“The timing worked out. I’m hoping to be gone before anyone else comes in.”
“When are you leaving?”
Courtney shrugged. “After the baby comes.”
Now wasn’t that interesting? Where was she going to go with an infant? And no job to support them? “Do you have something lined up? A place to live for you and the baby?”
“I…uh…no.” She stood for a second, stretched her back and sat again.
“I see.” Isabelle tried to keep her voice level, but Courtney caught the surprise and eyed her.
“I’m giving the baby up. It’ll just be me I need to worry about, and I’ve managed so far.”
Oh, hell. Maybe Isabelle should learn to avoid passing judgment until she knew the whole story.
Courtney rubbed a hand over her belly. “She’ll be better off with someone else. I want her to have a good life.”
“You’re having a girl?”
“Yep. And I think she’ll be a feisty one too. She kicks all the time.”
A rare, wistful smile took over Courtney’s face and the sadness plunged into Isabelle’s heart. Courtney wanted to keep her baby.
“Courtney?”
The girl stared at a young couple passing. “What?”
“This is none of my business, and feel free to tell me to screw off, but are you sure you want to give up your baby?”
She twisted her lips and then said, “Sure, I’d like to keep her, but how can I do that? I don’t have a job, a place to live or health insurance.”
“What about your family?”
“I ran away when I was sixteen. I haven’t been back since. I call my mother once in a while, but I don’t expect them to help me. I won’t go back there anyway.”
“What about the baby’s father?”
“Took off three months ago because he didn’t—” Courtney made air quotes, “—sign on for this.” She laughed her derision. “Maybe he should have thought about that before he stuck his dick into me.” She slapped her hands over her face. “I’m sorry. It’s the hormones.”
Isabelle reached her hand across, but unsure how Courtney would respond to her touch, set it flat on the tabletop. “You don’t have to apologize to me about men. I don’t understand them myself.”
Except Peter. Him I understand. Most of the time.
“Anyway, I’m giving up the baby.” Her gaze shifted to the couple again. “I’m only twenty. I have a lot of time to have more children. I want my children to have a good life, with a mom and dad who love them. The best thing is to give the baby to someone who can give her that.”
A slice tore into Isabelle. Courtney’s plan sounded reasonable, but the look on her face as she rubbed her hand over her belly said something different. Regret. And the baby wasn’t even gone yet. What would this girl be like when her child was being raised by someone else?
Isabelle thought of Peter’s mother and her foundation. Maybe Lorraine could help? Maybe Isabelle could help. She could certainly line up a job. And she had contacts at the women’s shelter back home. Maybe they knew of an assistance program.
“Courtney, we don’t know each other well, but maybe I can help you find someplace else to live. I’m not trying to talk you out of giving up the baby, but this is a big decision and you don’t seem convinced.”
The frigid look Courtney leveled on her forced Isabelle to lean back. Wow. That pissed her off.
“Don’t you think I know it’s a big decision?”
“I didn’t mean to be patronizing.”
Courtney huffed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. The decision is made.”
What did that mean? “You have time yet.”
“No. I don’t.”
“The baby isn’t due for six weeks. You have time to line something up. I’ll help you. I would hate to see you make a decision like this and regret it later.”
The young couple left their table and walked to the parking lot. Courtney watched with a longing that Isabelle recognized. Loneliness. Don’t go there. This is a job. Leave the emotion out of it.
After a long minute, Courtney turned back. “You’re right. You don’t understand. I already regret the decision, but it’s too late.”
The last of Isabelle’s patience dropped away, but she made sure to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. “How can it be too late when the baby isn’t here yet? Even if you’ve talked to an adoption agency you can still change your mind. You’re the birth mother. You have rights.”
A moment, maybe two, passed in silence before a loud engine from a passing car caught Isabelle’s attention. She stayed focused on Courtney and another minute elapsed while Isabelle waited for the girl, so lost over this decision, to talk to her.
Courtney bit her bottom lip and turned to her with drippy eyes. “I can’t talk to you about this. I’m sorry.”
Isabelle exhaled. So close. With caution she reached for Courtney’s hand and the girl didn’t pull away. Progress. “I don’t mean to pressure you. This is your decision, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here. There are always choices.”
She fiddled with the crumpled napkins on the table then scooped them up. “We should get back.”
“Sure,” Isabelle said, not sure at all. “I have to talk to Seth when we get back anyway.”
“Lucky you,” Courtney said in that sarcastic way that meant unlucky you.
“You don’t like him much do you?” Isabelle asked when they got to the car.
Courtney slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. “He’s a controlling asshole, but that’s just my personal opinion.”
She liked Courtney. “You’re entitled.”
“Kendrick was at least nice to me.”
The sound of Kendrick’s name caught Isabelle off-guard and she stiffened. “Kendrick wasn’t my favorite person.”
“I figured that out. How come?”
A car raced by and honked and Isabelle yelped as she rolled to a stop at the exit. Getting a pregnant woman killed wasn’t on the to-do list for the day either.
