Last Whisper

by Carlene Thompson

  She sighed. She would have been frantic if she’d found any sign that Harry was involved with Stacy. At the same time, she couldn’t stifle her disappointment that she’d been wrong. Of course, just because Harry hadn’t dared to pursue his infatuation with Stacy in this apartment—the apartment of a woman whose husband was a police detective—didn’t mean there was nothing going on between them. But Eunice couldn’t imagine Harry springing for a motel room or Stacy meeting him at one for a passionate afternoon tryst. Actually, now that Eunice had satisfied her curiosity about Stacy’s apartment and seen the photo of her with Jay, she felt silly for even thinking that young, shapely, pristine Stacy would have anything to do with overweight, sloppy Harry.

  Eunice glanced at her cheap watch and saw that she’d spent more time in the apartment than she’d intended. Harry would be back in half an hour, maybe sooner. If he caught her up here . . .

  Eunice hurried across the living room and had her hand on the doorknob when she heard a footstep in the hall. Oh God, she thought, her eyes darting around the room. Where could she hide? The pantry in the kitchen? The closet in the bedroom? She nearly fainted when someone banged on a door. Then, slowly, she realized the banging was on Brooke’s door, not Stacy’s. After a moment, someone pounded again, this time even harder. “Brooke, I know you’re in there!” Robert Eads, Eunice thought. He was just a notch below shouting.

  If I was in there, I sure wouldn’t open the door, Eunice mused. But she wasn’t in there, thank goodness, and neither was Brooke. It wasn’t usual for Eunice to feel protective of anyone besides herself, but Brooke had taken time to inquire about the seriousness of Eunice’s diabetes, to offer to do anything she could to help, and to inquire after her health at least once a week. That made Brooke okay in Eunice’s mind. Even Harry didn’t show that much concern, although he was good about giving her insulin injections, even if he grouched about it sometimes.

  Robert pounded on the door again and then let out a full-fledged yell: “Brooke! Dammit, open the door!”

  Eunice cringed. Robert was a big man—at least six foot two—and muscular. Could he actually beat down the door? He wouldn’t find Brooke, but God only knew what damage he might do to her apartment. And that sweet little dog was probably in there. Eunice liked Elise, who was gentle and always licked her hand. Plus, the longer Robert stood out in the hall, the longer Eunice stayed trapped in Stacy’s apartment, and Harry would be coming home soon.

  The phone on an end table rang and Eunice literally jumped at least two inches off the floor. Apparently Robert heard the ringing, too, because he stopped shouting and pounding. Another ring. A third ring. Then the answering machine flipped on. Stacy’s slightly husky voice cooed, “Hello there. This is five-five-five one-two-two-two. We’re not in right now, but if you’ll leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you just as soon as we can. Have a simply fabulous day.”

  Robert remained silent, although Eunice knew he must have realized he wasn’t listening to Brooke’s machine. “Lila?” a man’s voice asked. “Lila, you know who this is.” Lila? Oh great, Eunice moaned inwardly, a wrong number. A violent wave of frustration washed over her. Now she’d be trapped in here even longer because of a stupid wrong number. “What you’re doing is wrong.” The male voice took on a plaintive note. “You’re doing it out of pain.” Eunice frowned. Was the man crying? “Lila, I do love you. I didn’t realize how much because I was a fool. But I’ve learned things, had time to think. . . .” He trailed off pathetically and Eunice thought with relief he was going to hang up. Then he said in an incredibly strong voice, “But my love for you doesn’t mean I’m just going to leave you alone like you want.” The line went dead.

  Robert was still quiet outside. Eunice knew the voice had been loud and he’d been just as riveted by the words as she. No wonder, Eunice thought. The guy on the phone sounded as frantic as Robert. He was obviously another spurned lover, just like the man beating on Brooke’s door. God, why hadn’t she ever met any of these crazy-in-love guys? Because I don’t look like Brooke or Stacy, she thought, or probably the unknown Lila, either. And probably neither one of them appreciated what it was like to be desired. They took it for granted, not knowing what it was like to be plain and unwanted like Eunice was. The thought made her mad, but only a little. Over the years, the hurt of being what she was had dulled for her. Still, Eunice wondered if Lila, whoever she was, would be moved by the words of the man who loved her. I’ll never know, Eunice reflected, because I have no idea who Lila is, and Lila will never get that message, anyway.

