Page 17 of Letting Go
Savannah interrupts my observation of the Adonis in her living room and snaps me back to reality. “Vivian, these folks are with the FBI and are here to talk to you about Trent’s case.” I nod as the man extends his hand to me.
“Ma’am, I’m Special Agent Henry Walker Bennett with the Violent Crimes and Major Offenders Division of the FBI, and this is my colleague Special Agent Dr. Harlow Lane,” he says in a deep voice with a Southern accent that’s not from Tennessee but could be from Alabama or Texas.
I put my hand in his, intending to introduce myself but words escape me. As soon as my hand makes contact with his skin, a surprising warmth radiates from my fingertips up my entire arm. My eyes shoot up, colliding with his as they appear to slightly widen.Did he feel that sensation too? Am I imagining this right now? What in the world was that?I try to compose myself quickly, pulling my hand back, but before I reply, his colleague next to him speaks up.
“Hi Mrs. Stone, thank you so much for taking the time to meet with us,” she says in a warm and comforting tone, and I can’t help but notice her kind eyes. Dr. Lane looks too young to be a doctor but her youthful energy is bright and welcoming, much like her dark suit accented with a vivid fuchsia shirt under it. With her straight dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, she’s a few inches shorter than me, which isn’t saying much as I’m only five-foot-seven. I don’t detect a noticeable accent from her, although something about her makes me want to give her a hug.
“Right, of course. Yes, I’m Vivian Stone. How can I help you folks?” I accept Dr. Lane’s extended hand as I glance over and notice Special Agent Bennett flexing the hand I just held.
Savannah tilts her head slightly and looks between me and Special Agent Bennett. I don’t know what she sees but I know nothing gets by my sister. “Vivian, do you want me to stay or do you want to speak with them by yourself, honey?” She’s giving me an out if I don’t want to answer their questions alone—she knows me so well. There have been days where I have needed her physically next to me as I relived the worst days of my life.
“I think I’ll be okay, but I can call you back in here if I need to. Thanks, Sav,” I tell her as she squeezes my arm and nods at the Special Agents before walking out of the room. I also know my sister isn’t going to go far and will still hear everything we say in here.
“Would you like to have a seat, Mrs. Stone?” Special Agent Bennett extends his hand toward one of the taupe couches as he steps toward one of the light gray wingback chairs next to the fireplace. As he moves, I can smell his cologne, and it is dangerous how good it smells.
When was the last time I noticed how good a man smelled, let alone felt an attraction like this to a stranger? I don’t know that I’ve ever felt an immediate attraction like this before in my life.
“Yes, thank you.” I sit at the end of the couch, tucking one leg behind the other at the ankle, bracing myself for whatever brought them here today. He pulls a small notebook out of his suit coat breast pocket and removes an attached pen.
“What can I do for you, Special Agent Bennett and Dr. Lane?”
“Please call me Walker,” he says with a kind smile that reaches his eyes. Daddy always says you could judge someone’s character on whether they had an authentic smile. If someone has a fake smile, it’s likely not the only fake thing about them.
“Oh, my apologies, I thought you said your last name was Bennett,” I reply.
“No ma’am, you are correct. My full name is actually Henry Walker Bennett the third, which is a mouthful for anyone. My father claimed the nickname Hank well before my time, so I’ve always gone by my middle name,” he replies with a gentle shrug and slight smile.
“I suspect you’ve explained that a time or two, back home in … Texas? Or maybe Alabama?” I ask as I start to fidget with the edge of the pillow next to me.
“Back home would be Texas, ma’am.” He nods in agreement as his smile grows the smallest amount.
“And you can call me Harlow, Mrs. Stone,” Dr. Lane jumps in and I had almost forgotten she was in the room too. She exudes a calming presence; I’m not sure what type of doctor she is but I know she has a very peaceful presence and a Zen-like aura. If she works with Walker often, she’s probably used to women being dickmatized around him.
I nod at her request and take a deep breath before asking, “So what can I do for you? Is there an update in Trent’s case? I wasn’t aware the FBI had an interest in this.”
