“But I’m hardly perfect, either—especially now. Perfect’s highly overrated.” Her voice grew throaty. “But you’re my hero. I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me, so please be happy that I did this for you. For us.
“It’s been hard sitting back being the bigger person while people tried to tear you down year after year. Finally, in this small way I got the chance to share the man I know and love with the world. And I took it. So, please don’t be angry.”
Edward looked into her brave eyes, shinning with so much love and pride… How could he possibly deny her anything? This woman was his life. If his pride took a little hit, so be it. Noelle was pleased with herself. This article was just another small way she got to regain a little control of her life, and there’s no way he’d refuse her that.
He nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
She grinned. “That doesn’t mean I’m gonna show you any mercy when we play cards.”
Edward chuckled, so delighted by her spunk he couldn’t stop smiling. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Later, Noelle had proudly shown off her independence by playing Euchre. With her nurse holding her cards and with Jeff as her partner, they effectively beat him and Joseph. To Edward, this was the most perfect day of his life, eclipsing Jeff’s birth and their wedding by leaps and bounds. His love was getting better.
Edward watched TV in the lounge while they went through Noelle’s bedtime ritual, thinking about how they might be able to plan her discharge, when his cell phone bleeped.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Edward, its Skylar Kendall.”
“Skye. How’re you?”
“Fine. I know your weekends are precious, but I was wondering if you’d have time to meet me before you go back to Washington.”
“I can make time. Besides, I was going to call you. I have a long-overdue apology to deliver.”
“Not necessary.”
“About the feature—”
“I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to.” Edward paused. There was so much to say, so much he couldn’t put into words. “I read your article, and it was good. Embarrassing, but good. Thank you for including Noelle. Naturally, I’d have preferred keeping the miscarriages and the rationale behind our medical decisions to ourselves; however, my wife felt liberated and, well, her happiness and wellbeing mean everything to me. So thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“One question.”
“Yes?”
Edward heard a wealth of wariness in the one little word. “Why didn’t you include everything?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Someone requisitioned my father’s records at the Indiana State prison. That same someone has been talking to retired Indiana juvenile corrections case workers, after failing to access my sealed records.” He paused, letting that sink in. “I think you know what I’m talking about.”
“Nope, sorry. I included everything pertinent in that article. It was comprehensive and had all the emotional content I needed.”
“Thank you.”
Skye was quiet for several long seconds. He’d probably shocked her with his approval and gratitude. “You’re very welcome. Can we meet tomorrow in the St. Paul’s church parking lot? One p.m.?”
Edward stifled a chuckle. Was her brusque attitude covering her discomfort with praise, or was she simply that focused? “I can make it, but we can meet now if you’re in some sort of trouble.”
“No, I’m fine. And, please, don’t mention our meeting to anyone.”
“Okay.” Edward said to a dial tone.
What the hell was she up to now?
Chapter 34
As Edward rolled into the sprawling St. Paul’s church parking lot, he spotted Skye walking through the entrance to the columbarium. Turning away from the cars left over from the last Sunday mass, he swung to the right, parked, and walked over to her.
“Skye.”
“Hi, Edward. Thanks for coming.” The wind caught a lock of hair and blew it across her face. She pulled it back and tucked it behind one ear. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Skye led him to a navy Jeep Commander idling at the curb. Opening the back door, she indicated he should get in. “I hope you don’t mind, but you’re going to want a little more privacy for this conversation.”
Edward leaned over to see a pretty brunette in the driver’s seat. It was a little weird and cloak-and-daggerish, but he got in.
Skye got in the front and faced him. “This is my friend, Jenny Grant. Jenny, Edward Hastings.”
“Senator.” Ms. Grant nodded and held out her hand. Her expression was warm and open, her eyes serious. With just that one word, Edward detected a melodic tone to Ms. Grant’s voice he imagined could mesmerize a man. Her handshake was warm and firm. All business. Interesting combination.
“Nice to meet you.”
Jenny swung into the nearest parking spot. She turned off the car and swiveled in her seat, seemingly content to let Skye take the lead.
“I recognize the irony in what I’m about to say, but everything we say here is confidential, okay? It goes no further than this.”
Edward schooled his features to conceal his skepticism. Coming from Skye, that was ironic. “Okay.”
“Jenny’s a reporter at the Detroit Chronicle. The last few months she’s been working on pieces about designer babies, the embryo glut, and the embryo black market. She received a tip that led us to believe that someone in Mark’s company has purchased embryos for use in a high-profile client’s treatment.”
“Your source is mistaken. We’d never use ESCs in Noelle’s treatment—if that’s what you’re intimating—and Mark’s company only works with CBSCs.”
“Not completely true.” Skye told him about the ESC line Aviva purchased for diabetes research, and about the difficulties Mark’s had with it.
“Hence the need for new ESCs,” Edward followed her train of thought. Which would cause Mark some headaches, but just because Eileen got replacement ESCs didn’t mean she’d used them on Noelle.
“So far this is all speculation. Do you have any evidence?”
“The couple who donated their child’s stem cells for Noelle’s treatment only joined the company a matter of days before she was injured.”
