Michelle didn’t dare breathe. “That must have been so hard. How—how did it happen?” She’d wondered so often about Rob’s mother and why he never talked about her. Surely if he was almost ten when his mom died, he had plenty of memories of her. But as long as she could remember, Mrs. Merrick’s death had always been talked about in hushed tones. And yet Michelle had never heard what could even be called rumors.
“She drowned.”
Her hand went involuntarily to her mouth. “How awful. I’m so sorry, Rob.”
He nodded and stared through the windshield, but it was obvious he wasn’t seeing what Michelle saw beyond the glass.
He was silent for so long she grew uncomfortable. But he was the one who’d first opened the subject. She risked another question. “Do you mind me asking…how it happened?”
He closed his eyes, obviously in pain. Without looking at her, he grasped for her hand and when he found it, he squeezed so tightly it hurt.
He started to say something, but his eyes welled with tears and he looked away. “I’m sorry, Mish. I can’t. I can’t talk about it. Not yet.”
Her heart swelled, feeling as if Rob’s pain were her own. Almost fifteen years, and the anguish was as fresh for him as if someone had just given him the news of his mother’s death. Was it her death that hurt so much, or did Rob’s pain have more to do with his relationship with his mother?
After a minute, he glanced up, looked directly at her. But that faraway look still resided in his eyes, and she wasn’t sure he was really seeing her.
“I’m sorry I asked, Rob. I won’t ask again. Not until you’re ready.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I…just can’t.”
She raised their clasped hands to her lips and kissed the top of his hand then unwound their fingers and pressed the palm of his hand to her face. “It’s okay. I understand.”
But she didn’t. Not really. How could someone carry such agonizing pain for so long? And how did he function the way he did, never giving a hint till now that there was so much pain, so much regret in his life? It made her wonder who else she looked at day after day, not recognizing the hurt they carried. Oh, God, please open my eyes. Help me to see people with Your eyes. Help me to comfort Rob.
Chapter 27
Rob let go of Michelle’s hand. He reached for the keys, revving the Pinto to life. He ran a hand over his face, wondering how big a fool he’d made of himself. He hadn’t meant to unload on her like that. Worse, he hadn’t exactly “unloaded.” No doubt he’d only left her with more questions than she’d begun with. He hated doing that to her. It wasn’t fair. He would have hated it had the tables been turned and she’d been the one keeping everything inside. He would have been thinking the worst and dying to know the secrets she was hiding.
Well, his secrets were bad enough. But it would be worse if he tried to tell her and ended up blubbering like a baby, the way he had the few times in his life when he’d tried to talk about Mom.
The very thought of her felt like a stab wound. Stop it, Merrick. Just stop thinking and drive. This isn’t about you. It’s about Becky Preston. Talk about hurting… It helped to get his mind on the reason they were in the car, the reason he’d found another excuse to be with Michelle. But even that involved a secret.
He hadn’t told Michelle—or his dad—that he was looking for another job. He’d tried to convince himself that he would be looking even if it weren’t for Michelle but he wasn’t sure that was true. Things had been fine at the Beacon, working for his dad, before Michelle Penn came along.
He knew if he got the job in Wichita and was finally free to pursue her the way he wanted to, he’d have to share things about his life that were hard to talk about. But he didn’t want Michelle to feel pressured by him. He didn’t want her to think she was obligated to go steady with him if he did manage to land another job. It was just something he needed to do. For himself. And it made no sense to tell his father and get him all worked up over something that might not happen. It would probably be at least a week before he could even expect a reply. Still, as much as he wanted to land the job on his own merit, he’d hoped the Merrick name might carry some weight.
For the first time, it struck him that being a Merrick might be detrimental. It was beginning to appear that his father had exaggerated his importance in the newspaper world. They were only a small-town weekly, but Robert Merrick Sr. had served on several industry boards and the Beacon had won many awards—both state and national—over the years. But maybe that meant nothing—for Robert Merrick III anyway.
