CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

Now, as she watched teenagers climb into cars, Brooke realized her response to Neal's involvement with Jennifer Adkins had been way out of line. Not that she shouldn't have felt such a deep betrayal, but when she'd met Gideon, she'd felt somewhat justified in becoming entangled with another man.

How stupid.

Look what had happened.

Her gaze followed a group of kids climbing into an old Cadillac, a boy who looked too young to drive getting behind the wheel and peeling out of the lot. Farther up the street, she caught a glimpse of Austin Keller behind the wheel of his pickup, and when he saw his daughter approach he climbed out, no longer tall and lanky as he had been in high school but a little more muscular, his hair still a coffee brown and his beard shadow covering his jaw. At the sight of his daughter, Chloe, he waved his hand, and the girl with the straight red hair nearly sprinted across the lawn to him. They fist bumped and laughed, a widowed man and his seemingly well-adjusted kid. As if he'd sensed Brooke watching him, he'd turned and smiled, then given a wave as he climbed into his truck.

"There she is," Neal said and slid open the driver's side window to wave at Marilee.

She spotted her father, then looked back to the doorway where Nick held up a hand. Marilee smiled faintly, then turned and half ran to the SUV, where she quickly opened the back door and ducked inside.

"How was the dance?" Neal asked, and Brooke cringed. What a stupid question.

"How do you think it was? Don't you know?" Marilee charged. "You ruined it!"

"We didn't ruin anything," Brooke said.

"Oh yeah right! Are you crazy, Mom?" And then, without waiting for an answer, she said to Neal, "Can you just drive?" and slithered down in the back seat, as if to make herself invisible.

"Marilee," Brooke said. "I'm sorry. Your father's right, I did overreact a little bit, but—"

"A little bit? Jesus, Mom, you were a fu—a lunatic!"

"Hey! Language!" Neal barked as he pulled out of the lot.

"But the whole dance stopped. Everyone saw you!" She was starting to cry, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I can never go to school again!"

"Sure you can," Neal said. "By Monday no one will even remember."

"You really believe that?" Marilee was sobbing now.

Neal's face had hardened. Of course he didn't believe his platitude. None of them did. For a while no one spoke, the sound of the tires on the pavement the only sound as Marilee tried to stifle her sobs. Brooke's heart was breaking.

"You're right," Brooke finally admitted as they turned into their neighborhood. "I'm sorry. I was waaay out of line. I got spooked. Because of Allison Carelli and"—she glanced at Neal to catch his reaction—"and I thought I saw someone watching the house lately."

"What?" Neal said. "Who?"

"That's it, I don't know."

"Someone was watching the house?" Marilee said, sniffing loudly. "And so that makes it okay for you to go all psycho and ruin my life?"

"I'm not ruining—"

"You are!" she argued. "I was so embarrassed! And Nick. Why do you hate him?"

"I don't; we don't hate him," Brooke said.

Neal cut in. "Wait a sec. You said you think someone is watching the house?"

"I've seen someone, but I didn't think it was a big deal until—"

"When?" Neal demanded. "Where did you see him?"

"I'm not even sure it's a man, but it's a feeling I've had. And I've seen someone who seems to be lurking, and tonight Leah said she'd seen him—er, a figure—too. Near the park. By the gate."

"Across the street from the house?" Neal said. "There?" He pointed toward the hedgerow growing next to the fence surrounding the park.

"Yes."

Marilee said, "So you and Aunt Leah see someone on the street and that makes you think I'm not at the dance?" She let out a disgusted breath. "Like that makes any sense!"

Neal turned into the driveway. "It freaked your mom out because of the missing girls."

"You thought, what? That someone had kidnapped me or murdered me? Jesus, are you serious?" She was gobsmacked. "Mom, really, this is sooo over the top!"

Neal said, "We tried to text and call you, but you didn't respond."

"I did!" she argued, and Brooke remembered the text with the cat emoji and how she hadn't believed her daughter was really at the school.

"Well, later. We tried again."

"But I wasn't missing. I was at the dance!"