  Eunice hoped after the phone call Robert would leave and she could escape. Instead, she heard more footsteps coming up the hall toward Brooke’s apartment. “Damn!” Eunice whispered. She didn’t want Brooke coming face-to-face with Robert. On the other hand, Brooke might let Robert inside and then Eunice could make her getaway.

  Her hope of imminent freedom died when she heard another man’s voice. “Robert, what are you doing?”

  He sounded older than Robert Eads, Eunice noted. Older and angry.

  “What’s it look like?” Robert snapped. “I’m trying to talk to Brooke, but she won’t open her door.”

  “Did you happen to notice her rental car isn’t in her parking space? Or were you so hell-bent on seeing her that you didn’t notice anything else?”

  “She could have parked the car somewhere else. She didn’t come to work today, did she?”

  “No, but I gave her the week off. I told you that.”

  I gave her the week off? Eunice frowned. The man talking to Robert must be Aaron Townsend, who owned Townsend Realty, where Brooke worked.

  “I have to talk to her,” Robert said, pain edging his voice.

  “You already tried that. She doesn’t have anything else to say to you. I’m telling you, Robert, leave her alone. Quit harassing her before there’s trouble.”

  Mr. Townsend sounded really hot, Eunice noticed. He wasn’t giving advice. He was making a threat. What was the deal? Was Aaron Townsend in love with Brooke?

  “Before there’s trouble?” Robert repeated. “There’s already been trouble. She saw us. Then you got that call and that letter about you and me. They were from Brooke. She’s heartbroken. I know it. But if I could just reason with her, then maybe . . .”

  “Then maybe what? She’ll suddenly understand how you deceived her? Women aren’t made that way, Robert. If you keep up this behavior, you’ll just make her more furious.” Mr. Townsend’s voice had softened. He was cajoling Robert, trying to work him into a better mood. “Come on, Bobby. Let’s go get a nice lunch. I promise you’ll feel better after a glass or two of wine. Forget Brooke Yeager. She’s not worth all this uproar, darling.”

  Darling? Eunice almost repeated the word aloud. Had Aaron Townsend just called Robert darling?

  “Okay.” Abruptly Robert sounded like a little boy.

  “Excellent!” Footsteps sounded as the two men retreated down the hall. “We must go somewhere with a good wine list!”

  As she heard them headed for the elevator, Eunice could have gotten down on her knees and thanked God if she’d had time. She waited two minutes, counting out the seconds, opened Stacy’s door a crack, and saw that the hall was empty, then flew out of the apartment, making sure the door locked behind her.

  By the time she reached the lobby, Stacy Corrigan walked in. Sweat popped out on Eunice’s forehead and her heart felt like it was going to explode through her ribs. Stacy glanced at her, then strode in her direction. Eunice thought she was going to faint until Stacy asked nicely, “Are you all right, Eunice?” Eunice was so surprised at Stacy’s tone, she just stared. “You’re white as a ghost and you’re sweating. Did you eat lunch?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. No. I guess I forgot.”

  “You could pass out if you let your blood sugar level drop too much.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Eunice wished she could get her breath. “I’ll go eat something right now.”

  “Do you ne
ed help back to your room?”

  “No!” Eunice nearly shouted. “I’ll be fine.”

  Eunice almost shrieked when Harry walked in the front door. Two close calls in less than five minutes had nearly unhinged her. She fled to her apartment, feeling as if guilt and terror followed her like two little loud, laughing demons.

  2

  Robert had drunk too much wine at lunch. After he’d parted company with Aaron and headed home, he’d had another glass just because it seemed to relax him even more. He’d dozed for a while until the phone awakened him. The caller was his father. His father the minister. Oh God, Robert thought. Why today of all days was Dad calling?

