Lindsey jerked to attention. Six kids? She stared with incredulous eyes at Noah. Did he really believe that? That the kids would tell? She nearly snorted and told him to wake up. They were most likely either victims themselves, or feared for their mother’s safety so much, they would never tell anyone. That was the secret and why domestic abuse was so effective. There was no one to tell. Imprisoned by shame and fear, all the victims remained silent on the matter.
Naturally, the first question on everyone’s tongue is, why would she stay? If she were being hit and hurt, why would she stay? Why indeed? She hated attitudes like Noah’s.
She nodded her head, pretending she was considering what Noah said, and not seething inside. He turned and disappeared into his surgery. Lindsey, meanwhile, grabbed the patient file and jotted down the address for Tessa and Dean Backerman.
****
Noah was amazed when Lindsey began successfully doing her job. Perhaps her fear of him firing her kickstarted some of her actual abilities. She was still clumsy, and at times, way to hesitant and unsure of herself, but she was finally showing more gumption. She almost got into an outright argument with him regarding the Backermans. Strange that she felt so many emotions about them. And something she didn’t even know for sure was true. She most likely just recognized a kindred spirit in Tessa: a woman controlled by her husband just as she was.
Noah wanted to like Lindsey until her damn cell phone rang, and no matter what, she always answered it. It was so annoying, he was tempted to throw her out just for that irritating habit. Who was she to judge Tessa, when she couldn’t even ignore one phone call from her husband?
Nonetheless, he was often distracted by her sheer physical perfection. She was really stunning, and as Penny pointed out, far too classy for the vet clinic. But she listened to his caveats and toned down her ridiculous, inappropriate outfits that seemed designed for a luncheon at the country club, rather than trying to scrub the exam room or wrestle an unwilling dog into a kennel.
She was nice. He’d give her that. Beneath all her strange, stiff, fake reserve, she was a nice person. What she wasn’t, however, thank God, was his permanent employee. He wasn’t sure he could take it. Neither the aggravation nor the incessant urge he experienced to run his hands through her perfectly coifed hair. He could also not stop staring at her body and wondering what she’d feel like naked next to him.
Married. She was so definitely married, he shook his head to remind himself. She was someone he’d never know beyond the safe confines of the vet clinic.
****
Lindsey took a deep breath and opened car door of her rented sedan. She waited for over an hour on the dusty ranch road until she saw the rusty pickup that Dean Backerman drove to the vet disappearing around the bend. Now was her chance.
The house was an old, two story farmhouse in dire need of paint and repairs. The yard was scattered with everything from inoperable vehicles to farm implements. Chickens ran about, their heads bobbing up and down as they pecked the dusty earth.
Lindsey already had sweat rolling down her cheeks from her nerves. Elliot would have turned his nose up in disgust and demand she somehow figure out how to not sweat like a normal human being. The thought of Elliot’s criticism made her stall. Imagine if he could see her as she was now! He had never seen her wearing casual jeans, or a long-sleeved white t-shirt with her large parka around her. Her hair was off her face in a hastily pulled ponytail. But the most amazing part was how easily she could transform back into a human being away from Elliot’s menacing presence. The mannequin she embodied with him, melted away. Although it probably would only be for a short while, she hadn’t felt better in years.
Perhaps that is what gave her the gall to do what she chose to do today.
She steeled her nerves and took a breath. She knew Tessa would deny everything, just exactly how she would react. Fear, shame, regret, panic, but most of all: denial. She expected to hear an absolute denial of any and all wrongdoings by her husband.
The door opened only a crack through which Tessa’s eye and a three-inch portion of her body showed. Her hesitation was pathetically evident and very real.
“Do I know you?”
Lindsey licked her lips. Of course, Tessa didn’t give their first encounter another thought. It meant nothing in her life. She barely even raised her eyes to look at Lindsey. And seeing Lindsey outside the usual context of Noah’s office wouldn’t make any sense to Tessa.
