stupid? All those late nights 'at work,' the months of his pulling away from me. Maybe I had known, but I hadn't allowed myself to see. How could I, after all Brock had done for me? That mistreated, ailment-faking child had grown up but was never quite whole until Brock stepped into her life with the missing pieces.
Now Brock was missing a few of his own. Like common sense. And morals and loyalty.
Out of nowhere, Stalking Man's voice played in my head. I looked back to Brock. "Tell meâwould your p-professional reputation be ruined if you reversed your opinion on Lyme?"
His jaw tightened, and his narrowed gaze rose to mine. "Is that what this is all about? You want to bring me down. You want to ruin me."
Like you're ruining me?
All the same, I had to admit there was a certain logic to his accusation. He was leaving me for some young assistant at work. Someone who helped daily in the lab, on his research. Why shouldn't I strike back at him professionally?
Still, how quickly Brock had concluded that. Just three days ago who would have believed I was capable of such a thing? Who'd believe, that is, except someone just as low, who could recognize the wash of the very traits he was drowning in.
"How did you ever g-guess?" My tone ran as chilled and hard as a brick dam against snow melt. "Yes. I made it up. All the symptoms, the phone c-calls. My fear. I lied to you. Lied to the police. Launched a f-formal investigation into thin air. Which, I believe, is a . . . crime." Tears bit my eyes, but I blinked them back. I would not cry in front of this man. Not here, not now. Not ever. "If that's what you want to believe, Brock, go right ahead. Must make you feel better. Because only a louse would walk out on a s-sick wife just home from the hospital."
He jumped up. "I don't have to listen to this."
Sudden fear raked nails across my chest. This was really going to happen. Within an hour or two he'd be gone. "Brock, please. He threatened to infect Lauren, don't you hear? We can't let him get to Lauren!"
Brock whirled on me, then stomped over to shake a finger in my face. " Don't you bring my daughter into your little scheme, Jannie. Don't you dare! Because if you do, I'll take her away from you. That's a promise."
He jerked away and strode from the room. I sat like a stone, listening to the thump of his footsteps as he hurried upstairs to pack.
Chapter 15
BY THE TIME MARIA BROUGHT LAUREN HOME, lugging her backpack and suitcase, Brock had thrown together two suitcases of clothes and put them in his car. Child returns, husband leaves. He was now in his office with the door closed. My insides had numbed. I hardly knew how to greet my own daughter.
"Sweetie." In the hall I leaned down, pasting a smile on my face. My feet were planted apart, one hand on the cane so I wouldn't fall over. Maria and Katie hung in the doorway, watching. I could feel their shock at my appearance.
"Mom!" Lauren hugged me gently, then pulled back, her eyes shiny. The freckles on her nose looked darker, or was that just my imagination? "I'm so glad you're home."
"Me too." I rubbed the top of her head, my heart turning inside out. What it would do to her to hear her father was leaving. "You and Katie take your things up to your room, okay?"
"Glad you're back." Katie touched my arm as she followed Lauren.
"Thanks, honey."
Maria shut the front door as we watched them disappear upstairs. She regarded me with a shake of her head. "Jannie, you look . . ."
"I know. Let's sit down."
I clumped into the den. To the couch where I'd heard the words that would change my life. Maria took the armchair. "Before I forget, Lauren has some homework to finish. She promised me she'd do it when she got home."
"Okay."
"So." Concern etched Maria's forehead. "They still don't know what's wrong with you?"
"Brock does. I'm faking. And he's leaving me."
Maria's chin tilted down. She looked at me through her white-blonde bangs, eyebrows raised. "What?"
In low tones I
Now Brock was missing a few of his own. Like common sense. And morals and loyalty.
Out of nowhere, Stalking Man's voice played in my head. I looked back to Brock. "Tell meâwould your p-professional reputation be ruined if you reversed your opinion on Lyme?"
His jaw tightened, and his narrowed gaze rose to mine. "Is that what this is all about? You want to bring me down. You want to ruin me."
Like you're ruining me?
All the same, I had to admit there was a certain logic to his accusation. He was leaving me for some young assistant at work. Someone who helped daily in the lab, on his research. Why shouldn't I strike back at him professionally?
Still, how quickly Brock had concluded that. Just three days ago who would have believed I was capable of such a thing? Who'd believe, that is, except someone just as low, who could recognize the wash of the very traits he was drowning in.
"How did you ever g-guess?" My tone ran as chilled and hard as a brick dam against snow melt. "Yes. I made it up. All the symptoms, the phone c-calls. My fear. I lied to you. Lied to the police. Launched a f-formal investigation into thin air. Which, I believe, is a . . . crime." Tears bit my eyes, but I blinked them back. I would not cry in front of this man. Not here, not now. Not ever. "If that's what you want to believe, Brock, go right ahead. Must make you feel better. Because only a louse would walk out on a s-sick wife just home from the hospital."
He jumped up. "I don't have to listen to this."
Sudden fear raked nails across my chest. This was really going to happen. Within an hour or two he'd be gone. "Brock, please. He threatened to infect Lauren, don't you hear? We can't let him get to Lauren!"
Brock whirled on me, then stomped over to shake a finger in my face. " Don't you bring my daughter into your little scheme, Jannie. Don't you dare! Because if you do, I'll take her away from you. That's a promise."
He jerked away and strode from the room. I sat like a stone, listening to the thump of his footsteps as he hurried upstairs to pack.
Chapter 15
BY THE TIME MARIA BROUGHT LAUREN HOME, lugging her backpack and suitcase, Brock had thrown together two suitcases of clothes and put them in his car. Child returns, husband leaves. He was now in his office with the door closed. My insides had numbed. I hardly knew how to greet my own daughter.
"Sweetie." In the hall I leaned down, pasting a smile on my face. My feet were planted apart, one hand on the cane so I wouldn't fall over. Maria and Katie hung in the doorway, watching. I could feel their shock at my appearance.
"Mom!" Lauren hugged me gently, then pulled back, her eyes shiny. The freckles on her nose looked darker, or was that just my imagination? "I'm so glad you're home."
"Me too." I rubbed the top of her head, my heart turning inside out. What it would do to her to hear her father was leaving. "You and Katie take your things up to your room, okay?"
"Glad you're back." Katie touched my arm as she followed Lauren.
"Thanks, honey."
Maria shut the front door as we watched them disappear upstairs. She regarded me with a shake of her head. "Jannie, you look . . ."
"I know. Let's sit down."
I clumped into the den. To the couch where I'd heard the words that would change my life. Maria took the armchair. "Before I forget, Lauren has some homework to finish. She promised me she'd do it when she got home."
"Okay."
"So." Concern etched Maria's forehead. "They still don't know what's wrong with you?"
"Brock does. I'm faking. And he's leaving me."
Maria's chin tilted down. She looked at me through her white-blonde bangs, eyebrows raised. "What?"
In low tones I
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