  “Hello, Robert,” Reverend Eads said in the strong, mellifluous voice that rang out over his congregation each Sunday morning. “I haven’t seen you for almost a month. I was beginning to worry.”

  “I called you a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Hearing your voice over the phone isn’t the same as seeing you, Bobby.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been to church, but—”

  “You’re busy. I know. And I’ve accepted that during this time in your life, religion isn’t one of your priorities.” There was no rebuke, no sarcasm, in Rev. Eads’s voice. Only kindness. “I wondered if I could talk you into coming to Sunday dinner. Your mother is planning a special meal.”

  “Would it be just the three of us?”

  “Well, I might invite another parishioner. Or two. No more.” One of the parishioners will be a young female Dad hopes I’ll fall in love with and marry, Robert thought. They’d been through this dance a hundred times. “I’m not sure, Dad. I have some work I was going to catch up on. . . .”

  “You can’t spare us just a couple of hours? It would mean so much to your mother and me, Bobby.”

  Robert had always thought if there were really angels who walked the earth, they would be like his father. The man was never demanding, manipulative, or selfish. Even now there was no note of pleading or whining in his voice, and Robert knew if he declined his father’s invitation, the man would not be resentful or angry—just disappointed. And disappointing his father was something “Bobby” Eads could not bear. “I’ll be there, Dad. What time?”

  “Wonderful! One o’clock, in case some parishioners linger to talk.”

  “Do you want me to bring anything? Maybe a cake or . . . a bottle of tequila?”

  “Tequila only if it has a worm in the bottom. I’ve always thought a dead worm lying in a drink looked so delectable.” Rev. Eads laughed. “No, Bobby, you don’t have to bring a thing except your charming self.” He paused. “Oh, by the way, Brooke dropped by this week.”

  Brooke! Robert felt as if a car had landed on his chest. Stabbing pain. Then numbness. He could only get enough air in his lungs to gasp out a breathy, “Oh?”

  “Yes. She came by to bring back those books I loaned her the last time you two came to dinner.”

  “Books?” Robert croaked.

  “Yes. The biography of George Herbert and the one on Chinese porcelain. The book about porcelain is so big, I guess it would have cost her a fortune to mail it. Of course, when I loaned the books to her, I’d hoped she’d return them the next time you two came to dinner.” Robert went blank and his father asked quietly, “Bobby, why didn’t you tell me you two had broken up?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” Robert could feel the pulse pounding like a jackhammer in his abdomen. “I guess I didn’t think you’d be that interested.”

  “You didn’t think I’d be interested? My word, Son, I was quite impressed with Brooke. I’d hoped . . . well, you know what I’d hoped. You’ve always been elusive where girls are concerned, but—”

  “Elusive!” Robert burst out. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Robert, your language! My goodness, I only meant you’ve never seemed to have a serious girlfriend.”

  “But I have. Lots of them!”

  “Well, I guess you’ve been keeping them a secret, then.”

  “Secret? I don’t have any secrets!”

  “Son, what’s gotten into you?” Reverend Eads asked, his voice sounding genuinely concerned as well as baffled. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine!”

  “You’re sure? You sound overwrought. Is it grief over your breakup with Brooke?”

  Grief? Terror was more like it. And she’d gone to his parents’ house? Spoken to his father? Had she implied something about their breakup?

  Robert closed his eyes and forced himself to say casually, “Did Brooke say why we’d broken up?”

  “She said something rather evasive and seemed a tad embarrassed. I thought that must be because you had broken off the relationship. But it was kind of her to make sure I got back the books.”

  “Yeah, kind.”

  “She only stayed for a few minutes. Didn’t even come in the house. She said our house was on her way to another house she was showing. It was clear she hadn’t come here to talk to me about you, if that’s what you’re worrying about. I’m quite sure Brooke isn’t the type who would enlist me and your mother to help her win you back.”

  “No, she wouldn’t,” Robert said weakly.

  “So you just show up for dinner and after you’ve had a fine meal, we’ll have a good, long talk. If you’re upset over Brooke, perhaps I can help.”

  “Oh, I doubt it.”

