For just that second he wasn’t a man trying to assimilate facts about his wife that just wouldn’t come together. His head dropped to the back of the couch.
“I read books, Bennet,” Chantel said, with a small smirk, before growing serious once again. “Sandra, the dispatcher, put me in touch with a detective who she thought might be able to help me. I’m waiting to hear from her.”
He stared at the ceiling, looking for the energy he needed to get up in the morning, get his son out of bed, and tell Caleb, when he asked, as he inevitably would, that his mother wasn’t home yet. How long would it be before Caleb quit asking?
Chantel settled back, as well. It was late. It had been a long six days.
“Does this detective know you’re calling for personal reasons?”
“Yes.” She turned her head just as he turned his and they were facing each other, lying back against the couch.
Max sat up. “I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me at this point, but I know without a doubt that Steve is behind all of this,” he said, his thoughts finding clarity all on their own. “I can’t explain it to you. I can’t tell you why Meri is still in town, or why she didn’t ask for help. I can’t tell you why she didn’t come to me before she bolted. But I am absolutely certain that her ex-husband is behind it all. Find him and we’ll find our answers.”
“And what if those answers turn out to include the fact that Meredith no longer wants to be married to you?”
The question was a hard one. Asked in the gentlest way.
“What if she really can’t stand the stress of worrying about Caleb every day?”
He knew better, but he didn’t expect Chantel to believe that.
“Women who are abused...they’ve experienced something that none of the rest of us will ever understand, Max. The aftermath, a lot of times it’s worse than the actual beatings. Paranoia is a very real, very painful consequence. Its real power comes from the fact that, for abuse victims, it’s based in truth. In having experienced the horror which everyone fears most—being betrayed in the most heinous ways by the one person in the world you thought you could trust.”
Meri had said things like that before. But her words had been less concise, mixed with example and emotion and tears, all things he’d had to contend with at the same time she was delivering her message. He’d needed to comfort as well as understand.
Hearing those same words from Chantel—they took on new meaning. Frightening meaning. And then something else occurred to him.
“How do you know this?” Meri had told him that one in four women suffer from domestic violence. He’d found the statistic staggering. And kind of hard to believe.
He’d carefully watched the mothers coming into his exam rooms with their children. If he saw eight kids a day that meant eight mothers. Statistically, two of every eight had been or were currently being abused.
“The Las Sendas P.D. required every one of us to take a course on domestic violence.”
“The women you mean?”
“No, I mean all of us. Every single officer on the force, no matter how junior, has had training to recognize and deal with potential DV-related situations. Every one of us has to respond to a DV call at some point.”
It made a sickening kind of sense.
“I’m just saying, Max....” Chantel was closer to him, leaning toward him. “It’s possible that Meri knew her paranoia was out of hand, getting the better of her. It’s possible that she knew she couldn’t control it anymore and saw that it was already starting to have an effect on Caleb. The way you describe her, as devoted as she was and as committed to serving others...I just think you need to consider that she’s done exactly what she told you in the note. She’s loving you and Caleb the best way she knows how. By removing herself from your home before Caleb is infected with her paranoia.”
He didn’t want to consider anything of the kind.
He was a doctor; he understood that mental issues were medical issues. He knew that they could be treated, and that sometimes treatments failed.
But he also knew Meri. She talked to him about her fears. About Steve’s ability to hunt her down. His tenacity and patience with undercover work. But she’d been through counseling and knew how to control her fear.
“If she’d come to you, would you have let her go?” Chantel’s voice was too close now. Softly working its way in when he just wanted to be alone with Meri.
“Or would you have promised to support her, tend to her, help her back into counseling, stand by her....”
“Of course I would have supported her, stood by her, tended to her, helped her in any way I could.” It’s what a spouse did. Which was why marriage vows said “for better or worse” and “in sickness and in health” and...
“Exactly. She’d have known that. So maybe she’d reached a place where she knew that none of the above was going to work anymore. She knew what you did not, that the treatments didn’t work....”
No. He was not going to listen to this. Not now. Not ever.
He stood up. “Steve’s behind this, Chantel,” he said, while doubts pressed in on him from all sides. “I won’t turn my back on her. I won’t give up. I’m going to find this fiend. Somehow. Some way. Either with you or without you.”
He hoped to God it would be with her. He didn’t know if he could do it on his own.
“I understand.” She stood, too, toe-to-toe with him, not backing down. “I just need you to know that when we find him, it might not be what you think.”
The panic eating up his insides let go. “Fair enough.”
“Okay.” Turning, she reached down to the floor, slinging her bag up over shoulder.
“So—” just to be clear “—you’re still in?”
