Chapter 53
That first night, Lance thought the ache in his heart would get the best of him. He reached over and touched the empty space where Brooklyn had lain and felt tears behind his eyelids. He wondered how she was doing, pictured her walking the floors of her fancy home. Against his will, he envisioned her in the arms of her husband and punched the mattress with his fist.
I have to stop thinking about her! There’s nothing that can be done.
Long hours passed before he was able to sleep.
Chapter 54
The next morning, Clark followed Brook around as she took her suitcases from the closet and packed her things. The argument continued until she wanted to slap him.
“I know what I did was wrong,” Clark said. “But you did wrong, too. You’re not little Miss Perfect, you know.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. “You're breaking my heart, here! I'm trying to be reasonable but you're just determined to destroy our marriage. I just don't understand it. I don’t see why we can’t just forgive each other and go on like before."
"I'm not asking your forgiveness, Clark." Brook gripped her hands together until her knuckles whitened, fighting the urge to strike out.
"If I’m willing to forgive you, why can’t you forgive me? I’ve learned my lesson. My god, have I ever learned my lesson!”
“I
doubt
if I’ll
ever
be able to forgive you. But, if I do, it’ll be because I don’t want to carry the bitterness around in my heart any longer, and not because you deserve it. Face it Clark, our marriage is way beyond repair. It’s over.” Brook was shaking from barely contained rage and heartache. “I’m not sure even now you can grasp the horror I went through. Open your ears and listen to me. I was raped, Clark! Again and again. And I was beaten. I was almost killed! Then, after I managed to get away, I fell down a ravine and got lost in the forest. I only had a shirt on, no shoes, nothing. I went through hell! And all because of you! If it weren’t for pure luck and the kindness of Lance, I’d be dead right now.”
Clark slammed his hand onto the dresser. “Lance! You know, you keep bringing
him
up. All this time I was worrying my ass off about you, and you were up there in a cozy little love nest banging a complete stranger. What about that, Brook?”
“Shut up! You make it sound filthy and vulgar and cheap. I won’t stand for it! It wasn’t like that at all. The man saved my life, Clark. He not only kept me from dying, he gave me new reasons to be glad I’m alive. You could never understand it no matter what I say. There's no point in discussing it. I don't even want to talk about it with you. I’m through!” Brook’s face was flushed. She refused to allow Clark to reduce her love for Lance to a base animal act. He was trying to shame her and she resented it. “There is no way you can equate what you did with what I did anyway, hard as you might try, Clark. There’s just no way.”
She walked down the stairs, her suitcases banging against her legs. She dragged the bags into the garage, surveyed the remaining cars, and decided to take the Lexus. She opened the trunk, deposited her luggage, and pulled out of the garage. Driving away, she took one last look at the outside of the house. Clark’s forlorn figure leaned against the front entry, watching her.
“Goodbye,” she whispered before accelerating down the road.
Brook checked into a motel room, plugged her cell phone into its charger, and unpacked her clothes. While she waited on her phone to charge, she placed a call to her parents from the room phone and told them as gently as possible that she had left Clark. Once again her mother expressed a desire to hop on a plane, but Brook implored her to wait. She would visit soon, she promised.
Brook stared at her phone where it lay charging. After all these months, she knew she would find it loaded with desperate messages from her family. She wasn’t strong enough to hear those heartbreaking calls just yet. That would have to wait for another time.
Turning back to the room phone, she made an appointment with an attorney to file for divorce. Then she called Randi to let her know where she was staying. There was a note of sympathy in the detective’s voice. She could read between the lines and suspected that Brook’s marriage was on a downward slide.
“I tried to call your house but got no answer,” Randi said. “We have someone in custody and we’d like you to take a look at a lineup. Could you come in later this morning?”
Brook’s heart thudded.
“Which one?” Her throat squeezed nearly shut and she spoke with difficulty.
“Benny.” Randi listened through a long pause, and then continued. “Although his ID has him as Kevin Russell Benson.”
Brook swallowed hard. “I’ll be there.”
Later that morning, Brook entered the police station and was escorted into the inner sanctum by a young policewoman. A few people passed by them as they made their way down the hall. Brook clutched her purse nervously under her arm and touched the bracelet Lance had given her. She sought comfort and courage from the precious gift.
