Betrayed - Alternate Ending

by Wodke Hawkinson

  After their engagement and during the first year of marriage, Clark had spent every dinner hour with her and every weekend. Then, over the next few years, he had begun to stay later at work, and their dinners together dropped to two or three times a week. Before long, he was working most weekends. Also, in the early days of their marriage, they had talked. They talked about their childhoods and the time that had transpired between then and when they met. Thinking back, Brook realized these talks centered more on Clark’s life, than her own. But, even at that, conversation had dwindled away to merely perfunctory exchanges. Adequate, but unsatisfying.

  Then she lost Lacey, the precious baby she had longed so to hold, to nurture through childhood, and shape into a healthy, happy adult. When that dream was ripped away, along with the chance to ever have another baby, Brook had been crushed. But Clark hadn’t really been affected. Oh, he had been sad at the time, but he quickly forgot the whole incident and carried on as before. No! Not as before. Now that she really thought about it, Clark had withdrawn further from her after the loss, spending more time at work and far less with her. Possibly, she reflected, this was her fault. She, herself, hadn’t been the same afterwards.

  As the sheriff pulled onto the interstate, Brook looked up at the mountains with their craggy sides and snowy tops.

  "Doing alright back there?" the deputy asked.

  "Yes, I'm fine," Brook said. "Just reflecting."

  The deputy turned back to the sheriff and they resumed their conversation. Brook closed her eyes again and sank back into her memories.

  Clark hadn’t understood why Brook wanted a child so much. Several years after losing the baby, Brook had broached the subject of adoption. Clark had looked at her with incredulity. “I suppose we could,” he had said, flatly. “But it’s not like it would be ours.”

  Brook had insisted that any baby they raised would be theirs completely.

  Then, Clark had dropped the bombshell. “You do what you want, but it won’t be my child. It won’t have Parrish blood.”

  From that point, Brook realized, life had changed around their house. They made love, but not frequently. Their goodbye kisses that used to promise things to come had now become obligatory, little more than a duty. She now knew that while she had still loved Clark, she hadn’t really been in love with him for a long time.

  Then there were the last several months. What would Clark’s reaction be to her sudden return home? Would he understand how she had suffered? Clark never had been strong on empathy. How would he respond when he heard about the rapes? Would he see her as dirty, damaged goods, unworthy of his attentions? And, more to the point, how could she hide the fact from Clark that she had been with Lance, had lain, willingly, with another man? Brook ran scenarios through her head as the car traveled on.

  As the trip neared an end, she fingered the beautiful bracelet that wrapped her wrist in a symbol of Lance’s love. She felt so alone right now.

  Brook was astounded by the range of emotions that poured over her: sadness over leaving Lance, happiness to be returning home to her family, and confusion over her feelings for Clark.

  By the time she stepped from the car in Denver, her mood was so low she found it a struggle to even breathe. Walking toward the Denver police station, she straightened her posture and set her resolve. The next few hours would not be easy ones.

  Chapter 51

  Lance went directly back to the cabin after watching Brook disappear from his life. He parked in his usual spot, haphazardly covered his truck, and walked with determination up the mountain. He would get on with his life; he’d go back to the time before he had found Brook in the forest. It wouldn't be easy; in fact, it might even be impossible. Brooklyn Cheyenne Parrish had made an indelible mark on him. He would never forget her.

  At home, Lance set about doing his chores. He let Gilbert out and mucked her pen. She seemed to sense his dark mood and didn’t frisk about as usual. Holding a tight lid on his feelings, Lance kept moving, handling one chore after another. He fed the chickens and the few ducks that remained, and chopped more wood, since the nights were still chilly. Not wishing to spend time inside, where everything reminded him of Brook, he found one project after another that required his attention outside. Finally, exhausted, he entered his home, made a light supper, and sat down to read, but found his thoughts wandering.

