Page 84 of A River of Crows

Libby retied her robe and sat back down next to Caroline on the couch. “Okay, so as I was saying, Vince called his friend from college who’s a lawyer. He said the abuse would be hard to prove since you took no pictures nor called the police.”

“I’ve called Walt,” Caroline said.

Libby held up a finger. “That’s good. He’s probably had to keep records.”

Caroline bit her lip. “I’ve lied, though, saying Jay hurt me during a flashback.” And he’s seen Jay having flashbacks, Caroline thought.

“Well,” Libby continued, “the good news is that the judge would probably talk to Ridge and Sloan.”

Shit. Caroline might convince Ridge to lie if he believed this was for the greater good, but Sloan would never play along. She worshiped her dad.

“I don’t want the judge talking to them. How traumatizing! I don’t want anyone talking to them about it, including you or Vince. I’ve spent so much time trying to convince them that the times their Daddy hurt us, he was having a bad dream. They’d tell the judge that too.”

Libby pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, I’m not sure what other options you have here, Caroline. We have to protect you; we have to protect the kids. Sloan and Ridge need to hear the truth. All of it. The other family, the story you made up to justify Jay’s violence, everything.”

Caroline’s guts felt knotted together. Sloan and Ridge were not toddlers that she could sell bullshit to. Sloan especially. “There’s got to be a safer, more sure-fire way.”

Libby folded her legs underneath her. “Okay, so let’s brainstorm. Vince already said we’d pay for your lawyer and do anything we can to help you. What else can we do?”

That question—What else can we do?—kept ringing through Caroline’s mind. It was that question that planted the seed for everything that was to come.

“It would have to be after we leave,” Libby said. “If he disappears when we move, it will raise red flags, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Caroline said. It was 2:00 AM, and Caroline had to pinch herself every so often to be sure this wasn’t a dream. Libby had gone from shock and outrage at Caroline’s plan to putting the finishing touches on it. Half of Caroline thought this was all just crazy talk—that they’d both wake up in the morning and laugh at the silly fantasy their exhaustion and anger had cooked up. But the other half of her thought it was crazy enough to work.

“I can tell Jay he needs to plan a fishing trip with Ridge. I can crush some sort of pills in his drink. Once he’s out, Ridge can walk to a set location, and you and Vince can be there.”

“That all sounds well and good, but they’ll assume someone took Ridge. They won’t stop looking.”

Caroline chewed on her fingernail. “What if we made it look like Jay killed him?”

“Caroline!” Libby pulled away from her. “The plan was getting Ridge to safety, not to frame Jay.”

“It’s like you said, unless they believe Ridge is dead, they’ll never stop looking. They might find out what we did. I’d lose the kids forever. And Jay has to pay, Libby.”

“I want him to pay, but not with life in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”

“We can’t prove the domestic violence, but we can prove this.”

Libby stood up. “This is going too far.”

“Come on, Libby. You work with domestic violence victims. These abusers don’t change. Jay will keep hurting Ridge. And you know what happens to boys who grow up with an abusive father.” Caroline slapped her hand on her bare leg. “You know! You talk about it all the time. Children of abusers often grow up and become abusers. The cycle continues.”

Libby sat back down. “Even if we helped you, how are you going to convince Ridge to go along with this? No, he shouldn’t have to grow up with an abusive father. But he shouldn’t have to conspire with his mom to frame his father either.”

“I’ll figure out Ridge. You talk to Vince and see what he—” Caroline stopped when the motion porch light outside flickered on. Libby noticed it, too, and looked back at Caroline, eyes wide.

“It was probably a cat. I didn’t hear a car door or—”

Before Caroline could finish, the doorknob turned. She jumped up, then froze, staring at the handle twisting like she was in the middle of some horror movie. Who else had a key but . . . ?

“Jay!” She screamed. “You scared me. What are you doing home?”

Jay looked at her and then at Libby, clutching her robe and trying to hide behind a throw pillow.

“I came home to take care of you. Libby told me you were sick. I figured I could take off a few days.” His face scrunched. “But you seem to be feeling just fine.”

Caroline swallowed, wondering how long he’d been standing out on the porch. How much he’d overheard.