“BrooklynBridge!” a familiar voice exclaimed.
As recognition slammed through her, the blood drained from Brook’s face, and nausea rose in her throat.
Benny was being led in chains down the hall by a massive uniformed officer, a Hispanic man with arms the size of Benny’s thighs. Benny looked Brook up and down from a distance of no more than four feet and licked his lips suggestively.
“That’s him!” Brook screamed, ducking behind the policewoman beside her. “He’s one of them!”
Benny started toward her, but was yanked back by his escort and slammed against the wall. “You just need to back off, buddy. Just chill,” the officer warned Benny, holding him easily in place with one beefy hand.
“Hey, baby!” Benny smirked at Brook. “You missed me, didn’t you? I missed you. It sure is good to see you again.”
“Make him shut up!” Brook’s voice bordered on hysteria and she covered her ears with trembling hands. “Get him away from me!”
Randi poked her head out of a doorway. “What the hell’s going on?” she demanded. Looking both ways, she took in the situation. “Get him outta here! Now!” she yelled as she rushed to Brook’s side. Brook found herself supported between the detective and the female officer as they led her toward an office.
“Remember all the fun we had?” Benny called over his shoulder, doing the awkward inmate shuffle ahead of the enormous policeman. “Hey, dude, that hurts!” Benny complained. His voice faded as he was pushed around a corner.
“I’m so sorry, Brook. That should have never happened.” Randi patted her on the shoulder. She helped her into a chair just as Brook’s legs collapsed. Randi turned to the policewoman. “Bring a glass of water, please.”
“Brook,” Randi said, catching Brook’s eye. “I’m really sorry. There’s no excuse for what just happened. It was simply bad timing, lack of coordination, or something like that. But, heads will roll over this, I guarantee you.”
“Never mind,” Brook managed, a catch in her voice. The officer returned with the water. She whispered in Randi’s ear before handing the cup to Brook. Randi nodded at the officer and then gave Brook a look of concern.
“I’m okay, really. I just need a minute.” Brook drank deeply from the cup.
Randi waited for Brook to compose herself, then continued. “We arrested Mr. Benson on an attempted carjacking, so he’s toast. But, if you can handle it, we still need to do the lineup.”
Steely resolve asserted itself and Brook's face grew taut as long-buried anger overtook her fear. “I can handle it." Her voice trembled only slightly. “In fact, I
want
to pick him out of a lineup. Did you hear him? What he called me?”
“Yes. I did,” Randi said, shaking her head. “He just substantiated your story in front of three witnesses. Not the brightest bulb in the box, is he?”
Brook managed a small mirthless laugh.
“Do feel ready to make the identification now?”
Brook rose to her feet. “Lead the way.”
She made it through the identification process, trembling the whole time, grim but satisfied when it was over. When she left the police station, she took a deep breath of crisp spring air and squinted into the sunlit sky. She wished this was all over and done with. She just wanted to get on with her life, to put this all behind her.
Randi called her later to tell her Benny had given the others up rather than go down alone. They had issued warrants for Gina, Pete, and Jase, Randi advised her, and it was only a matter of time before they would be apprehended. “He also gave us the name of their contact, the guy who set up the jobs, a man by the name of Anton D’Macio. Have you ever heard this name before?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Brook replied. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”
“I didn’t think so, but it never hurts to ask. Anyway, D’Macio has already flown the coop." Randi's disappointment was obvious. “When we got to his apartment, it was cleaned out, and it looked like it was done in a hurry. We’re not sure how, but we believe he was tipped off. We’ve been trying to break this carjacking ring for several years. This was the first name we’d gotten and we were optimistic that we would finally make some headway in our case. We suspect D’Macio was the middleman and now he’s gone. Probably out of the country by now.
“We’re pretty sure the ringleader is someone of importance, but, again, we have no information as to who he might be. If we could have nabbed D’Macio, he might have rolled over. But, no dice. Oh, and a heads up to you: the press has wind of this now. They’ll be looking for you. With you in a motel, they’ll have a harder time tracking you. Eventually, they'll find you. But for now, just keep your head low and you should be okay.”
Brook thanked her and hung up. She then placed a call to Clark.
“Brook, thank god. I was hoping you’d have a change of heart, honey. Please tell me you’re calling to say we can start over.”