The distractions with this assignment were plentiful, and there always seemed to be a tough choice to make. Courtney wanted to know something Isabelle had spent a lifetime hiding. She could make something up and risk getting caught in the lie, thereby losing any chance of this girl trusting her. Or she could admit it. Which she’d only done a handful of times, under specific conditions.
Courtney waited, her features frozen in a perpetual I-don’t-give-a-damn mask. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Do it. She had to gain Courtney’s trust and if being truthful did that, it would be worth the risk. A burst of air exploded within her, willing her forward. “He sexually abused me when I was a kid.”
“Oh, ouch,” Courtney said. “Rat bastard.”
Isabelle choked a laugh. Nothing in Sampson’s file indicated sexual abuse, but Courtney understood betrayal. Her simple reaction—maybe the lack of judgment or the honesty in which it was delivered—eased a smile from Isabelle. Twice now, the first time with Peter, she’d admitted her abuse to a near stranger, and shame didn’t sit on her like a rotted carcass.
Odd, she thought, the most unlikely people seemed to identify with her.
“Thank you, Courtney.”
Courtney tilted her mouth into a smirk. “For what? I didn’t kill him.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Isabelle slipped out the front door of the compound with her prepaid cell phone in hand. The sticky night air surrounded her and moisture beaded along her spine as she stepped away from the porch.
She needed to get away from the house and its lunatic inhabitants for a few minutes. The whole thing was just damned weird. Seth couldn’t stop staring at the miracle boobs, which, of course, was the point, but Isabelle still wanted to pop him. Throw in Mary Beth giving her the constant hairy eyeball, and Isabelle had a brain-frying headache. The three ibuprofens she’d slammed didn’t forestall the pounding behind her eyes, and she pressed her thumb and middle finger into
them trying to gouge the pain away. No luck.
What was Mary Beth’s problem anyway? Just because Seth found another woman attractive? Mary Beth could have him. The bigger, nagging issue though, was whether Mary Beth’s dislike had something to do with her very pregnant fifteen-year-old daughter. Isabelle had spied Rebecca and Seth talking quietly on several occasions and it led her to wonder if Seth had fathered Rebecca’s unborn child.
Sick, sick, sick. Maybe Kendrick and Seth were both sexual terrorists. If so, he’d better back the hell up because she’d do whatever it took to put him in jail.
Even if it meant dealing with Mary Beth.
Isabelle stopped in the middle of the lawn and glanced at her phone—anyone inside the house would think she was searching for a good signal—and kept walking as she dialed Peter’s number.
“I need to see you,” she said when he answered. Where this sudden neediness came from she had no idea, but the richness of his voice only intensified it.
Normally, when the angst overtook her, she’d kick the hell out of her heavy bag. She would wind up paralyzed with fatigue, but the negative energy would be long gone.
No heavy bag here. No salty ocean air. Just humidity and the stench of something vile.
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.
“I think Nicole was staying here. Courtney told me.” Isabelle stopped, turned toward the house in case anyone came out. Even if they did, from this distance they wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Just like that? She offered it up?”
“Courtney doesn’t offer anything up. She measures every syllable. When we were having ice cream she mentioned she used to go there with her friend. I asked leading questions. I am a defense lawyer you know.”
That defense lawyer line wasn’t necessary. The man was asking a question and she jumped on him like a commuter chasing a train. “I’m sorry, Peter.”
“Forget it. Why the hell would Nicole be living there? I thought she was a volunteer.”
“That’s what Sampson indicated.”
“He may have intentionally kept it from you,” Peter said. “Or maybe he didn’t know. I checked her mother out and she’s loaded. Jessup kind of loaded.”
“I don’t know about any of that. All Courtney said was that her friend had moved out.” She hesitated. Jammed her fingers into her eyes again as the pain roared back. “I told her about Kendrick abusing me.”
“You did?”
“I had to. I need her to trust me. I need someone in this miserable house to trust me.”
“That had to be hard for you.”
Nearly gave me a heart attack. “It’ll be worth it. Plus, I think I like Courtney.”
The soft grass tickled Isabelle’s flip-flop-clad toes, and her legs wilted until she dropped spread eagle onto the grass.
Whacko-whacko-whacko. That’s what the resident’s would think when they saw her lying on the grass with only the porch light throwing shadows across the darkened lawn.
“Don’t get attached, Izzy. This is a temporary gig.”
She nodded her understanding even if he couldn’t see it. The queen of self-protection found herself sharing ugly details of her life with a girl she’d known only a few days. But still, she couldn’t deny the kindred spirit they seemed to share. “I’ll be careful.”
“You’re doing great, babe. Hang in there.”
When her chest seized, she smacked at it and forced a breath because—holy cow—she loved the sound of Peter praising her. Since when did she need a man for that? How did she let this man come to mean so much to her?
Tears moistened her eyes. No. No crying. It’s just the stress. No. Crying!
But Kendrick’s house, the sealed windows, double key locks, Seth, Mary Beth, a girl missing. It was all too much for someone lacking any form of emotional stability.
“Izzy? Are you all right?”
“No. I’ve never been all right though, so I don’t know what this is. I hate it.”
Weakness.