  Chapter 52

  Brook was escorted up the steps with no idea the kind of stir she was about to cause. Just outside the doors, the flash of a camera startled her. A group of reporters began throwing questions at her.

  "Mrs. Parrish, where have you been all this time?"

  More flashes.

  "Brook, Brook! Can you identify the men who took you?"

  "What'd your husband say when he heard you're alive?"

  Sheriff Hawk pushed Brook behind him and held up a beefy hand. "Back off, all of you."

  Brook's legs grew shaky, and she felt the female deputy's hand on her elbow. "Come on, Mrs. Parrish."

  Hawk held the reporters at bay while the deputy guided Brook through the doors. They approached the window, and the deputy asked for Detective Conroy. She then glanced out the glass front of the building to watch as Sheriff Hawk threw his weight around. A tiny smile curled her lips, and Brook realized a deep affection existed between the sheriff and his deputy. She'd been so lost in thought on the trip, she hadn't noticed.

  "Leonard won't let them get to you. He's a good man." She patted Brook's arm. "Stubborn, but good."

  In a flurry of activity, a side door opened and several people hurried toward Brook. A tall woman in a dark suit extended her hand as the others, some in uniform, stood back.

  “I’m Detective Randi Conroy,” she said. “You’re Brooklyn Parrish?”

  “Yes, I am.” Brook found the detective’s handshake comforting somehow, warmer than she expected. Brook felt immediately at ease with her.

  Leonard extricated himself from the reporters outside and pushed through the door. The reporters glared at him through the glass. Whatever he'd said to them had not left them happy, but it did keep them rooted to the spot. He strode over to the group and nodded at Detective Conroy.

  "Sheriff Hawk?" she asked. "Thanks for making the transport."

  "Happy to do it," he replied. He turned to Brook. "You're in good hands here, Mrs. Parrish." He patted her shoulder somewhat awkwardly. "We're gonna take off now." He handed a thin file to the detective.

  Remembering her manners, Brook looked up at the sheriff. "Thank you for everything, Sheriff. I appreciate it."

  "No problem." He gave her a small salute before leaving with his deputy.

  “Come with me, please, Mrs. Parrish.” Detective Conroy led Brook through the door into the inner sanctum, down a hallway, and into a conference room. The detective nodded at the other people who waited by the door. “Get Marco down here. Bring me the Parrish file. And shut the door.”

  Once they were alone in the room, the detective simply stared at Brook for a long time.

  “Well,” she finally said, her face impassive. “I guess the first question should be; where have you been?”

  “It’s a long story, Detective,” Brook began.

  “I bet it is. And I can’t wait to hear it. Sheriff Hawk was a bit sketchy on the details,” Detective Conroy said. “You have no idea how happy it makes me when a missing person turns up alive and well. But, on the other hand, I'm going to need some answers." She paused, staring at Brook with frank interest. "How about something to drink? Coke okay?” At Brook’s nod, she picked up the phone and asked someone to bring a couple of drinks.

  The door opened and a woman brought in two cans of soda and set them on the table, staring at Brook with unabashed curiosity. From under her arm, she pulled a file, which she placed into Randi’s outstretched hand. Still ogling Brook, she backed out of the conference room and closed the door behind her.

  “Okay, I’m all ears,” Randi said as she handed Brook a can of cola and took one
herself.

  They were interrupted by the ringing of the phone on the table. Randi picked it up, listened for a moment, and then hung up.

  “My partner, Marco, is on his way in. It’ll be a little while. You’re going to get tired of telling your story before it’s all said and done. But, this first time through, just give me the basics, okay?”

  Brook placed her canvas bag on the table. Randi gave it a glance, but said nothing. Brook then pulled out her drawings and spread them on the surface. “These people abducted me and held me captive.”

  As Brook told her tale, Randi picked up the sketches and looked them over. She raised her eyebrows when she reached the one of Gina but made no comment.