“So? They weren’t old clients.” Edward’s grip tightened around the coffee.
Jenny spoke softly. “Senator, I did an extensive check. The donors listed, James and Shannon Connor, do not exist. We believe Eileen found embryos on the black market that were very good matches for your wife, bought them, fabricated the Connors and their background story, then started the cell line from the embryos.”
Edward struggled to order his scrambled thoughts. Embryos. Black market. Fake donors?
“That’s pretty far-fetched.” But possible. His stomach turned queasy. Shit. If Eileen used ESCs for Noelle’s treatment... Noelle would... Eileen knew...
“Senator, if it got out that you’d used embryonic stem cells in your wife’s treatment, nobody would believe it was an accident,” Jenny softly said. “Nobody would care that you’d been tricked.”
Edward scrubbed a hand over his buzzing head.
“She can breathe on her own now,” he muttered. He pictured Noelle in the dark the first night he’d found out. The soft, natural rise and fall of her chest. He looked first at Skye, then at Jenny. “It worked. She can breathe. Her shoulders tingle.”
“Senator. If this gets out, both your and Mark’s careers are in jeopardy.”
“Does Mark know?” Edward asked.
“I doubt it.” Skye shook her head. “Mark wouldn’t do anything illegal—or even ethically questionable. I wanted to tell him, but Jenny convinced me to talk to you first. We thought you’d want to be with us when we talk to him tonight.”
Edward washed a hand over his face. What the hell should he do? He placed his coffee in the cup holder before he dropped it. W
hat if Mark didn’t know? What would he do? He knew what he’d do in Mark’s place. He’d suspend Eileen immediately while he investigated. He’d lock her out of her office and keep her away from all patients until he uncovered the truth.
If it were true, Eileen would go to jail for a long time, and Mark’s company would be ruined. And all the good he’d done would be forgotten and all the future miracles his company’s research could spawn would never be. That couldn’t happen.
“Let’s not panic. We don’t know for sure that Eileen used ESCs for Noelle’s treatment. At this point, it’s pure speculation. There’s no need to alarm Mark yet. Let me contact a private investigator I know and have him do some digging. These are very serious accusations. We need proof. Solid, incontrovertible proof. We’ll go to Mark once we have a little more information.” He looked each lady in the eye. “Agreed?”
Jenny nodded. “If that’s the way you want to handle it.”
Skye frowned. “Mark should know. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be told immediately.”
“Actually, there is. We don’t have proof that what you suspect is true. So there’s no need to alarm Mark needlessly. The more people who know, the greater the chance of this accidentally getting out—or making people suspicious. And most importantly…” Edward shook his head, ruefully. “Mark’s terrible at keeping a secret. He can’t lie, and he can’t keep a secret. He’d never be able to act normally around Eileen while we investigated.”
“I hate not telling him,” Skye said.
“I’m not crazy about it either, but we’re protecting him. It’ll take my guy a week, ten days tops, to get us what we need. Besides… Mark is probably innocent in this, but Noelle’s like a sister to him. I can’t say with one hundred percent assurance that he didn’t go along with this for her. In which case, we have a whole different situation on our hands,” he claimed, counting on Skye to care enough to want to protect Mark.
Skye looked skeptical, then pushed out a deep sigh. “Okay. We’ll do it your way, but please hurry. I hate hiding things from Mark.”
Edward smiled with false bravado. “I’ll get my guy on it tonight and get back to you when he’s got something.”
Edward got out of the Jeep and then turned back to Skye.
She opened the window, and he leaned in. “Did you know all this before you wrote the feature?”
She nodded.
“Did you leave it out because you didn’t have evidence?”
Her gaze never wavered—not a flicker of doubt or guilt. “That and…because it’s private.”
Skye was too good of a reporter for that. Her work was intelligent and compassionate, but a certain ruthlessness was evident, too. “You included a lot of things that were private.”
“I live by the Hippocratic Oath.”
First and foremost, do no harm. The same reason she hadn’t exploited his childhood. The truth of that night would’ve sold millions of copies and made her career. He had to respect Skye’s restraint and integrity. He nodded.
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” Skye rolled up the window, and they pulled away.
Getting in the Escape, Edward slowly drove along Lakeshore Drive trying to absorb all they’d told him. Maybe Eileen had done it as a means of controlling a United States Senator, more than for any real hope for a scientific breakthrough.
Knowing Eileen, it’s more likely she’d gotten obsessed with Noelle’s case and the opportunity it presented for her to be in on groundbreaking research and hadn’t been able to resist getting her way—regardless of their wishes.
But if blackmail were her true motive, she’d quickly discover she’d run up against the wrong man. His grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
He would not be manipulated by any person, and he’d die before subjecting his wife to further pain.
* * *
Skye went to Faith’s to play with the babies for a few hours before heading home. She’d turned off her phone to preserve the little battery she had left until she got to her charger—at least that’s the excuse she told herself. The truth was, Skye deeply regretted promising Edward she wouldn’t tell Mark about their meeting. She was a competent liar when she had to be, but she hated keeping secrets from Mark.
