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To Josh. Not to her. Not to Lauren or Candace. Harris’s main concern was always all about protecting Josh. Harris did it without thinking and had trained her to act the same way and never question Josh’s actions.
“Lauren wandered away at night and ended up dead in the water,” Elisa said, repeating the story, which made even less sense to her the second time she mentally dissected it.
“I know how it sounds. I really do, but you weren’t there.”
She heard the pain in his voice, and her instinct to say anddo things to make this better kicked in. She had to fight to ignore it, that integral part of her. “You’re smarter than this, Harris. With anyone else, you’d ask questions.”
“But he’s not just anyone.” Harris dropped her hand and started pacing the space between the bed and sitting room. “I can’t see himdoing ... he wouldn’t do it.”
“What else don’t I know?”
Harris shook his head. “Nothing. I promise.”
For the first time in their marriage she didn’t believe him.
Patricia Summers. That was the name Harris had given her. The woman he dated and never talked about. The one who was with him when the unthinkable happened to Lauren... to Josh.
Well, back then it was unthinkable. Now, having the women in Josh’s life die might be the expected thing since it happened so damned often.
Elisa didn’t want to be this person. The kind who snooped and researched, but the choices the men in her life had made drove her to it. She didn’t know who to trust or what to think. After an entire marriage of putting her husband’s needs first, of doting on him, she’d lost the ability to see things clearly.
She’d searched Harris’s social media accounts for followers named Patricia and nothing. He told her that Patricia was in veterinary school with him at the University of Pennsylvania. That should make it easier to find her since Penn was the only veterinary school that awarded a VMD rather than a DVM degree.
Elisa looked for alumni named Patricia. Searched for “Patricia” and “VMD” and didn’t get any matches that could have been her. Another lie? More omissions? She had no idea.
The only thing that she knew for certain was that the trail of dead and missing women leading to Josh had just gotten one body longer.
Chapter Nineteen
A confusing night gave way to an exhausted morning. Elisa shuffled around the kitchen in her gray and white pinstripe pajamas. She poured a cup of coffee and set the pot down but didn’t realize how hard she slammed it on the stand until she heard a cracking sound.
“You broke it. You broke it.” Nathan made the words into a song as he sat at the kitchen table, playing with a dinosaur he’d built.
“Nathan, please.”
He sang louder and added a thumping sound as he smacked his spoon against the wooden table. “Broken, broken, broken.”
She reached over his head and grabbed the spoon. “That’s enough.”
She didn’t notice her hands were shaking until she set the spoon on the counter. Flexing her fingers a few times eased the trembling but didn’t eliminate it. A deep fog had settled over her, and she couldn’t break through it. Words sounded either too loud or completely muffled. A headache pounded through her until it felt like her skull was breaking apart.
She’d tried drinking tea and practicing her breathing exercises before Nathan ran downstairs. She’d sat in a calm, quiet space . . . blah, blah, blah. None of it worked, so she switched to coffee. Anxiety rushed and whirled through her. She’d twice realized she was biting her thumbnail while her thoughts drifted and had to force herself to stop.
She hadn’t been okay for a long time, but the anxiety had intensified since that blowup with Josh outside his office building yesterday. Another panic attack waited on the far edge of her mind. She could feel it lurking out there. Building, gaining strength. She feared a second round might pull her under. Steal her breath and leave her shaking and unable to stand again.
Nathan couldn’t see any of that. She needed to be strong for him. She also needed answers. Abby, Lauren, and even doubts about Candace’s accident on the stairs had wormed their way into her head.
She heard an odd shaking sound. Like uncooked beans in a tin.
Nathan stopped singing but now he used the table as a drum and he was holding... something. He shook it like a maraca. Then she saw it. A white bottle.
Pills.
Oh my God. “Nathan, no!”
He froze with his arm in the air.
“Give those to me.” This wasn’t the time for subtle. She made a grab for the bottle, but he dropped his arm at the same time and she missed.