  Brook wanted to protect Lance. When she reached his part of the story, she skirted around the identity of her rescuer. She would only say she had found safety, and had come in as soon as the weather permitted her return.

  Randi looked skeptical. "I don't understand. Is there some reason you're withholding his name?"

  "Yes." Brook swallowed hard. "He's a very private man. None of this was his fault. He was pulled into it by being a Good Samaritan, nothing else. I just want him left alone."

  Randi gazed at Brook thoughtfully for a few seconds. "We'll come back to that later, then."

  Brook massaged her forehead. This detective was not the sort to give up, and it made Brook uneasy.

  “You know, your husband was frantic when you disappeared. He was convinced early on that you had met with foul play. I wasn’t so sure. At least not until this young woman,” Randi tapped the sketch of Gina, “showed up on an ATM camera trying to use your credit card.”

  “She did? Did you catch her?” Brook exclaimed.

  “No, but we’re still looking.” She paused a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Your husband had no idea where you’d gone so he wasn’t much help at all. In fact, he was so upset we thought we might have to hospitalize him.”

  He didn’t know where I’d gone? Brook felt a cold knowledge settle on her. “What did he say exactly? I mean, when he contacted you?”

  Randi gave her an odd look. “Why?"

  "I just need to know. He's not the best in an emergency." Brook blithely covered her reaction.

  "You're right. He's not." Randi nodded. "He said you had probably gone shopping but he had no idea where. We didn’t know where to start looking. He was so rattled he couldn't even remember which car you were driving at first. I’m telling you, the man was a basket case.”

  Randi noticed Brook’s rigid posture and frozen expression, but before she could question her, the phone rang again, and she took the call. When she hung up, she turned her gaze to Brook once more.

  “Now, I’m sorry to make you start all over, but we need to record this. Let me get things set up and bring Marco up to speed. I promise we’ll try not to keep you too long.” The detective's eyes were sympathetic, but calculating.

  Randi left Brook alone in the room. Inside, Brook’s mind was flipping switches and making connections, veering from disbelief to rage and back to disbelief again. Finally, shock descended and held her in its numbing grasp.

  Chapter 53

  Clark loosened his tie as he hurried past the secretary, headed for his office.

  "Mr. Parrish," she called after him. "Your wife called."

  Clark stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly. "What? What did you say?"

  Kim Long blinked innocently. She was a recent hire from out of state. "Uh, your wife called."

  "My wife." Clark approached her desk. "What did she say?"

  "Nothing. Just said to tell you she called."

  Clark turned on his heel and stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. He tossed his briefcase on the credenza and paced the floor a few times.

  He snatched the phone from his desk and buzzed the secretary. "Ms. Long, are you aware my wife disappeared months ago?"

  "No, sir," Kim said with a gasp.

  He disconnected and immediately dialed Brook's cell phone. The same recording he'd been getting for months, advised him Brook's voice mailbox was full. He laid the receiver gently in its cradle.

  Running his hands through his hair, Clark walked to the window as if sleepwalking and looked down on the city. Slipping a trembling hand beneath his tie, he pressed on his chest. Hoarse sobs tore from his throat.

  Chapter 54

  Randi returned with a slender young detective in tow, his dark hair neatly parted and combed, and his tanned face wearing a serious expression.

  “This is Marco Vicente, my partner,” Randi said. “Marco, meet Brook Parrish.”

  They shook hands and Brook saw compassion in his brown eyes. Marco removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. As he sat, he loosened his tie.

  Another officer entered with a video camera and set it up on a tripod while Marco explained the process to Brook.

  “Mrs. Parrish, we want to videotape your statement for the record and get as much information from you as possible so we don’t have to drag you through this too many times. I know it’s difficult, but try to relax and just answer the questions as best you can.”

  Brook nodded.

  Somehow, she made it through the next few hours. Toward the end of the interview, the phone rang again.

