Havoc (Hostiles Sequel) 3/3

Scapes

 It would be another devastating two nights before Makenna lay her eyes on Lachlan Fairfax again. Hope Lewasi had flown in and straight to Lovat, enveloping Makenna in hugs and enough affection to make up for the years in which they had fought on sight and at every instance. Alex Lewasi had headed straight to the police, lawyers in tow, making his claims for Lachlan's release known. Both her obgyn and her therapist had made emergency visists as if they had been anticipating exactly this situation. By the end of the first evening, Marcus, Zafira, Nadia, Mikulas and Eva had all taken up rooms in Lovat, circling Makenna nervously while Payton, none-the-wiser, had decided this was some kind of vacation he was going to fully enjoy. Sao had come in a few hours before Lachlan's release, finally providing someone Makenna could truly commiserate with about the news of Pluto's death. 

It wasn't so much that she didn't appreciate the support of her family in this. It was that each time they were apologetic, it meant they believed he was dead...that she would have to believe he was dead...and she didn't want to. Sao was... apoplectic. There were moments of quiet between them in which they had to face the fact that the world thought Dionysius Plutarch was dead...wanted them to think he was dead...but those were swiftly followed by a furious denial of it. He couldn't be dead! He just couldn't! 

The news was rife with theories of course, and unfortunately, insight. Thankfully Lovat was packed into densely guarded acreage with a river and meadow that wouldn't let any of the press in, except there had been some news helicopters circling the area once in a while. The public was thirsty to know why she did it. The news suspected that Lachlan was in custody because he had done it, for her. Every channel and every outlet had theories, tributes to his life, crime specialists spewing their views on women who murder... a publicly mourning Sophie Stanislavksy, investigations into every public record that mentioned Makenna and her family. It was sickening. She had shakily tried to get in touch with Seneca and Effie, to let them know she didn't do it and he couldn't be dead, but she couldn't quite get around to it. 

"They don't believe you did it. No one does." Sao assures her, having spoken to Seneca and Effie before making his trip here

Makenna wasn't a murderer and Pluto wasn't dead. This Sao knew more than he knew much else. Sure she was the one to gain the most from Pluto's death, but her gains weren't enough to warrant her killing him. Lachlan wouldn't have done it either, and as crazy as it sounded, Sao felt like Pluto would've asked him, appeared in a dream, tried to reach him somehow if he was thinking about or near death. What Sao was unsure of, and he hated to even think it, was that Dionysius was behind his own death somehow. He knew his best friend well enough to wonder if this was a desperate play to get Makenna back. The divorce papers had been especially catastrophic from what Seneca had said, and considering how unhinged Pluto already was. The fact that the body in the trunk of the car had no head therefore no Dental X-Rays could be taken, and the bones had been burnt to the point of DNA degradation making it hard for DNA analysis made all this a little too suspect. Sao hadn't said any of this to Makenna though, but he was stuck between either believing Dionysius had gone too far in his quest to get his wife back or had been beheaded and burnt in the trunk of his car. Neither of these were easy propositions to swallow. 

Lachlan had walked into the house every bit the calm collected zen guy that kissed her forehead every morning. Apart from the shadow of a beard, it would have been impossible to tell that he'd been in police custody for two nights. He walked past everyone and directly to her, her eyes tearing as he pulled her into his arms with a tender smile and an "It's OK." in the calm silk of his gentle voice, the sweet minty scent of his skin still there. All the tears she had been holding in suddenly came alive, choking her on sorrowful sobs while he kissed her forehead and assured her that he was fine, going to great lengths to show her just how fine he was and that there was nothing to feel guilty or sorry about. The news had been pretty clear that the police had taken him in because he refused to let them take her in. He was protecting her then just as he was protecting her now.