Special Agent Bennett takes the lead in answering, “There is a recent development, and we have worked closely with Detective Johnson and Detective Taylor in Chicago to get up to speed on Trent’s case. I’m in charge of a special task force, and Harlow here is one of the experts on our team.” She nods in agreement as he continues, “We believe there is a possibility that your husband’s case may be connected to other similar cases. My team and I are looking into any and all similarities between the cases. We have both read the notes from your previous interviews, so some of these details may feel repetitive for you but we’re just wondering if you could go through a few things for us.” Walker gives a sympathetic look, but his eyes are still taking in every detail.
“I’m not sure what else I can tell you both that I haven’t already told the police in Chicago, but of course I will help with whatever I can, Special Agent Bennett.” I haven’t decided yet if I want to be on a first name basis with him.
“What can you tell us about that day that may not have been in the initial reports, ma’am?” he asks.
I look out the window and take a deep breath before I begin, “Besides being the worst day of my life? Well, let’s see … I foolishly thought my husband was faithful to me up until the truth was revealed when he died. I thought my husband was operating at the hospital, but he was actually at a hotel with his mistress, who is a terrible person by the way. Trent was shot as he was leaving the hotel. I don’t know where he was going from the hotel, whether he would have gone back to the hospital or come home to celebrate our daughter’s birthday.” The fact that Trent was killed on Eloise’s birthday still feels exceptionally unfair to both Eloise and me.
I close my eyes before I continue, “I was unaware of his affair until the hospital gave me his personal effects after he died, and I saw incoming text messages from … her.” I am so sick of thinking of their affair and the deceit that had me fooled. I open my eyes to look back up at Special Agent Bennett and Dr. Lane, clearing my throat before proceeding, “Trent didn’t have any enemies that I knew of, we weren’t in financial trouble, his patients all loved him as far as I know, and besides his affair he didn’t have any illicit vices other than an occasional expensive whiskey, preferably neat,” I summarize for what feels like the twentieth time in the last few months.
Special Agent Bennett writes down a few notes as I talk, nodding occasionally, but doesn’t interrupt me. He lets me talk, even though I’m sure he has specific questions to ask me. Dr. Lane doesn’t take any notes; she just sits and listens to every word I say. I tell them about the anonymous poem I received a few weeks ago. He confirms they read it and saw the lab results, and how there were no fingerprints on the poem or envelope when the lab examined it. Like everything else related to Trent’s murder, I have far more questions than answers. Special Agent Bennett said he is having the FBI’s lab take a second look at it just in case, but there haven’t been any poems or letters with the other cases his task force is investigating thus far so they aren’t sure if it is related to the sniper cases or not.
“Like most housewives in our country, I’ve watched the popular crime shows and listened to the popular podcasts. I know the spouse is always an initial suspect so please allow me to be clear about this as you consider every angle in Trent’s murder. Our marriage wasn’t perfect, and was obviously way worse off than I thought, but I had nothing to do with his death. My feelings for Trent aside, I would never do that to our daughter. Whomever did this absolutely broke my daughter’s heart and I will never forgive them for the pain they have caused her.”
“And what about the pain they caused you? Is that why y’all moved back to Tennessee?” Special Agent Bennett asks.
“I’m a mama, Special Agent Bennett, I can handle pain. But my pain has been amplified by the discovery of the reality of my marriage. Pairing the revelation of his affair with the murder of my husband on the same day is why I had to move home.” I shake my head even though I’ve talked through this a thousand times, it’s still so insane that this is my life. “I need my family’s support as my baby and I try to heal from everything and navigate a new reality.” My voice breaks a little at the end as I think of Eloise’s nightmares. “If we have any chance of healing and being whole again, we need to feel safe and loved, and those things were stolen from us in Chicago.”
Dr. Lane speaks up, “I can’t imagine what you have been through, Mrs. Stone. I know you said Trent didn’t have any enemies, but do you have any idea of anyone that could have had a vendetta against him? It could be related to his career, or it could be something in his personal life. Even a wild idea or hunch, there is no theory too out there at this point,” she assures me.
“I’m not sure, but I’m sorry, what kind of doctor did you say you were?” My question comes out harsher than I intended but these people are asking for intimate details about our lives.
“That’s a fair question, Mrs. Stone,” she responds with a gracious and kind smile. “I’m a forensic psychiatrist and criminal profiler with the FBI. So that fancy title just means I bring a unique perspective when it comes to understanding criminals and why they do what they do, which also helps us try to stop them before another crime is committed,” Dr. Lane explains. “At least that’s the goal, anyway.”
