The Whole Truth

CHAPTER 100

SHAW SAT ON THE GROUND next to Anna’s grave. The leaves were just starting to turn and the wind had a bite. It felt good to be here, as though she were still alive. Her presence seemed very real. He believed he could stay here forever.

He heard them approaching long before he could see anyone. He rose and stared as the group came into view, Wolfgang leading the way. Shaw started to furtively back away from Anna’s grave until he focused on Katie and Frank. Then he stopped, unsure of exactly what was going on, or what he should do.

Wolfgang walked directly up to him. “These people” – he motioned to Katie and Frank – “they have told us things about what happened.”

“They have told us the truth, Shaw,” Natascha said, taking his hand in hers. “And we are so sorry for how we treated you.”

“Yes, so very sorry,” Wolfgang added with a guilty glance at him.

Shaw looked sharply at Katie and Frank. Frank didn’t meet his gaze, but kept his eyes pointed at the ground. Katie just gave him an encouraging smile.

Wolfgang slipped his arms around Shaw and hugged him, while Natascha embraced both men. Soon, tears were slipping down the Fischers’ cheeks. Even Shaw’s eyes moistened and his lips quivered from time to time as the three stood around Anna’s final resting place with their arms interlocked, quietly talking.

Katie had to keep wiping bunches of tears from her eyes as she watched with Frank.

He finally whispered, “I can’t take this anymore. I’m no good with the emotional stuff, Katie. Give me a nine-millimeter Glock stuffed down my throat over this crap any day.” He turned and left, but not before Katie thought she heard a tiny sob escape his lips.

Nearly an hour later Wolfgang and Natascha took their leave.

Katie slowly walked over to Shaw as he stood by the grave.

“Thanks for what you did,” he said, his gaze on the mound of dirt.

“How are you holding up?”

“Part of me knows that Anna is dead. The other part… just can’t accept it.”

“Grieving is an odd thing. They say it’s a process with discrete phases. But it seems so different for everybody. And you feel so alone, that I don’t see how they can call it anything other than a random sort of… personalized hell.”

He turned to look at her. “You lost someone?”

She shrugged. “Anyone who’s lived has lost somebody.”

“I meant someone in particular.”

Katie opened her mouth but just as quickly closed it.

“Is that why you drink too much?” he said slowly, his gaze now on the colorful trees.

Katie dug her hands in her coat pockets and stabbed at the earth with her toe. “His name was Behnam. He was a little boy who should have grown up to be a fine man, but he didn’t. And it was my fault. I won my second Pulitzer and he ended up in a hole outside of Kandahar.” She took a deep breath. “And, yeah, that’s why I drink too much.”

“You’ll never forget him, will you?”

She shook her head. “Never. Can’t.” She choked back a sob.

“I know just how you feel,” he said. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Good-bye, Katie. Take care of yourself.”

He turned and walked off. In a few seconds, Katie could no longer see him.

She stood there by herself among the dead. Glancing at Anna’s grave, she bent down and moved the flowers Shaw had placed there closer to the headstone. In the few words carved in granite Katie saw the life and memory of a remarkable woman, and the haunting image of the man who had loved her in life, and still clearly loved her in death.

She finally rose from the consecrated ground, turned, and slowly walked back into the world of the living.

And then Katie started to run.

The sounds of the footsteps approached him from the rear. He turned, his face registering surprise when she came into view.

Shaw said, “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I just realized I don’t have a way out of here.”

“I can give you a ride somewhere.” He checked his watch. “We can be in Frankfurt in about ninety minutes. You can catch a flight to New York from there. Maybe be home in time for a midnight dinner at your favorite dive.”

“I don’t want to go to New York.”

“It’s where you live, isn’t it?”

“I’ve lived out of a suitcase my entire adult life. And I don’t have a job.”

“You probably could get Amanpour’s CNN gig now.”

“Don’t want it.”

“So what do you want?”

“A ride from you.”

“Okay, but where?”

“We’ll talk about it on the way.”

They stared at each other. Her eyes were glistening and Shaw’s gaze drifted to the sidewalk. He said hesitantly, “Katie, I can’t-”

She put a hand up to his mouth. “I know you can’t, Shaw. And if you’d said anything else other than that, I would’ve already walked away. That’s not what I want.”

“So what do you want?”

She glanced off into the darkness of the Wisbach night before looking back at him. When she spoke her voice seemed to buckle with the weight of her words.

“I’m an alcoholic. I’m unemployed. I don’t have many friends. In fact, I don’t think I have any friends. And I’m terrified, Shaw. I’m scared to death that this is it for me. And if you tell me to go to hell, I’ll tell you that we’ve both been there and it’s just as bad as everyone thinks it is.”

As the wind rustled the leaves on the trees and all around them the good folks of Wisbach settled in for a pleasant night’s sleep, Shaw and Katie stared at each other in silence. It was as though neither had the courage, the breath, or the heart to speak.

Finally, Shaw murmured, “Let’s go.”

The two of them turned and walked down the quiet street.

Exactly to where, it was certain, neither of them knew.