“Yes, you do. Barely. I work for Dr. Noah Clark.”
“Dr. Clark?” She shifted and the door swung open with a smidgeon more of trust.
“Yes, do you mind if I speak to you?”
The woman licked her lips and glanced down the road behind Lindsey, no doubt gauging how Dean would react to her uninvited presence.
“Please? It’s important,” Lindsey pressed.
“Did Dr. Clark forget something about Samhain?”
Lindsey frowned. Samhain? It must be the dog. “Ah, yes, this is concerning your last visit.”
Tessa nodded, finally relenting, and opened the door.
Lindsey kept her scan of their house discreet. Despite how messy the outside was, the inside was sparsely furnished, nearly barren, and so clean, it was painful. She understood. No doubt, Dean demanded it.
Tessa led her into the small, cramped kitchen, where she waved at Lindsey to take a seat at the table beyond it. Tessa asked her if she wanted coffee, and Lindsey accepted, merely to give Tessa something to do. Finally, Tessa sat across from her.
“So what did you want to say about Samhain?”
Lindsey glanced down at her fingernails. They were short and ragged. She hadn’t had a manicure or even painted them in an entire month. It was heavenly.
“I don’t know anything about your dog.”
Tessa’s head shot up and she stared with a perplexed expression at Lindsey. “Then, why did you want to see me?”
Lindsey inhaled a deep breath as she took out a business card she had previously prepared from her pocket and slid it across the table. “Are your kids around?”
Her eyes narrowed. “They’re at school. Except the youngest, who is napping.”
Lindsey nodded toward the card. “There is help.”
Tessa froze and her entire body stilled. Lindsey released a breath. She was right. Most women, who didn’t live in constant fear that they were about to be hurt, would have snatched up the card, being confused as to what Lindsey was talking about. What kind of help? But women trying to hide their misery were always sensitive to others perceiving it. She stared hard into Lindsey’s eyes as she shook her head.
“You should go now.”
Lindsey nodded. “I should,” she said quietly. “But that help. It’s for real. They’ll protect you. There are programs now. Even police protection.”
Her gaze shot right up to pin Lindsey. The timid wallflower vanished for a moment as she blazed with anger. “There is no help. There is no protection.”
Lindsey felt exactly the same way. But she didn’t have kids. “Does he hurt them?”
Tessa flinched. Lindsey waited a second, two, ten… thirty. Finally, she shook her head in denial.
“Do they see the abuse?”
She shook her head. “You have no business being here.”
Lindsey let out a shuddering breath. “I would have said that too.”
Tessa jerked in her chair as if Lindsey just shocked her with an electric volt. She raised her eyes and kept them directly on Lindsey. It was probably the most gumption or feeling Tessa had shown in a decade. “You don’t have a clue.”
Lindsey smiled softly. “Oh, but I do. I—used to be in the same situation.”
She should have said she was still in the same situation; but what if Tessa decided to tell anyone? What if she connected Lindsey was married to political hopeful, Elliot Johanson, and God forbid, told someone in the media? What if, simply, Elliot found out? No. She could not admit that it happened now.
“A woma
n like you? No. You don’t know.”
“Really? Why do you think I don’t?”
“You’re young, rich, and beautiful. You have no kids. How could something like this happen to you? Why would you allow it? My old man was just like my husband. That’s just how it is.”
“I know. I know it’s how it is. But there is help. And there is a way out.”
Tessa shook her head. “Yeah, sure. I have no a relative in the world and six kids. I haven’t worked in two decades. Where would I go? There is nowhere to go. And nothing else to do. I have to live with it because it’s better than the alternative.”
“The alternative?”
“Being homeless. Alone. And childless. So no, I don’t need your business card, lady.”
Lindsey nodded. “How bad does it get?”
Tessa stared her down before Lindsey lifted her sleeve past her elbow. A burn scar sliced the flesh along the seam of her inner elbow. “I’m a terrible cook. I don’t ever cook. My housekeeper does. But I tell people I burned myself on a pan. When really, my boyfriend at the time, didn’t like how I looked at his friend. He came at me with the hot pan and held it on my arm. It hurt. Very much.”