“Of course. I was never out. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Without another word, she turned and made her way down the hall. Max was still standing in the living room, right as she’d left him, when the door to the guest bedroom closed quietly behind her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JENNA TOSSED AND turned most of Tuesday night. She could handle whatever was handed to her. She knew how to put one foot in front of the other, how to get up in the morning and start off the day with the belief that she could make it a good one. She knew how to take things one moment at a time, to find even the smallest positive if that’s what it took to get through.
She just couldn’t figure out how to fall asleep.
Lila had asked her if she wanted to stay and talk. And Jenna knew the woman had been asking her to do so. She’d told her the same thing she’d told the policeman. She didn’t need anything. She was fine.
One of her bungalow mates got up just after three. Latoya, she figured. The older woman couldn’t make it through the night without a trip to the bathroom. She’d suffered bladder damage the last time her husband knocked her to the ground and kicked her.
Jenna heard movement. Waited for the swish of water going through the pipes as the toilet flushed. She counted sheep and thought about making oatmeal for Carly and Latoya in the morning. They both needed to eat more. And both had early-morning sessions at the main building. Latoya was starting a job as a sales clerk in the TLS gift shop, Pretty Dreams.
And Carly...she had her first physical therapy session tomorrow morning, to help her regain full use of her left shoulder, which her boyfriend had damaged by shattering her rotator cuff.
Yes, she’d make oatmeal. And at ten she was meeting her little client who was stuttering. It would be good to work.
She’d also met a woman the day before who wanted to lose her heavy South American accent with hopes of becoming as Americanized as she could. Romar had come to the States as a mail-order bride and loved the country, but had become a victim to the man who’d purchased her. Fighting for her freedom was
made harder by her inability to make herself understood. Because helping people lose accents was part of the work of a speech pathologist, Jenna was going to work with her every day for as long as the two of them were residents of The Lemonade Stand. She’d made it clear there were no promises after that.
She lay in bed, making mental lists. And when each thought ended, she found herself right back where she’d started. Face-to-face with an image of the husband she’d left behind.
At four, when darkness and panic finally won the battle she’d been having with them, when she started to shake and her stomach had knotted to the point of hurting, she gave up trying to sleep. Throwing the covers back, she rolled out of bed and took a seat at the antique desk she liked so much.
The little things. They would see her through. She just had to focus. The antique-white color of the desk was nice. It reminded her of a bedroom set she’d once seen in a magazine. She’d been about ten and sitting with her mother waiting in some office. She’d long since forgotten what they were waiting for. But she remembered the magazine, and showing her mother the picture.
She’d come home from school a month later to find a similar set furnishing her bedroom. Complete with a canopy bed.
Jenna pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them. And when the tears threatened to come anyway, she knelt at the side of her bed, pulled out the diary she hid there every night, and, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, she began to write.
* * *
DAY SEVEN.
Tonight I gave my husband away. I cannot pretend otherwise.
Officer Wayne Stanton. It’s a name I will never forget. At first I feared him, as I fear most people in uniform. The uniform, after all, is a shield that protects those who wear it from being accountable.
But that’s old news.
Officer Wayne Stanton. As soon as he told me that he was there on a mission for Las Sendas P.D. Officer Chantel Harris, I knew what I’d done. I sent Max straight back to Jill’s best friend. The woman was in love with him, even if he wasn’t aware of that.
I’ve never even met her, and I knew she loved him. He told me some of the things she’d said, but I also saw the cards she sent. Every Christmas. When Caleb was born. Anytime anything special happened in our lives.
They were addressed to both of us but the messages had been highly personal. And clearly only for Max.
He’d said it was because she didn’t know me yet.
But he never offered to introduce us.
And now I’ve given him reason to call her. To seek out her help.
Hands trembling, Jenna glanced over what she’d written, hardly able to read the scribbled words. And still she felt the pain of them.
She’d had to let go before. So many times. Why did it have to hurt so badly this time?
The dark of the night belongs here, in the only place left where I can truly be myself. These pages.
Max hasn’t accepted that I left him. I really thought that the keys in the cup holder would do it.
She had to pause again as tears blurred her vision. She’d cried when she’d left those keys there, knowing that by doing so she was stabbing Max in the heart.
But a little stab now was so much better than the grief he’d feel if Caleb was hurt. Better than loving Meri for another few years, making more memories and maybe even another baby, and then losing her. She knew that. Knew that she was being kindest in the long run. Knew that she had no other choice. And still...
Sometimes I wonder when I will reach the point that it’s all more than I can bear. When is enough, enough?
No. She couldn’t go down the road to nowhere. She’d traveled it for too long. And wasn’t going back.
She wouldn’t give Steve that satisfaction. And she wouldn’t do it to herself, either. I have to let Max know that I’m okay. And that I honestly and truly want to leave him so he’ll tell Chantel to stop looking for me. I can’t have them finding Steve. They’ll never get him. They’ll only piss him off. Make him more inclined to hurt them. Or Caleb. They’re taking away the time I need to plan. Forcing me to hurry.