  "I asked not to be disturbed." Randi listened for a few minutes. "We're almost done. Yes. Have him wait."

  She disconnected and turned to Brook. "Your husband's here."

  Brook rose to her feet so quickly she knocked the chair over. "Where is he?"

  "He's waiting outside. Please sit back down, Mrs. Parrish. We're just about finished." Randi gave Marco a significant look.

  Marco reached down, righted the chair, and held it for Brook. She lowered herself to the edge of the seat, and reached automatically for the bracelet on her wrist.

  Marco and Randi each posed a few more questions, and then it was over.

  As Marco gathered up the video equipment, Randi leaned out the door and called to someone. "Bring Mr. Parrish in here, please."

  Brook began to shake all over. Randi gave her a sympathetic smile that did little to hide the shrewd interest in her eyes. “Before your husband comes in, is there anything else you want to tell me?"

  Brook shook her head. On the chair beside hers were photocopies of the sketches, printouts of the photos Lance had taken, and her journal writings. Though a part of her dreaded the reunion, she needed to see Clark. She needed her suspicions allayed. Until she had answers directly from Clark, she wasn’t willing to tell the police that Clark had deceived them. She could still give him the benefit of the doubt. She hoped to find he had a good reason for misleading the authorities and effectively sabotaging the search. But she didn’t really believe he would.

  Randi cleared her throat, interrupting Brook's thoughts. "I know you’ve been through a horrible ordeal, and I assure you I will do everything in my power to track these monsters down. What you need to do now is go home with your husband. Start putting your life back together.”

  The door opened and an officer led Clark into the room. Brook stood.

  In that awkward first moment, Brook noticed how much Clark had aged. They stared at each other as if under a spell.

  Then, Clark rushed to Brook and took her in his arms. He wept. Tears welled up in her eyes also, but a part of her stayed distant. His touch, familiar as it was, seemed strange to her now. She let him hold her but gave little in return. He didn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm, but Detective Conroy took note.

  "We'll step out and give you folks some privacy." Randi gestured to Marco. They walked outside and closed the door behind them.

  Clark pushed Brook away and held her at arm's length, studying her. His eyes were moist. “Oh god, Brook, where were you? Where have you been all this time?” Clark pulled her close to him again. His shoulders heaved several times.

  "Not here, Clark. We'll talk when we get home." Brook patted his back awkwardly and then moved
out of his embrace. She nervously gathered her things. Clark led her from the room with an arm around her shoulders.

  Detective Conroy stepped in front of them as they reached the lobby. "A word of advice." She put a hand on Clark's arm and looked from his face to Brook's. "Go easy. It doesn't all have to be resolved in a day."

  Clark nodded and Randi moved aside. She watched as they stepped through the doors.

  Reporters once again gathered around Brook. Clark tried to shelter her with his body as he escorted her to the car. He opened the door for her and turned to confront the media. With cold eyes, he waited until he had their complete attention. Microphones extended toward his face.

  "My wife will give you a statement when she's damn good and ready. Until then, stay away from her or I'll slap a lawsuit on you that'll have you and your publishers living in cardboard boxes under the Grand Street Bridge. And that's if you have a good lawyer."

  He closed the door gently and strolled to the other side of the car, shouldering a persistent reporter out of the way before sliding behind the wheel. Brook settled into the seat with a weary sigh. The meeting with Sheriff Hawk, the long drive to Denver, the hours at the police station reliving the details of her abduction and captivity, and the suspicion churning in her mind had turned her nerves raw. And, she missed Lance. She shot a Clark a guilty glance, watching his hands on the wheel as he pulled into traffic. At the heart of it all, there was the yearning for her lover. A yearning she had no right to feel. It had been a horrible day. And it wasn’t over yet.

  As soon as they were on the freeway, Clark started rapid-firing questions at Brook. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you let me know where you were? Do you know how worried I’ve been?” He probably would have continued in this manner if Brook hadn’t interrupted.