Tessa leaned forward and stared at the burn scar of where Elliot took a hot kettle off the stove when she was boiling water for tea. Holding her down, he rested the hot kettle on her bare skin. Lindsey took great pains to never show another soul the scar on purpose. If it did get discovered, she just said it was a silly cooking accident. There were many such silly accidents in her history.
Tessa nodded. She pulled her sleeve up. Fresh bruises encircled her arm. “I was just there and he was drunk. He didn’t like the dinner I made.”
Lindsey gently touched the bruises. “I’m sorry.”
Tessa shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Lindsey nodded as she stared out the window. It was. It really was exactly what it was. She again pushed the card. “Just take it. There is only a phone number on it. No stupid name declaring it a battered women’s shelter. How inane are the ones that have business cards? As if, what? Someone would risk leaving that incriminating item lying around the house? But you should memorize it, and then shred the card. Or hide it behind furniture, tucked in a baseboard; that’s where I kept mine.”
It was still there. It sat tucked nearly completely invisible in their woodwork: her handwritten phone number of the nearest battered women’s shelter. She put it there three years ago, hoping, praying and dreaming that someday, she’d fish it out and dial the number on it.
That, more than the scar, seemed to convince Tessa she knew what she was talking about. With a shaking hand, Tessa accepted the card. She glanced at it, reading the number silently, with her lips moving before she nodded and tucked it into her bra. For later. “Behind the baseboard is a good idea. Works for money too.”
Lindsey smiled a small, secretive smile. Yes, it did. She had some tucked there too. “Yes.”
Tessa suddenly froze and the color leeched from her face as Lindsey heard it too. A truck door slamming. They stared at each other in complete, stunned shock. Lindsey’s heart sank. Too quickly, Dean crossed the small yard and slammed open the door to stand threateningly in the doorway.
“Who are you?” He frowned as his eyes skimmed over her. Lindsey instantly jumped to her feet, as did Tessa.
“I’m, uh, Dr. Clark’s assistant. I forgot to give you the special discount Dr. Clark offered when you brought Samhain in. You were supposed to get twenty percent off. It was a promotional tactic Dr. Clark was running to encourage people to bring their pets in for vaccines. So, I just wanted to return the difference.”
Tessa’s eyes bugged from her head as she gasped. She was, no doubt, fully prepared for Dean’s wrath if he discovered Lindsey’s cover was a fake. Tessa pressed her lips together when she noticed the check Lindsey withdrew from her pocket. She did come prepared with a cover story. She knew how these things could go wrong. She held out the check for thirty-five dollars and ninety-nine cents, exactly twenty percent of what Dean spent on Samhain. His brow puckered as he took the check, glanced at it, and finally nodded. Lindsey’s shoulders slumped. Thank Jesus, he believed it. She owed Noah the money. She even used one of his checks. Fraud? Sure, but Lindsey felt she needed to do that today for some reason. She wanted to do it more than she wanted to do anything for herself. For some reason, saving someone else felt good, even if she couldn’t save herself.
“Tessa here just gave me some coffee to be polite. I hope you’ll forgive my stupidity in not ringing you up correctly. I was driving out this way, and decided to bring it in person instead of mailing it. I should go now and let you get back to your lives.”
He grunted, but eased his stance. Men like him loved to hear women blaming and using derogatory adjectives to describe themselves.
He moved aside as she ducked past him. Her breath only whooshed out of her lungs in a rush after she was in her car and speeding away from him. She shivered with revulsion. At least, Elliot didn’t stink or have yellow teeth.
Oh, yeah, sure, as if a nicer looking man beating on you was somehow better than an ugly one.
Chapter Nine
Noah started turning the knob on the front door when it suddenly pushed into him and he had to step back to make way for Lindsey. His mouth dropped opened in shock. What was she doing here? And why did she nearly force herself inside after several, continuous thumps against his front door?
