottle before answering Chief Willers’s gentle question. Mort knew what his friend was experiencing. No matter how many years passed, Mort still found it difficult to talk about Edie’s death. He was certain the same was true for Larry.
“It was…” Larry cleared his throat. “It was a few weeks before our first wedding anniversary. Abraham had arranged an extravagant celebration to mark his fiftieth birthday. A three-day affair on Orcas Island. Helen had to attend, of course, and she wanted me to go with her.” Mort heard the familiar strain of guilt in his friend’s voice as he spoke. After all these years Larry was still dealing with the if-onlys. “But I was busy with classes. Far too eager to impress the tenured dinosaurs in my department. And, truth be told, I wasn’t interested in standing beneath Abraham Smydon’s withering judgment for three days. I urged her to go alone.” He cleared his throat again. “And she did.”
“Is this line of questioning really necessary?” Mort asked.
Rita Willers remained calm as she answered him. “I like context. It explains so much. Like how Carlton Smydon and L. Jackson Clark became close. If I can get a good idea of what the forest is like, I can identify the trees more clearly.” She turned her attention back to Larry. “Is this troubling for you? Would you like to take a break?”
Larry reached a hand to rest a moment on Mort’s shoulder. “I am blessed with caring friends.” He pulled his hand away. “I drove Helen to the ferry. It was a Friday morning. I’m sure you can pull some file and find the exact ferry she took. I kissed her, told her to send my birthday regards to her father, and watched her walk aboard. I never saw her again.”
“Larry, I—” Mort was interrupted
“And you and Carlton remained close?”
“No. Helen and Carlton stayed devoted to each other, of course. But I was busy building my own career. The little free time I had I wanted to spend with my wife. Just the two of us. I saw Carlton at family functions. That was about it.”
“And how did you and Abraham get along?” Rita Wellers jotted more notes on her pad.
Larry shook his head slowly. “Not well at all. Abraham saw me as beneath his economic status, which, of course, I was. Marrying an assistant professor was not his plan for his daughter. He wanted to groom her to take over his business. And she may have, given time. But…are you married, Chief Willers?”
She took her time answering. Mort wondered if she was checking her boundaries. He was glad she decided to trust Larry.
“I’m not. Unless you count the job.”
Larry pointed to Mort. “You and my friend here share the same spouse.” He smiled. “There’s nothing like the period of being newlywed. It’s as though one exists in a golden sphere of bliss no one other than the couple can occupy. Helen was angered by her father’s judgment of me. She let him know her allegiance was to our marriage, and instead of spending time with him, learning what she needed to in order to take over, she focused on supporting me. She attended faculty functions, met with the spouses of my colleagues.” Larry huffed out a chuckle. “She even tried her hand at cooking and cleaning. Not with great success, but she tried. My hunch is, if she’d been given the time, she would have settled into married life, our golden glow would have turned into something more comfortable, and she would have returned to her father’s business.” He looked away. “But she died before that happened.”
“Can you tell me about that?”
Larry took another long pull from his water bottle before answering Chief Willers’s gentle question. Mort knew what his friend was experiencing. No matter how many years passed, Mort still found it difficult to talk about Edie’s death. He was certain the same was true for Larry.
“It was…” Larry cleared his throat. “It was a few weeks before our first wedding anniversary. Abraham had arranged an extravagant celebration to mark his fiftieth birthday. A three-day affair on Orcas Island. Helen had to attend, of course, and she wanted me to go with her.” Mort heard the familiar strain of guilt in his friend’s voice as he spoke. After all these years Larry was still dealing with the if-onlys. “But I was busy with classes. Far too eager to impress the tenured dinosaurs in my department. And, truth be told, I wasn’t interested in standing beneath Abraham Smydon’s withering judgment for three days. I urged her to go alone.” He cleared his throat again. “And she did.”
“Is this line of questioning really necessary?” Mort asked.
Rita Willers remained calm as she answered him. “I like context. It explains so much. Like how Carlton Smydon and L. Jackson Clark became close. If I can get a good idea of what the forest is like, I can identify the trees more clearly.” She turned her attention back to Larry. “Is this troubling for you? Would you like to take a break?”
Larry reached a hand to rest a moment on Mort’s shoulder. “I am blessed with caring friends.” He pulled his hand away. “I drove Helen to the ferry. It was a Friday morning. I’m sure you can pull some file and find the exact ferry she took. I kissed her, told her to send my birthday regards to her father, and watched her walk aboard. I never saw her again.”
“Larry, I—” Mort was interrupted
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