  “We’ll see. In any case, I’m looking forward to Sunday dinner. I’ve missed seeing my son’s handsome face.”

  “Yeah, well, bye, Dad.”

  Robert hung up slowly, depression pressing down on him until he felt as if he were going to hit the floor. He’d been in his early twenties when he’d finally admitted to himself that he was homosexual, but he’d vowed that his father would never know, not because he would turn his back on Robert, but because Reverend Eads would find homosexuality wrong, deeply wrong, and he’d be crushed. He also would be desolate that his only child would never produce the traditional family. The reverend would pray for compassion and acceptance, but he would be ashamed, especially knowing how many of his parishioners felt about the subject. Robert would shame his father, the man he’d looked up to, almost idolized, all his life, and that Robert could not bear.

  He thought back to just a few weeks ago, when life had seemed smooth and good, at least as good as his life could be considering the amount of guilt that had taken root and bloomed within him for the past ten years. He’d been working at Townsend Realty, where he’d met Aaron and their affair had begun shortly afterward. Worried that others in the office might catch a stray, revealing glance between them or an irresistible caress of hands, Robert had decided he must start seeing a female. He also wanted to make sure everyone knew he was involved with this woman, which to him meant not just talking about a woman he was dating but actually having people see him with her, particularly the people at work. After all, hadn’t Aaron done the same thing with Judith Lambert until their heated breakup last year? It was a good plan, sans breakup.

  Aaron didn’t often make mistakes, but picking Judith as his “beard” had been a blunder. Robert intended to be a bit savvier and choose a woman neither so possessive nor as unrefined as Judith. He had known Brooke Yeager since before her mother was killed, and Brooke’s family had attended his father’s church. Robert had always liked Brooke, even when she was just a kid, and she’d grown into a fine woman—the kind of woman his father would be thrilled Robert was seeing. She was young, attractive, and classy. He’d even recommended Townsend Agency to her when she was looking for a job. She’d seemed the perfect choice for a “girlfriend.” They’d dated for three months and gotten along well, even if their relationship had remained on the passionless side. Brooke didn’t seem to mind.

  And then she’d returned to the office late one night to pick up some papers she’d forgotten and found Robert and Aaron half-naked on the leather couch in Aaron’s office. Everyone had simply frozen, eyes wide, mouths open, stunn
ed into complete silence and immobility. Finally, Brooke had said in a tinny voice, “Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here,” and vanished out the office door. Robert had tried to call her later that evening, but she hadn’t answered.

  She appeared at work the next morning, looking as calm and put-together as usual. She’d made no sign that there was trouble between them, thanking him politely when he brought her coffee and a doughnut, managing stiff little smiles for him throughout the day. No one who didn’t know them well would have guessed anything was wrong. And later, when he’d attempted to talk to her, to explain his situation, to apologize for hurting her, she’d simply said mildly, “Robert, there’s no need to say a word. I understand, now, from the beginning of our relationship until that night I saw you with Aaron. I don’t appreciate being used, but maybe everyone uses someone occasionally. At least we had some good times together. Let’s just remember those and let the matter drop for now.”

  Let the matter drop for now? That phrase had frightened Robert to the core. What did she mean? Did she intend to do something later? That’s what it must mean, because he’d been certain she was in love with him. She must be crushed. Heartbroken. Furious. He would have understood if she had screamed and cursed at him. It was her silence that scared him, that made him certain she was planning some kind of revenge. And then Aaron had gotten a weird call last week. He claimed the voice was unfamiliar, but Robert was sure the call had come from Brooke, disguising her voice as she asked, “Been seeing anyone new lately?” The words terrified Robert because he thought Brooke meant not only to blackmail Aaron but also to tell everything about Robert, especially to his father. Next Aaron had received a letter—a letter taunting Aaron about his relationship with Robert and “wondering” what Mrs. Townsend and Reverend Eads would think.

  And now Brooke had “dropped by” to see Rev. Eads. “Oh God,” Robert moaned. She couldn’t just have been returning books. He knew it. There was a deeper reason. Her plan, whatever it was, had begun. She was trying to torture him.