She was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Her long ponytail swung behind her in uncharacteristic, girlish charm. It was Sunday afternoon and he had just finished grouting the guest bathroom’s new tile shower. He was slowly, but thoroughly remodeling each room in the old house, which was considered an historic landmark. He bought it as a crumbling mess, since he saw the potential under it all. Now, after five years of work, it was nearly restored to its long ago glory. Built of red brick on the outside, it had a balcony over the front door, which was extra tall and massive. He did the outside first. The grounds were all neatly landscaped and maintained. He had already fixed and totally redone the entire front façade of the house before turning to the inside. Next, he did the kitchen and master bedroom/bath before backing off and only remodeling as his budget and time allowed.
“I was right!” Lindsey didn’t spare a glance around. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes wide with determination. Noah slowly closed the front door behind her.
“What are you talking about?”
“The Backermans. I was right! He hits her.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw the bruises. She told me enough.”
He jerked to attention. “You mean you went out there? And what? What did you do? Ask her?”
“Well, yes, pretty much.”
“And she just told you that?”
“Not just. But yes. I saw the bruises, Noah. They were fresh. His fingerprints encircled her arms; they were all black and blue.”
He turned and started to pace as he pressed a palm to the base of his neck. Was she for real? “What possessed you to do such a thing?”
“I told you. I knew she was abused. And I wanted to give her the number of the local women’s shelter. It seemed the least I could do.”
He shut his eyes in frustration. She never got involved in anything, and now she decides to with this? “And what if Dean caught you there?”
“Oh, he showed up, but I had my cover prepared. I pretended I forgot to give him twenty percent off his vet bill. I said that we had a special running that day and I forgot to apply it to his tab. I even used one of your checks.”
“You wrote out one of my checks?”
She waved her hand dismissively. Apparently, that was no big deal for her. That was strange, considering how she could hardly decide on which brand of coffee to use. And now she decided to forge his checks?
“Yes. I’ll pay you back. But do you get this?
He focused his mind back on her. Dean. Abuse. And she went there all a
lone to confront it. “Did he figure out why you were there?”
“No. He’s far too stupid a lout.”
He nearly groaned out loud. “Why would you do such a thing?”
She frowned. “Why? Because I wanted her to know that someone witnessed her pain. Someone cared. Someone took a little bit of time to acknowledge it. And I wanted to give her a number to call, just in case. Even if she doesn’t ever. Just having it will give her some psychological defense. She has a secret to keep from him. She has a secret weapon even if she never uses it. It will, I’m sure, comfort her, to have that power. She knows she could call it, even though she most likely won’t.”
He pressed his lips together. Jesus, this charity was close to her heart! He had no idea she served the cause so passionately. He had the false impression she did little more than socialize at Elliot’s purposeful bidding. She dressed up pretty each day and didn’t even so much as clean her own house, or buy a roll of toilet paper; it was all done for her. Seeing how much she cared about domestic violence was somehow phenomenal. And heartwarming. It added a depth to her character and existence that he couldn’t have imagined finding in her.
“That was a dangerous thing to do. Don’t do it again. If he’ll hurt his own wife, just think of what he could do to you.”
She laughed a hollow, bitter laugh. “That’s just the point. He hurts his wife; there isn’t any reason for him to bother with anyone else.”
He eyed her warily. “Did she say what she planned to do about that number?”
“He interrupted us. She won’t call it. Not yet, at least. But, Noah, we must urge her to call it. We must help her. She has no family and no one else. So she needs our care. We have to press her to leave that situation.”
“We?”
She licked her lips. “Well, Jessie and Will have their baby coming. I can’t bother them with this! So I thought, maybe you would help me? Please, Noah, it’s like a dog getting run over right in front of you. Wouldn’t you go over and take a look to see if you, in all your veterinary glory, could help it? Or would you drive away and leave it splattered on the pavement?”
The Good Sister (Sister Series, #2) Page 11