Come to think of it, keeping Edward’s secrets was becoming an uncomfortable habit, though she had to admit the one about his childhood was her own fault. She’d worked hard and paid a pretty penny to find out what happened that night.
But she didn’t regret it. It helped her understand Edward in a way few probably did. Noelle undoubtedly knew, but Skye doubted Mark did. He might know Edward’s father had been an abusive SOB who beat his wife and went to jail for it, but she didn’t think Mark knew the whole story.
Edward had been born Edward Joseph Gellerman, son of Eve Hastings Gellerman and Brent James Gellerman. His mother had been an accountant and his father a pharmaceutical drug rep—until his drinking made it impossible for him to hold a job. Gellerman fiercely resented his wife supporting the family and blamed her for his inability to sustain a job. Hence the beatings.
The police were called to Edward’s home in the quiet middle-class Indianapolis neighborhood several times to calm his alcoholic father. The records documented a sad, obvious escalation of violence in the household until the night it stopped.
Gellerman had been drinking and began beating his five-month pregnant wife. From here the PI’s report was sketchy, and he pieced together bits and pieces of what must have happened.
The police were called to the house for gunshots fired, and when they got there they found Eve badly beaten, Edward with a black eye, and a drunken Gellerman with a gunshot wound in his thigh. Eve lost her baby boy that night, and her twelve-year-old son was arrested and sent to the juvenile detention center.
Shortly thereafter, Edward was released into his mother’s custody and Gellerman was charged with aggravated domestic assault and manslaughter. He only served ten of his fifteen-year sentence before pancreatic cancer killed him.
Eve buried her unborn babe, divorced Gellerman, got Edward’s juvenile records sealed, change her and Edward’s surname to Hastings, and moved to Grosse Pointe, Michigan, for a fresh start.
The last piece of the puzzle the PI uncovered was the most incredulous. Skye assumed Eve lost the baby due to the beating she’d received, but the death certificate determined the fetus died from a gunshot wound.
The only reason twelve-year-old Edward would’ve gone to juvie rather than into the custody of social services would have been if he’d been the one to fire the gun. Skye had been horrified to realize that in saving his mother’s life, Edward likely took his unborn baby brother’s.
That’s a heavy load for a kid to grow up with. No wonder Edward’s so passionate about protecting the unborn. It’s a penance of sorts.
But that was Edward’s tragic past. That secret was easy to keep. This one, not so much. Especially when she disagreed with Edward. Mark could be trusted. He’d never go behind his friends’ backs—for any reason.
The only thing that kept her silent this past week had been the truth that Mark was a bad liar. She didn’t doubt he’d be unable to hide his feelings from Eileen, and they required time for Edward’s contact to investigate. Skye picked up extra shifts at work under the guise of needing money for renovating her apartment to avoid Mark.
Not altogether a lie, the extra money would help pay down her construction loan, but still Skye was uncomfortable deceiving Mark. She checked her phone nearly hourly, hoping to find a missed call from Edward. Other days when she hadn’t kept busy enough and guilt preyed on her conscience, she’d had to turn off her cell phone to keep from calling Mark and confessing.
On day ten, Skye reached her limit. She was tired of avoiding Mark. Tired of the deception. Sitting alone in the dark watching a Harry Potter movie, her mind waffled back and forth, driving her crazy.
When she and Jenny had told Edward their suspicions, he’d been
so shocked, so floored. Skye was keeping something important from Mark. It was Edward’s secret, not hers. It involved both of them. But they had no proof yet. She was withholding critical information from the man she loved, and it was killing her.
Shoot. What a complete idiot. Couldn’t she learn from past experiences? Why had she ever made that stupid promise? After an hour of chastising herself, Skye slammed her head into her pillow. This ended tomorrow. She’d call Edward and warn him, but she was telling Mark tomorrow.
Chapter 35
Skye snapped her cell phone shut as Mark walked into the bar. He leaned close and gave her a kiss, then, with a flourish, presented her with a huge bouquet of tulips. “Hello, beautiful.”
“Hello, yourself.” She took the flowers and filled a wine decanter with water. Arranging them in it, she deposited the colorful flowers at the back of the bar with the three other bouquets. “You need to stop.”
“I still have some making up to do. You don’t like flowers? I’ll have to get more creative.”
“How about furniture? There’s this leather couch and kitchen set I have my eye on...” She backed away and smiled at the intrigue that lit his eyes. “Just teasing. We’re good.”
“Furniture. Okay.” Mark slid onto a stool and reached for the snack mix. “I can do furniture. So. What’ve you been up to?”
“Trying to get a hold of your best friend. Have you heard from Edward?”
“Not recently, but he should be in town for the weekend. Why?”
She threw the rag in the sink, plopped down on a bar stool, and blew out a deep breath. “I’ve left him about a half a dozen messages over the past few days and he hasn’t returned any of them.”
“Half a dozen? You don’t call me that much. What do you need Ed for?”
Shoot, Edward’s ignoring her messages had her so frustrated, Skye opened her big mouth when she shouldn’t have. “I...um...” She reached below the counter and pulled out a bag. “I got a little present for you.”
The Lives Between Us Page 38