“You okay?” Michelle’s voice broke through his pathetic, self-absorbed thoughts.
“I’m fine. And I promise we’ll talk about—everything—some day soon. The question is, are you okay? Does your arm hurt? Why’d you take off the sling?”
She wiggled her arm and tried to hide a wince. “It hurts a little. It’s probably going to be stiff. But I think I’ll live.” She grinned.
“That’s not funny, Michelle. You’re lucky to be ‘living.’ I don’t think you realize how serious this whole thing was. If anybody should have taken that bullet, it’s me.”
“That’s ridiculous, Rob. Mack is the only one to blame here. He’s got major issues, and he needs help. That has nothing to do with us anymore, except when it comes to Becky.”
“Okay.” He wouldn’t argue with her. “Speaking of Becky, let’s go see how she’s doing.” He put the car in gear and drove on up Donner Avenue.
* * *
It was beginning to get dark, and the lights were on in the Preston house. Michelle led the way up the porch steps, trying to figure out why the place looked different. Then it struck her. Someone had raked the yard and swept all the leaves off the sidewalk in front of the house. The porch, too, looked freshly swept. Becky had mentioned that she was having trouble keeping up with the yard with Mack in jail, since that had always been his department. Had Mack raked leaves before he came and shot up the Beacon office?
“Do you think I should go back and wait in the car?” Rob tucked his hands into the front pockets of his bell-bottoms. “I think I make her a little nervous.”
“No. Stay. I think you won her over the night we babysat.” She winked. “Especially after she found out it was your idea.”
“You told her that?” He gave her a look. “Okay. But…you do the talking.”
“Gee, thanks.” But she stepped in front of him and knocked on the door.
They could hear someone moving around inside. The porch light came on and the door opened a crack. Becky peeked out at them.
“Becky? It’s me…Michelle. Rob’s here too. Rob Merrick. Can we come in?”
“What do you want?”
Rob nudged her then aimed his words at Becky. “We’re not trying to get a story.”
Michelle hadn’t considered that Becky might suspect that. “Oh! Becky, no… We’re here as friends. This has nothing to do with the paper. We—we’re just worried about you. Is everything okay?”
The door opened another crack, and Michelle took a tiny step backward, not wanting Becky to feel threatened. Even in the dim light from the porch lamp, she could see that Becky’s eyes were swollen and red. Michelle looked closely, trying to see whether her face bore bruises, but it looked like the damage was only from weeping.
“Is there anything we can do to help? Can we just come in and talk?”
The door swung fully open and Becky stood aside while they came in, looking around the living room.
“Is Eden in bed?”
“Yes. I put her down early. She’s pretty confused about everything that’s happening.”
Michelle reached for Becky, wrapping her in a hug feeling the swell of Becky’s pregnant belly between them. “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve had to go through.”
“What was he thinking?” Becky sobbed. “He’ll never get out now. At least not before Eden’s all grown up. And this baby…”
Michelle just held her, not havi
ng a clue what to say. She knew Rob was probably thinking the same thing she was: it was for the best that Mack Preston had been locked away. It might have been Becky or Eden he hurt. Next time it likely would have been, given the anger Mack must have inside him to do what he’d done at the Beacon today.
Rob cleared his throat. “How about if I put on some water for tea?”
She could have kissed him.
“Okay,” Becky said, shrinking from Michelle’s embrace and slumping onto the sofa.
“I’ll go help Rob.” Michelle patted her knee. “I’ll be right back with some tea, okay?”
Becky looked up at her and gave a pathetic try at a smile. “Thank you. For coming. I feel—so alone.”
“You’re not alone, Becky.” But she knew even as she spoke the words that Becky was alone. Still, she tried to be positive. “We’re here for now. We’ll do everything we can to help. You okay if I go help Rob?”
She nodded. “Yes. Go. I’m fine.”
Rob was opening cupboard doors one after another. “You don’t know where she keeps the mugs, do you?”