I have to convince him to back off.
I convinced Officer Wayne Stanton tonight. I convinced Renee and Yvonne, too. And now I have to find a way to convince the dear sweet man that I love more than life that I don’t want a life with him.
Please God, if I’m going to die seeing this mission through, take me soon.
* * *
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, Chantel called Max at work. He’d just come in from a patient and was voicing his chart notes into his computer when the phone rang.
“Do you have anyone who covers for you there?”
“I do,” he said. And as soon as he got off the phone, he was going to ask the other pediatrician who worked at the clinic to take his appointments for the rest of the day. It would be the second day in a week that he’d asked for the favor.
“What’s up?” He’d dropped Caleb off at day care on his way in to work that morning so Chantel had the house to herself. And the freedom to come and go as necessary.
“I have a dinner appointment with that detective I told you about.”
“She’s in Santa Raquel?”
“No, it’s in Laughlin. She doesn’t want to meet in Vegas. She says there are too many people who know people there and she’s not sure who’s still friendly with Steve and who isn’t. I guess he was in good with the police commissioner and I’m guessing that’s why he still has a perfect record.”
“Laughlin’s nine hours from here.”
“I can get us booked on a flight to Bullhead City just across the river if you can leave by two. We’ll be home by eleven o’clock tonight. Wayne and his wife said they’d keep Caleb for us. They’ll come to your house. I think he’s curious to meet you and Caleb after seeing Meredith last night.”
“He believes her.”
“Yeah, but he also understands your position. It’s a tough one. Like I said, we all deal with DV issues, Max. And I knew you wouldn’t leave Caleb unless you were absolutely certain he’d be safe.”
“Thank you. I’m in.”
Max finished charting, rescheduled his well-checks, and moved the rest of his appointments to the office next door. He did the same for Thursday’s appointments, as well.
He had no idea what he was going to find out in Laughlin.
But he walked with new energy in his step.
He was going to get some answers.
Finally.
* * *
JENNA MANAGED TO avoid Lila on Wednesday. She avoided the cafeteria and, except for her speech therapy appointments, she avoided the main building.
For that one day, she avoided the library as well, opting instead to take a break at the resort’s kidney-shaped outdoor pool.
Steve was not her first priority that day.
Convincing Max that she’d left of her own accord was her number one priority. If he didn’t stop looking for her, Steve would get mad. He might do something to Caleb, just to show Max who was more powerful. Lying facedown on a lounge chair in the one piece suit she’d picked up from the TLS thrift store, Jenna closed her eyes.
After her restless night, she was exhausted.
And still couldn’t sleep.
She never should have married Max. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought, but it was true. She knew Steve better than anyone. She’d known he’d never leave her alone. She’d wanted so badly to have a normal life. To have a family of her own. To love and be loved.
She’d wanted to believe that all she had to do was have the courage to start over. To open her heart and let trust be reborn. To hope and dream.
But she’d known, with some part of her, that she couldn’t have a normal life. Steve wasn’t just an abuser. He was her owner. In h
is mind.
And still she’d married Max. She’d given birth to a child.
Knowing that they could be in danger someday.
Now it was up to her to fix that mistake.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that Lila had taken the seat next to her. But she opened them anyway.
Sitting sideways, facing Jenna, Lila was fully dressed in beige pants, a cream-colored blouse and a beige sweater. Her graying hair was pulled back into a bun. Jenna concentrated on the toes of the plain beige flats on the woman’s feet.
She didn’t say anything.
“Thank you for being out here,” Lila said softly. From her supine position, Jenna couldn’t see her face. She saw the older woman’s hands folded together, resting on her knees.
“The pool’s been open for almost a month and only a handful of people have used it. Mostly moms who come out to let their kids swim.”
There were certain hours when the pool was open to children. And there were adult-only swim times, too.
“I was hesitant at first about having a pool installed,” Lila continued. “Most of our women...they’ve got scars to hide outside as well as in...and then it occurred to me that that was exactly the reason to have a place where they can remember the joy of sluicing through the water or lying out in the sun without having to be self-conscious. And maybe...if they get used to it here, they’ll continue to go to the pool or the ocean when they leave here, too.”
Jenna had scars. On her back. Both upper arms. On the back of her neck and the front of one thigh. When had she stopped thinking about them? Remembering to hide them?
Turning over, she sat up.
“Max made me feel beautiful,” she said. Lila knew about Meredith. Officer Wayne Stanton had agreed to keep her whereabouts and her name change secret. Last night, in her office, Lila had, too.
Neither of them knew why she’d insisted they not tell anyone. And that if they did, she’d leave the shelter.
Husband by Choice Page 11