“You warned him.” Her voice was clipped.
“Who?” Clark asked, feigning innocence. “Warned who?”
“Don’t play stupid, Clark. It’s too late for that. You warned D’Macio.”
“Of course I did. He’s the only one who can link me to this whole thing.” He was using that ultra-reasonable tone that Brook despised. “I did it out of a sense of self-preservation.”
“Whatever. I didn’t call for that anyway,” Brook said wearily. “I just want to make sure you won’t fight the divorce.”
“Divorce? “
“Yes, divorce. I filed first thing this morning.”
“Whoa, now. You don’t intend to go through with that, do you? You'd better just take a little time to cool off; wait until you've had a chance to get your head straight. You need me, Brook. Even if you won’t admit it. For one thing, how will you support yourself?”
“How will you handle prison, Clark?” Her voice was firm. “Or would you like to work out a settlement?”
“You wouldn’t!” he gasped. “You’re my wife. I’ve told you how sorry I am. And I’ve told you, you were never, ever supposed to be hurt. You wouldn’t really send me to prison, would you?”
“It depends on how much grief you give me over this divorce. I just want it over with as soon as possible.”
“I guess there's nothing I can do about it. You've got me backed into a corner, over the proverbial barrel. You’ll probably take everything I’ve worked so hard for. All gone, just like that.” Clark didn’t try to hide his bitterness. “I never pegged you for a gold-digger; but I never figured you’d spread your legs for some stranger either. Hell, I guess it was more than just one, wasn't it? How many were there, Brook? Remind me again, exactly how many men did you do?"
Every word was a blow to Brook. Outrage, anger, and hurt rose in her like bile. She gripped the phone hard, trying to speak around the painful lump in her throat. "You bastard. I never realized until this moment how cruel you are."
"
I'm
cruel? You're the one who wants the divorce, not me."
"Clark, I can't think of anything I want more at this moment than to never be associated with you again." Brook gritted her teeth. "What do you say we steer clear of the personal assaults for now? Let's just deal with the practical side of things."
There was a pause, during which Brook could hear Clark breathing into the phone.”
“Fine. Well,
practically
speaking," he finally said with great sarcasm, “you still sound fairly hostile toward me “So, I'm guessing you'll bleed me dry; take every fucking thing I own.”
“I need only enough to get by on until I get a job. Trust me, I don’t want any of your things,” Brook said. “All I want is to be free of you. That’s it. If you want to keep your freedom; then give me mine. Otherwise, you will lose it all, everything.”
She ended the call without waiting for his response.
Chapter 55
Denise noticed the change in Lance’s posture, observed the sorrow in his expression. She shook her head before approaching the counter. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but Emily said she had seen him outside the convenience store with a pretty blond lady a few days earlier. Something must have gone wrong. She had no idea what, but his appearance spoke volumes. Denise was curious, but she would never violate his privacy with nosy questions.
“I sold another sculpture, Lance,” Denise said. He said nothing, simply accepted the cash. “Hey, how about a chocolate almond cookie? Betsy just brought ‘em in; they’re fresh. These things sell out in one day, you know; they’re so delicious.”
He shook his head.
“It’s on the house.”
“No thanks.” Lance tucked the money in his backpack and turned to leave. “You don’t have any of those prepaid cell phones, do you?”
“No, we don’t carry those. You might try at the hardware store.”
Denise watched him go, her warm brown eyes sympathetic. He looked like his heart was broken, she thought as she bit into one of Betsy’s cookies, barely tasting it as she watched his truck pull from the parking lot.
The clerk in the hardware store looked up from a magazine she had been reading and nodded at Lance as he entered. He saw what he was looking for on the end of the aisle close to the front of the store. Taking it off the display, he stared with unseeing eyes at the prepaid phone in his hand as his thoughts waged an internal debate.
I could call and tell her I have a phone, just in case she ever wants to contact me. Just in case things don’t work out for her in Denver.
The clerk at the register glanced over at him and then returned to her magazine.
I could tell her I bought it because she told me I ought to have one. Just keep things light until I test the waters. But maybe she won’t want to hear from me. Maybe she’s trying to forget me.
He wrestled with his impulses.
What if she’s happy to be home with her husband? What if my call just messes things up for her?
Finally, he put the phone back on the rack and left the store empty-handed.