“No, but I’ll help you look.” Their search turned up two mugs and a tin cup with a handle that would serve the purpose.
“Do you know if she takes sugar?”
“Yes, I think she does. Maybe two spoonfuls?” She remembered Becky stirring sugar into her cup when they’d had tea that day.
When the tea was brewed, Rob carried two mugs, and Michelle carried her own into the living room. Becky sat on the sofa with a sleeping Eden in her arms. Michelle hadn’t heard her go upstairs and get the little girl.
“Man,” Rob said. “She’s grown just since I saw her the other night.”
“Yeah, they do that,” Becky said drily before taking a sip of the steaming tea.
Michelle decided to face the elephant in the room head-on. “Do you know why Mack brought a gun to the Beacon office?”
Becky closed her eyes and sighed. “We had a fight. Mack accused me of calling the Beacon with the story. He—he found out you two babysat for Eden that night, and he put two and two together and got five.”
That explained a few things. “Do you think he was just trying to…scare us, or—?”
“I don’t have a clue what he thought. He’s— Jail changed him. And I don’t mean in a good way. He was so full of anger. He hated everybody. Thought everybody had it in for him. I don’t know how to handle him.”
“Did he—hurt you again? Or Eden?” Rob asked gently. He reached over and smoothed a palm lightly over the little girl’s head as she lay sleeping on Becky’s lap.
Becky shook her head, and her forehead wrinkled. “No. That’s what’s weird. He hasn’t laid a hand on me since he got out. But he’s…paranoid. And seething with anger. You can almost feel it. And I guess…he finally blew today.”
Becky shifted Eden on her lap, and Rob held out his arms. “Can I hold her?”
Becky handed off the sleeping child to him. “The police said nobody got hurt. They weren’t just telling me that, were they?”
Rob and Michelle exchanged a look.
“Did he hurt somebody? Did he kill somebody? You have to tell me.”
“Oh, no!” she and Rob said together.
“Nothing like that,” Michelle said. “Didn’t the police tell you?”
“Just that he’d fired the gun. And that’s why they had to take him in.”
“Yes. He fired a gun. Through the darkroom door,” Rob said. “Michelle…was in there at the time.”
Becky’s eyes grew wide.
“I’m fine,” Michelle said quickly, wishing Rob hadn’t said anything yet understanding that Becky would need to know at some point. “The bullet just grazed my arm.”
Becky put her head in her hands and rocked back and forth on the sofa. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”
“What? Why?” Michelle went to sit beside Becky on the sofa.
“Those pictures…” Becky looked at Rob. “He wanted those pictures you took. He had asked about them, and I had told him Michelle was going to get them back from you, that he didn’t have to worry about them. But when he asked about them today, I didn’t have them yet. I just never had the guts to ask again.”
“That was my fault,” Michelle said. “I told you I’d ask Rob about them, and I never did. Don’t blame yourself for that.”
“I should have just told him I destroyed them.”
“No, Becky. That wouldn’t have been true.” She didn’t want to sound like the moral police, but she also didn’t want Becky to think that lying about the photos would have been the right thing to do. Nor did she want Becky blaming herself, thinking she could have prevented what Mack did. “I should have asked Rob for the pictures like I told you I would.”
“The photos are in my files at the office,” he said. “I’ll destroy them first thing on Monday morning. I’ve never given them to anyone. There was only that one we used in the paper. But I would never use them for anything…bad.”
Michelle jumped in. “But I realize you didn’t know Rob back then, Becky. And I can understand why you couldn’t trust him. Why you wanted them back.”
“Well, it wasn’t worth someone getting hurt.” Becky’s voice cracked. “You could have been killed!”
“But I didn’t get killed, and…it’ll all work out.” She knew it was a lame thing to say. It may not work out at all for Becky and Eden. Mack would likely be in prison for a long time. And what would they do then? But she’d said it, and trying to take it back would only make matters worse.
