It was more likely that he was feeling sorry for her. Last night after he’d gone home, she had to call and ask for a ride to the bank. He’d said he would take her but then she’d forgotten. She’d had at least one too many glasses of wine to drive herself. So he’d taken her to the bank to use the ATM and then he’d stayed at her house for a little while after Janey fell back to sleep, and Brenda had spilled her guts about Scott…how their relationship ended and every other dirty detail of the past six years. That was what happened after too many glasses of wine and way too much stress.
She couldn’t help feeling a little embarrassed now. But, frankly, it was difficult to hold on to any emotions for long at the moment. They kept changing. One minute she was as mad as hell. The next she wanted to weep. Then she moved on to total numbness. Through it all these threads of suspicion lingered…wove around and inside her like an out-of-control, suffocating vine.
What had Scott been doing? When had it started?
And who was this really nice guy named Ben Clark?
“What I need,” she said, pushing the thought away as this new idea came to her in a rush, “is time to figure this out. To determine what sort of mess Scott has left us with.”
Ben nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’m confident Detective Shelton will do all he can to solve the mystery of the explosion and your husband’s strange disappearance, but a second look from a different perspective never hurts.”
She took a breath. “I agree. Just one thing.”
He stared at her expectantly.
“I’d like to stop referring to him as my husband. We’ve been separated for a year. The only thing that defined us as husband and wife was a legal document we signed years ago. Obviously the problems I knew about were just the tip of the iceberg. Calling him my husband feels too intimate, and we hadn’t been intimate in any way in a very long time.” Maybe she’d said too much. Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry… I’m not myself.”
“Completely understandable.” He gave her a nod. “No more use of theHword.”
She felt a smile tug at her lips. Brenda had no idea how this man—this stranger—managed to prod that out of her. She had absolutely nothing to smile about.
“Before we jump into full Sherlock Holmes mode,” he suggested, “I think we should make breakfast.”
Mallory had likely already made breakfast for Janey. Brenda’s stomach warned she had ignored eating too often lately. “Breakfast first.” She hesitated, scrutinized his face once more. “We?” she asked. “Don’t you have work or something better to do than to dig around in this mess with me?”
“My office is wherever I am,” he explained. “I work on my own schedule, so whenever anything comes up, it’s easy for me to rearrange my agenda.”
For a single second a new drip of suspicion trickled through her.
She opted to face it head-on. “I don’t think you ever told me what you do.”
Under the circumstances, no one could blame her for this new stream of uncertainty. It was coming on the heels of weeks of personal upheaval complicated by an intruder. Who could blame her for suddenly needing to know more about anyone new to her life? Her respiration quickened, sending her heart into a faster rhythm. What if she was standing right here with the man who’d come into her house last night? He lived next door… He knew a lot about her and her home.
Slow down, Brenda. She drew in a deep breath.Give the man a chance to answer.
“Research,” he said. “I interview people. Watch people and report my findings. I can’t discuss my clients with you. But I can tell you that I study all sorts of human behaviors and human nature. I write reports and submit them.” He shrugged. “It’s not glamorous but it’s important for my clients.”
That he remained so patient and so kind she couldn’t help feeling contrite for questioning him. Paranoia had obviously crept up on her. “Sorry. I’ve just had a little extra uncertainty thrown into my life, and I’m feeling a little lacking in the trust area.”
“You can trust me, Brenda.” He said the words gently, sincerely. “I have no reason to want to deceive you or to harm you.”
Brenda suddenly wondered how long it would take for her to stop using all the promises Scott had broken…all the lies he had told her as a gauge to measure other men—people in general, for that matter.
“Come on,” he urged. “Breakfast first, then I’ll paint.”
Back in the house, Mallory sat on the floor of Janey’s room surrounded by Barbie dolls. Brenda had no idea how she had been lucky enough to find Mallory, but she was sincerely grateful for her. Janey adored her. Considering how absent Scott was even before his fake death, Mallory was a lifesaver. Both Brenda and Janey had been close to Leah, the first nanny Brenda had hired. Two years ago, when she died in a car crash, they had been devastated. After losing Leah, quite honestly Brenda had worried about hiring anyone else. To have Janey get so close to someone and then to lose that person, it was worrisome. When she’d dared to interview Mallory, there were no more questions. She was perfect.
Now her child had gone through losing a parent—who wasn’t really dead as it turned out. How would Brenda ever make Janey understand this? One thing was certain. She would not even broach the subject until—unless—he was back in person.
If that ever happened. Brenda shook her head. At this point it was impossible to even guess what was coming next.
When Brenda turned to head back to the kitchen, Ben held up a hand. “Spend time with your daughter,” he urged. “I’ll take care of breakfast.”
Brenda didn’t argue. Once again, she was too exhausted to muster up the effort. Instead, she and Mallory played like little girls with Janey. Before Brenda realized how much time had passed, Ben was calling them to the kitchen. Although Malloryhad microwaved a waffle for Janey, the child was hungry for more.
Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs and buttered toast. Fresh fruit and yogurt.
“Looks yummy,” Brenda confessed. Smelled even yummier.