After Kendrick, she’d never allowed herself to be vulnerable. She had strengthened the foundation, shored up the walls and, for years, she’d been fine. Now Peter Jessup and Courtney Masterson understood her, and who were these people? She barely knew them and yet she shared the horror of her childhood with them. Left herself exposed to their derision. Their judgment. What had she been thinking?
“Izzy, can you get away from there for a while? I’ll meet you.”
Yes. She didn’t have her heavy bag, but Peter could help. He’d open his arms to her and she’d snuggle into him, breathe in his strength, and it would quiet the havoc in her mind.
Maybe she’d fuck him. Get rid of this swirling panic and take control again. She’d spent half her life interchanging sex with power. If she hadn’t let the weakness take over, she would have realized she could fix this.
“I need you inside me,” she said.
“Helloooooo, Creepy Izzy.” You pain in my ass. “When did she show up?”
Peter stood on the balcony of the motel staring at the illuminated parking lot and the adjacent pool with its slimy green water. Billy had just flipped for another lap. Poor bastard must be desperate for something to do to swim in that muck. Although, they’d taken dips in a lot worse.
With Billy driving him batshit and Izzy going Section 8, he wondered who in this twisted threesome would not have to be committed.
Shagging Izzy would never be difficult, particularly after they’d experienced it last night—a few times—but this had nothing to do with sex. This was her trying to manipulate a situation she couldn’t get comfortable with.
He gripped the phone tighter. “You’re dealing with a lot. If Creepy Izzy helps, use her, but we’re not bringing sex into it. Sex between us will never be about control.”
A sniffle came from the other end of the phone line. “Are you crying?” he asked.
“I think so,” she said, and he burst out laughing.
Only Izzy.
“Honey, it’s a yes or no thing. You’re either crying or you’re not.”
She laughed then too, but it was a weird sort of snot-filled laugh.
“Peter, I’m freaking out. I don’t know if I can do this. It’s bringing up too much baggage. Being here, talking about Kendrick. It makes me feel powerless. Like I’m that vulnerable girl again. I despise that.”
Leaning over the rail, he said, “Did you ever hear Vic say ‘pain is weakness leaving the body’?”
“No.”
“That’s what you’re experiencing. Your compartments are imploding and everything is running together. It’s similar to what you told me that night at the cottage. You have to let yourself feel it before you can get past it.”
“But I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect to miss having you with me. Telling Courtney about the abuse intensified it.”
She missed him. Damn, if that didn’t make him smile. It sucked that she considered it a bad thing, but he’d take it. “I’ll be there the day after tomorrow. Tell Seth the Jessup Foundation got his paperwork, but that my mother doesn’t do the visits. She’s sending me instead. We’ll do this together.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
“For now, you had a major breakthrough with Courtney telling you about Nicole.”
“I think she meant Nicole. She never said a name.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s a start. I’ll call Sampson and let him know. You’re going to bring this girl home Izzy. Remember that.”
A car drove by, its rotted muffler drawing his attention.
“Peter?”
“Yep?”
“I think I love you.”
A soaring, screaming ball of relief settled him. For weeks now he’d been captivated by her. Add being frustrated beyond belief and worry over her current situation and it equaled a dangerous combination.
One that took him ten years to find.
“I think I love you too. It’s good.” But I want you out of that place.
I
zzy sighed. “I know.”
“It scares the hell out of you. I can deal with that. I’m not going anywhere. You need to not think so much about it though. You start to freak out when you think too much and hello, Creepy Izzy.”
“You’re right. I trust you. I hope you know that.”
That alone couldn’t be easy for someone like her. Someone who had been betrayed in the most evil way by someone she should have been safe with. “We’re good, babe.”
For a few seconds the only sound was Billy flipping for another lap. Christ, he’d be out there all night.
“By the way,” Peter said, “your phone, the one you left here, rang a few times. Do you want me to check it?”
“Yes. It might be something important. Or my uncle is threatening to fire me again.”
“Screw your uncle,” Peter said, wanting to rip the son of a bitch’s heart out. He walked into the motel room, retrieved the phone from the top drawer of the dresser and, after retrieving the missed calls, read the numbers to her.
“Yep,” she said. “It’s my office. And my father.”
“Call them from a pay phone tomorrow,” Peter said. “Don’t use the cell I gave you.”
If Seth checked her phone he’d have her father’s phone number. The office he didn’t so much care about because Seth knew where she worked, but having Izzy’s personal contacts out there would not be copacetic.
“Speaking of tomorrow,” she said. “Seth has a business lunch about twenty miles from here. Cannonsville, I think he said. He invited me to ride along so I could shop while he’s at lunch. Apparently they have some touristy stores there. The car ride would be an opportunity to talk to him.”
Peter fisted his hand and clamped his eyes shut. As much as he wanted to tell her to stay away from the guy, he knew this was why she was there. “Just stay alert.”
“I will.”
“Who’s the lunch with?”
“I don’t know.”
Hmmm. Peter sat at the desk, opened his laptop. “Cannonsville?”
“Yes.”
He went to MapQuest and got a visual. “I want to know who he’s lunching with. What time are you going?”
“We’re leaving at eleven-thirty.”
A Just Deception Page 21
