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.
Chapter 56
The following week, Brook arrived for her second meeting with her lawyer. During the first appointment, she’d held back a lot, focused only on getting the divorce proceedings started. This time, however, she elicited a promise of confidentiality from him, and then laid out the ugly truth of her situation. She kept her eyes on him as she spoke, and watched the expression on his face shift from sympathy to disbelief, to shock, and finally acceptance. He picked up a pencil and began writing furiously on his pad, looking up at her from time to time and posing short questions to clarify some point or another.
After listening to Brook’s tale, the attorney sat mute for several long moments, staring down at his yellow legal pad. Brook had never seen Alan Brentwood speechless before. Finally, he laid his pencil aside and shook his head.
“This is incredible. Just incredible.” His expression was frank, open. “At first I couldn’t figure out why you’d want a divorce. I thought you would need your husband more than ever, especially now. But, this explains everything.”
“Yes. Yes, it does.” Brook pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes.
“I assume your husband will be employing Pendleton, Barkes & Clyde as usual?” Mr. Brentwood asked.
Brook nodded. “He always does.”
”I’ll contact Rupert Pendleton and sort out the details,” he said. “The Temporary Orders will guarantee you enough income to live comfortably until the divorce is final. Under the circumstances, I doubt your husband will object to anything you might ask for. Since the two of you seem to agree on the division of property and debts, there should be no problem. But I have to say, Brook, I believe you should go to the police with what you know and let him rot in jail.”
“Mr. Brentwood,” Brook said, then in a softer voice, “Alan. You said everything I told you would be confidential.”
“And it is.” The attorney sighed. “I’m just giving you my advice. You could come away from this with everything. And I do mean everything.”
“I don’t want everything, Alan. Clark simply got in over his head. He was like a kid on a roller coaster. Once he got on, he didn’t want to get off; he just kept going for the bigger thrill. I believe him when he says he didn’t mean for me to be hurt, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not vindictive; I’m just finished. He’s repulsive to me now. It seems strange I guess. But even though I can’t stand to be around him, I don’t really have any desire for revenge. I just want out with enough money to start fresh.”