"Or," Brooke said as Neal hit the garage door opener and the door started to rise, "more precisely, you weren't at the dance but in the courtyard, making out with Nick."

"Ooh. Gross! You keep saying I'm making out," Marilee accused, unbuckling her seat belt.

"Because you were!" Brooke said as Neal drove into the garage and cut the engine. "And that only leads to trouble."

"You should know!" Marilee flung open the door and sprang from the car.

"Wow," Neal said, closing the garage door remotely.

Brooke couldn't argue. "I guess I had that coming." She and Neal had never hidden the fact that she was pregnant when they got married. Until now, it hadn't been an issue.

"She's right, you know," Neal said as she heard the engine tick as it cooled. "You were acting as if you'd lost your mind."

"If you say so," she said, more harshly than she'd anticipated. She didn't dare tell him the truth: that her lover—make that ex-lover—had been texting her, practically stalking her. The car's interior dimmed as she recalled how he'd had the nerve to confront her and Neal and Marilee. How he appeared as a fake security guard after posing as a pizza deliveryman. Gideon was definitely stalking her and ramping up his intimidation. Phone calls and texts were one thing. Pretending to be a deliveryman or a damned security guard and cutting her off in traffic was another thing altogether. And what about the bracelet? Somehow he'd found a way into her house.

How far would he go?

Hadn't he told her?

Her insides churned.

She had to find some way to stop him.

Before all of their lives were destroyed.

"Just try to keep a cool head," Neal advised.

"Okay. Great. Fabulous advice." She opened the passenger door and the interior light of the car switched on again. "From now on I'll try to get a firmer grip on my sanity." She was about to step out, but he grabbed her arm.

"You really saw someone outside the house?" His face was creased with concern.

"Yes." Irritated, she said, "Why would I lie about that?"

"You tell me."

She noticed the questions in his eyes. Ignored them. "If you don't believe me, ask Leah."

"I don't think that's necessary. I trust you."

Her heart wrenched, but she said, "Good. I hope so." Yanking her arm from his grip, she shot out of the car and up the stairs to find Shep wiggling and wagging his tail as he greeted her.

"Hey, I missed you too," she said.

Barking his exuberance, Shep greeted Neal too. While he walked through the kitchen, Shep dashed to the French doors in the kitchen. She got the hint and let him outside. Eagerly, the dog padded across the deck and down the steps to the backyard. "Good boy," she said as she heard the door to Neal's den click closed.

Good.

She was tired of fighting with him. Of lying to him. She stood at the French doors, watching the dog wander across the shadowy lawn and wondering just how she was going to get rid of Gideon.

There had to be a way to ensure she would never see him again.

Whatever it was, it would have to be final.

She would do it.

And she'd never look back.

The dog was taking his sweet time, so she left the French doors ajar for Shep, then made her way to the second floor. In the hallway she tapped lightly on Marilee's door.

No answer.

She rapped louder.

Still no response.

Opening the door, she poked her head inside. "I think we need to talk," but her daughter was at the desk, back toward Brooke and wearing earbuds. Marilee had her iPad on her lap, her computer monitor glowing on her desk, gaming controller and cell phone in the clutter of fingernail polish bottles and books and clothes.

"Marilee?" she said loudly and her daughter physically started.

Pivoting in her chair, she said, "Get out."

"What?"

"This is my room. My space. Get out!" Marilee's face was twisted in imperious disgust.

Brooke bristled. "This is my space too. I live here. I own the house."

"Daddy owns the house." She angled up her chin defiantly.

"Look, I was trying to say that I'm sorry I was a little over the top."

"A little?" She looked about to say something more disparaging but managed to hold her tongue.

"I'm trying to apologize."

"And I'm trying to accept it. But I can't. You know why? You seem intent on ruining my life! Do you know how embarrassing that was, or what it's going to be like for me at school on Monday?"

"You mentioned it, yeah."

