Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (67 page)

“No!”

“So you really aren't running from him.”

“No.”

“Then why not speak to him? It's obvious the man's worried sick about you. He's got two different police forces working on a missing person who isn't missing.”

“Max won't listen.” That much was true.

“But you are on the run.”

No. Not anymore. But... “Yes.”

“From an abuser.”

“Yes.”

“Were you married to him?”

“Yes.”

“He gave you those scars?”

Jenna pulled her wrap around her shoulders and tucked her towel around her legs.

“Yes.”

Lila nodded. “You're safe here.”

“I know.”

“Does Max know about him?”

“Yes.”

“And he thinks he can take him on,” Lila guessed. “You know better.”

Okay. It was sort of true. Max thought that the law could take on Steve. He believed that she could live free and happy. She shrugged. And knew that Lila took the action as an affirmative response to her question.

“And you're sure you don't need legal assistance?”

The thought was almost laughable to her. Except that she would never be at a point where she could laugh about anything to do with Steve Smith. “I don't.”

Lila hesitated. And then asked, “Do you have a plan, then?”

“No. I just....”

“You need time to figure out how to deal with an abusive ex-husband while married to a good man.”

She didn't answer.

“You know there's family counseling for survivors of abuse and their family members.”

“I know.”

She'd insisted that Max attend a program with her before she'd agreed to marry him.

But they all assumed the threat of abuse was in the past.

“I'm glad you're helping Romar. Sara said she thinks it'll go a long way toward her healing. Romar has somehow associated her inability to communicate with her abuse and also with her low self-concept.”

Lila was now speaking to her as a professional to another professional. Jenna noticed the shift.

And she was grateful for it. They spoke about a couple of other residents who could benefit from Jenna's services.

And then Lila said, “Because you wish it, you will remain Jenna McDonald here,” she said. “I ask only one thing.”

“What's that?”

“That if you're in trouble, you come to me right away.”

“I will.” She would if she could.

She liked the woman. Felt a peculiar kinship with her. And didn't miss Lila's skeptical look at her last comment.

She knew Jenna was up to something.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Y
OU
DIDN
'
T
TELL
me the dinner date was in a casino.” He'd changed from scrubs into jeans and a pull-over, but was still wearing the lime green high-tops he'd had on that morning. He'd been in a hurry.

Caleb had clung to him when Wayne Stanton and his wife, Maria, had first arrived. But Maria soon had the toddler engaged and Max might have been hurt by how easily he'd been able to slip away if he hadn't been so relieved.

“Detective Kolhase chose the spot.” Chantel, also in jeans, had been pretty closed-mouth about the upcoming meeting, though she'd been talkative on the flight over. Reliving the past. Things he'd forgotten. Like the time Jill had come up behind him while he'd been making a peanut butter sandwich, grabbing his arm from behind in a playful attempt to bind him, and sending a glob of peanut butter from the knife to Chantel's face. The glob had landed on her upper lip like a mustache and the three of them had laughed until it hurt.

“How do we know what this detective looks like? How do we find her?” And what was she going to tell them?

“She's in a navy suit, slacks and jacket, and will be carrying a red purse. She's got short dark hair.”

Lights flashed, music played and the sound of slot machines rang all around them. Max had been to casinos. He'd played blackjack a few times. He'd just never been able to relax and enjoy giving his earnings to chance.

“That must be her.” Chantel's tone changed from casual to all-business as she headed toward an alcove with a couple of couches and a table along a corridor lined with various eateries.

Diane Kolhase approached them, a confident smile on her face, and a sense about her that she could take the world by the hand and make it safe. She had a table in an Italian restaurant and led them there, letting their waitress know that they'd arrived.

So far he was impressed.

“I'm sorry for all the drama, bringing you here, rather than just meeting in Vegas,” she said as soon as they'd ordered and finished with introductory pleasantries. “But when you mentioned Steve Smith...”

Any sense of relaxation Max might have felt fled. As did his appetite.

“Did you know him personally?” he asked, not waiting for Chantel to conduct the interview.

“Yes. For a brief time I was his partner.”

“Why a brief time?” Chantel asked. “Was his behavior inappropriate?”

Diane, who was probably in her late thirties and looked as lithe and hard as a football running back, shook her head. “He was promoted,” she said, arms folded on the table as she leaned toward them. “Back then I was as impressed by him as everyone else was. The man has a mind like a steel trap. Nothing gets away from him. He walks into a room and could walk back in five minutes later and know if anything had moved even an inch. He could pull facts from a year before into a current case and come up with missing pieces before some of us even knew pieces were missing.”