Rob had distanced himself from the conversation and carried Eden to a dilapidated chair in the corner of the room. He sat there now, watching her sleep in his arms. Seeing him with the baby that way—the tenderness in his gaze as he looked down on the little girl—Michelle ached with a yearning she couldn’t begin to express.
Chapter 28
Mr. Merrick studied Michelle from across his desk. “How well do you know Becky Preston?”
She shrugged. “We’ve had lunch together a couple of times. I—I babysat for her little girl.” Had Rob said something about them going over to Becky’s on Friday night? She wondered if he’d told his father that he helped her babysit Eden. Of course that was before the whole mess with Mack Preston. Still…
She’d come in to work early this morning to make up the time they’d lost because of the shooting. She’d about jumped out of her skin when Mr. Merrick tapped on the wall of her cubicle, asking if she could please come to his office for a few minutes.
Now her boss looked at her hard. “You need to keep your distance from that woman. This thing could get messy, and the Beacon needs to stay unbiased. There can’t be any conflict of interest here. Do you understand?”
She hesitated. “I understand, Mr. Merrick, but here’s my problem. I’m about the only friend Becky Preston has in this town. And if she ever needed a friend, it’s now. Would it—would it be best if I quit my job? Because I’m not sure I can just walk away from my friendship with Becky. She’s going to need a babysitter so she can be at Mack’s—at her husband’s—hearings, and—” She stopped, shocked at what had just come out of her mouth.
There was no way she could afford to lose her job. She didn’t know of another job in Bristol that would pay enough to keep her apartment, but she meant what she’d said about quitting if he was going to forbid her from seeing Becky. She doubted he could even do that, legally. But he had to know she wasn’t going to take him to court over it if he did let her go.
Mr. Merrick looked at her sternly over the top of his reading glasses. “You’re talking about something that isn’t optional, Michelle.”
She backtracked through their conversation in her mind, not wanting to make his edict more serious than it was—but needing to understand what he meant. “Are you saying that my…having a friendship with Becky Preston isn’t an option? If I want to keep my job, I mean?”
“Well, now, don’t put words in my mouth. I’m not making a thr
eat, Miss Penn—”
“Oh, no. I—I wasn’t saying you were.” So she was back to being Miss Penn now?
He shifted in his desk chair. “I’m just letting you know that in the interest of what is best for the Beacon as we try to wade through the legal issues we’re facing with the attack… Well, it would just complicate things if an employee was…involved with one of the opposing parties.”
“But Becky Preston had nothing to do with her husband’s actions. I can assure you, she feels awful about what he did.”
“Be that as it may, you can understand why we can’t appear to have a friendship, per se, with Mack Preston’s family.”
“Well, no. I’m not sure I do understand…” She prayed for the right words. “And I definitely don’t see why my friendship with Becky would be construed as the Beacon’s friendship. I’m merely an employee. Why should my friendships have anything to do with your company? As long as it isn’t harming the company, of course.”
A muscle in his square jaw twitched. “And that’s exactly my point. It is harming the company. Or maybe you don’t view a man coming in, shooting up the office, and trying to kill you as harmful.” Though his words were pure sarcasm, his voice held no hint of it.
“I didn’t realize Mack was trying to kill me.” She didn’t believe Mack had targeted her, and she didn’t think for a minute that Mr. Merrick thought that either. It was an out-of-control temper that had prompted Preston’s actions. But her boss’s sarcasm was contagious. “In fact,” she said, “I think an argument could be made that Mack Preston came in here because of the photo that your son took and published.”
She instantly regretted dragging Rob into the conversation. But if what Becky said was true, Mack had brought the gun to the Beacon because of Rob’s decision to publish the photo taken that day Mack first went to jail for beating Becky.
Mr. Merrick rose and went to the door, opening it as he spoke. “I believe this conversation is over, Miss Penn. I’ll not bring the subject up again, but I trust you will do what is in the best interest of both of us as long as you are in my employ.”
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