Not the most subtle threat. But if Retta came out fighting like that, she might have something to hide.

Gabby pushed a little. “For example, I don’t buy into the idea that Baines killed himself. The theory doesn’t fit with who he was or how he was in his final days.”

Retta stopped talking long enough to say hello to a couple and nicely shoo them away. “If, hypothetically, you disagreed with the police and the medical professionals and the official cause of death, you would be alone. Vulnerable.”

Vulnerable. Gabby hated that word as much as she hated the sensation and lack of control. “Truth is the most important thing, don’t you agree?”

“Closure.”

“What?”

Retta kept nodding to people who walked by, saying hello. “People need closure. Sometimes that means bending the truth.”

“That sounds like situational ethics.”

The whole conversation was surreal. They talked about menacing, awful things with happy smiles and warm waves.

Retta frowned. “When did we start talking about ethics?”

Yeah, that was the problem. For some reason, the judge didn’t appear to recognize the subject. “Right and wrong. When you should cross the line or not.”

“I fear I failed in teaching you, because there isn’t a line. There’s a vast gray space. What you’ll tolerate and what proactive measures you take determine where you land in that space.”

“I don’t know, Retta.” Gabby emphasized the other woman’s first name, making it clear for this discussion, at least, she was not a student being taught about some new theory. “That sounds pretty convenient. Like an excuse for not following the rules.”

“Who sets the rules?” Retta’s smile reappeared.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

Retta sighed. “No, but your answer brings us back to the idea of danger.”

Her family’s safety meant nothing to Retta. Gabby didn’t have to guess. Retta was making that clear.

“We all have secrets. The things we did, decisions we made, that changed us. We push them down, bury them deep, cover them with other truths and greater needs. Hope no one knows.” Retta shrugged. “But someone always knows, and that’s not a bad thing. It guarantees balance.”

“Sort of an ‘if you do X, then Y happens’ thing.”

Retta nodded. “Well put.”

“Is it? That sounds like one big, horrifying game to me.” Like sending a note to a kid, knowing it would turn her life upside down and push her to an awful place. Retta was a mom. How did she put other kids in danger and still sleep at night?

“It’s a good thing we’re only discussing a hypothetical.” Retta winked and walked away.

The conversation proved one horrible truth to Gabby. Like Jessa, regardless of the potential fallout and collateral damage to others, Retta slept just fine.

Chapter Fifty-Eight
Jessa