Max leaned back in his chair, listening. And growing more desperate by the minute.

* * *

D
AY
E
IGHT
.

It's just after nine and I've retired for the night. Not because I'm tired but because I just couldn't keep up appearances any longer.

I invited Renee to have dinner with us tonight. She's down to only one roommate and the woman works in the cafeteria, so she's never home for meals and I didn't want her to have to cook for herself.

Latoya and Carly liked Renee, too, as I suspected they would. Carly, bless her heart, likes anyone who is kind to her, which could be part of what got her into the situation she was in. Latoya's a harder nut to crack, but she was the one who took Renee's plate from her when she was going to carry it to the sink. And filled her tea, too.

I talked to them all about having a pool party next weekend. They liked the idea and we started planning the food and talked about some games we could play. It's more than a week away and I wonder, will I still be here then? And what of Max and Caleb? Will they be well into learning to live without me?

I have to hope so. As much as the selfish part of me wants to matter more than that to them, I need to know that I'm not hurting them as badly as my own heart is hurting.

The pool party. I was talking about the pool party. It would be an opportunity for all of the women to be in swimsuits in a safe environment. Hopefully, Lila will be pleased. I don't ever want her to think that I'm just using The Lemonade Stand for my own ends.

Jenna wrote a bit more about the day, cataloguing her activities as though she was talking to a much older Caleb—a young man who would hopefully be reading with an open heart, seeking to understand why his mother had done what she'd done. Seeking the love for him that she was pouring into these pages.

And Max? Would he read them? With another woman by his side, perhaps?

Why do I torture myself with images of Max with another woman? Sometimes I'm afraid that maybe, secretly, I want that for him. I love him so much and it kills me to think of another woman touching him—and worse—him touching her. But wouldn't that be better for him? I want my love for him to be clean and pure and that means I have to always have his best interests at heart and what if that's not me?

Here, at The Lemonade Stand, I'm coming face-to-face with myself. Not part of my plan, but I can't seem to help it. The truth is I'm not pure and clean. I'm dirtied by a choice I made so long ago. The choice to marry Steve Smith. Max and Caleb, they're too...precious to me...too...clean...to be sprayed with Steve's mud.

Her arm cramped, but she wasn't at all tired. Her time alone that day, her talk with Lila at the pool, had filled her with wild energy as she contemplated what lay ahead. She was going to do this. She was really going to take Steve on. By herself. She was either going to find a way to convince him he no longer wanted her, or that it was in his best interests to let her go, or she was going to die trying. Because she wouldn't live with him again. And he'd never let her leave again, unless he himself decided to let her go.

Tomorrow I see Yvonne, and sweet little Olivia. I called again today to check on the little one and to confirm tomorrow's appointment. Olivia is home and was up playing this afternoon. The surgery only took half an hour and she didn't seem to be in any pain.

Finally something went right for those two. Lord knows they deserve it.

And while I'm out, I know what I can do to convince Max that I left him....

She wasn't going to think about that now. She knew what to do and she'd do it. She didn't have to dwell on it.

Her task was to dwell on Steve. To prepare herself.

I know now what it means to be alone when you are with other people. I am on this journey completely alone. I have no other voices giving me opinions or helping me plan the task ahead of me.

As I read more, as I go back in my mind to when I was with Steve, immerse myself in everything I know about him—good and bad—I feel as though I am becoming Steve.

I can see him so much more clearly, now. And as I read, I can feel him, too. I never could before. I couldn't understand how he could be so incredibly good at his job, so committed to catching the bad guys, so protective of the innocent, and then....

Well there are some things it won't pay to relive. I know that pain well enough.

And I know, just somehow
know
, that right now Steve is cursing me for having escaped him. He waited a long time for this reunion. So much longer than the other times he returned to claim me.

And this time his victory was going to be the sweetest of all because he was taking me away from a life I truly loved. A full, beautiful, healthy life.

I don't believe Steve is angry that I married Max. Or had Caleb. Though he's incensed that I slept with another man. He's glad about my Bennet boys because it gives him more power over me. There wasn't a lot he could do anymore that would faze me. I just didn't care enough about anything.

Until Max. By marrying Max I gave Steve more than he'd probably hoped for. He's got me now. Well and completely.

Because just as I am getting inside of him, he's been inside of me for almost half my life.