Marilee ripped one of the Airpods from her ear and her face threatened to collapse in on itself, her chin trembling. "It's going to be horrible. Everyone will know what happened. Well, they already do. It's all over IG and TikTok and everywhere! But at school they'll be pointing and laughing and talking behind my back. And Nick . . ." Her voice drifted off on a sob. "Oh, just . . . just leave me alone."

"But—"

"Mom, please! Just go!"

"I'm trying to apologize."

"Are you?"

"You're not making it easy."

"Leave me alone!" She turned her back to Brooke again.

Knowing the fight would escalate if she stayed, Brooke finally did as she was bid and stepped into the hall. A split second before she pulled the door closed behind her, she thought she heard, "I hate you" whispered under Marilee's breath.

Her heart shuddered.

She'd blown it.

Pure and simple.

Everything she'd worked hard to create for decades was crumbling apart and it was all her fault.

Gideon had infiltrated her mind, her body, her soul, and now . . . now her family.

Before she could take a step across the hall, her cell phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans. She retrieved it and stared at the message on the screen:

Your daughter is as beautiful as you are.

Be careful.

It would be a shame if you were to lose her.

She couldn't breathe.

Gideon wasn't just threatening her; he was now threatening Marilee.

Oh no, you prick. Don't you . . . no, no, no!Her heart was thumping in her chest, fear running through her veins. He wouldn't dare. He wouldn't . . . for a second she thought of Allison Carelli . . . Oh Jesus, no! Gideon couldn't be involved in her disappearance. There was no way. But as she stared at the message, she wondered.

Should she go to the police?

She shuddered at the thought. She had her own memories of dealing with authorities, how things could be misconstrued, witnesses unreliable, charges brought . . . She couldn't go there. Not now.

But this was dire. Should she call in an anonymous tip?

Her mind was spinning with unthinkable, horrible scenarios. She leaned heavily against the deck's rail and tried to recall any evidence, any indication that Gideon could be involved.

She wanted to frantically type a text message, to warn him to back off, to leave her and her family alone. But she knew that he was baiting her, hoping to engage, and on her personal cell phone, the one Neal could access if he called the phone company.

Her stomach tightened and roiled and she felt the sudden burst of saliva bloom in her mouth. She was going to . . . oh hell! She raced to the bathroom off her bedroom and barely made it to the toilet before she heaved into the bowl. Everything she'd eaten that afternoon and evening came back up before she dry heaved twice.

Shaken, she flushed the toilet and sat on the cool tiles before finally realizing she wasn't going to hurl again. She stood on wobbly legs, turned on the tap, and leaned over the sink to take a drink, rinse her mouth out, and spit.

She caught her reflection in the mirror, pale and wan, hair a mess, and then her eyes rounded as she thought just briefly of feeling like this fifteen years earlier. When she'd been pregnant with Marilee. Her nausea hadn't been an early morning thing. There was no schedule. It had come day or night.

Gripping the counter, she told herself it couldn't be, then did a quick mental calculation. When was the last time she'd had a period? Her cycle had always been erratic, unlike so many of her friends. She pulled out her phone and confirmed the timing, her heart sinking.

Six weeks?

No, that couldn't be right. But she'd marked the date on her phone's calendar. She'd been late before. Often by a week, possibly ten days. Each time had proven to be a false alarm.

After giving birth to Marilee, she'd been prescribed the birth control pill to help straighten out her cycle, but on the medication she'd gained weight, suffered serious mood swings, and lost most of her interest in sex, even on a low dose. So she'd decided not to bother and accept that her body was different than most women's.

But now . . .

The cold reality was horrifying. She clutched the counter in a death grip, the sharp edges cutting into her palm. Her mind raced to the past several months and the times she'd been with Gideon in his bed, always careful, and yes, she and Neal had made love, but it had been very recent because they had been recently separated.

Her pulse pounded in her brain.

Sweat dappled her skin.

She couldn't be pregnant. She silently said as much to the woman in the reflection. No damned way. She was not carrying Gideon Ross's baby.

Bile rose in her throat again, but she swallowed it back and stared at the wan, frightened woman looking back at her with wide, horrified eyes.