He knows that I'll do anything he says as long as he leaves Max and Caleb alone.

My fate was sealed the day I said “I do.”

I am so, so sorry, Caleb. I didn't know then. I hadn't figured it out yet.

I will make this right.

Goodnight, Little Man.

The last words smeared as her tears fell to the page.

* * *

M
AX
COULDN
'
T
REMEMBER
much about the food he ate. And he would forever remember that Laughlin casino as one of the darkest places he'd ever been in. Flashing lights could do nothing to dispel the feeling of dread that came over him as he paid the dinner bill and followed the two policewomen out of the restaurant and down to the river walk.

Diane Kolhase had suggested that he should at least see it before she drove them back across the Colorado River to the Arizona airport where they'd catch their flight back to California.

In truth, she'd probably realized that he couldn't just sit in one place and listen to the things she was telling him.

Or maybe she hadn't wanted to continue the conversation in one place—where someone might inadvertently overhear them.

“You've been hinting all evening that you know something in particular,” Max said, walking in between the two women on the wooden sidewalk that ran behind the strip of casino hotels along the Colorado River. There were a few couples out strolling, but that Wednesday was a quiet night in the casino town.

“I do.” Diane had done a fine job painting a picture of a larger-than-life cop that everyone would want to know. She'd spoken of awards and commendations. About Steve Smith risking his life to rescue a little girl from the hands of a pedophile before any irreparable damage had been done. About the man saving the commissioner's recalcitrant daughter from a drug dealer she'd fancied herself in love with. About his fearlessness where the underground powers in Vegas were concerned.

If he hadn't been concerned with saving his wife's life, Max would have been intimidated.

“Tell me what you know,” he insisted.

The Vegas detective, a few inches shorter than he was, glanced up at him. “Chantel told me your first wife was killed saving a fellow officer.” The words that came out of her mouth were unexpected.

“That's right.” Jill had come around the corner to see a man pointing a gun at a junior officer and had taken the perp by surprise from behind, knocking his gun from his hand. He'd knocked her to the ground and managed to get his gun and get one shot off before the other officer killed the man.

The one shot had been all it took to end Jill's life. She'd bled out on the street.

“Chantel said the other officer was on a routine domestic violence call and the perp ran. Your wife was backup.”

“We all heard the call come through on the radio,” Chantel said, from Max's other side. The sound of her voice in the cool darkness was calming. Familiar. The voice he'd first heard as he'd stood over that puddle of blood in the street, telling him to walk away.

To come with her.

Chantel had seen him through those first horrible hours. She'd been at the funeral home with him, helped him make decisions he'd never expected he'd have to make. Jill's family hadn't arrived yet.

“Jill was the first on the scene.”

And in the space of a second, her life was over. And his had been irrevocably changed.

It wasn't going to happen again. “Tell me what you know,” he said to the detective.

“Steve Smith was having an affair with a woman he'd saved during a robbery attempt. She was young. A dancer. Making it on her own. These two hoodlums looking for drug money grabbed her from behind....”

Max heard only one thing. “Did Meredith find out about the affair?”

“I have no idea.”

“Did you know Meredith?” It was a question he'd wanted to ask, but hadn't yet.

“I met her a couple of times, but no, I wouldn't say I knew her. I don't think anyone on the force really did. Steve liked to keep his private life private.”

Not a bad practice. Unless you were hiding something.

“She left him while the affair was going on. After Meredith was gone, Steve wanted the woman to quit her job. She was in one of the classy shows in one of the elegant hotels on the strip, but apparently he didn't like her on stage at all. His partner at the time was a guy I used to date and he told me about a phone call he overheard between Smith and the girl. He was saying that even the greatest couples have their low moments.

“The girl wouldn't quit. Six months later she ends up dead.”

Max kept walking and listening. Chantel's grasp on his wrist kept him focused.

“What was the C.O.D.?” Chantel asked.

Cause of death. Max recognized the term.

“Car accident.”

He started to breathe a little easier.

“She'd been drinking and hit a tree.”

“But you think Steve had something to do with it?” Chantel asked.

“He was with her that night. And when the autopsy came back, the coroner said that she'd been beaten—before the accident. I figured there'd at least be an internal investigation, but next thing I knew the report was sealed. The beating didn't cause the death and that was that. But talk was that there'd been a witness, a neighbor, who'd heard Steve and the woman fighting. She'd fled the apartment and a couple of minutes later and three blocks away, she wrapped her car around a tree.”