The Hidden: A Novel of Suspense

E I G H T

CLAIRE MADE NO EFFORT to hide the injuries to her face. One corner of her mouth twitched—a smile that wasn’t a smile. “Pretty sight, aren’t I,” she said.

“I’ve seen worse,” Shelby said.

“I’ll bet you have.”

“What happened?”

“I could tell you I fell, but you probably wouldn’t believe me.”

“Did you fall?”

The faint nonsmile again. Claire shifted her gaze back to the sea, but Shelby had the impression she wasn’t really seeing the rumpled gray water. Different woman than the one who’d welcomed Jay and her last night. The anxious, overfriendly hostess was gone; this Claire Lomax was subdued, hurting, and more than a little scared. When she lifted one hand to finger her torn lip, it trembled noticeably.

“I like it out here,” she said. “Even in weather like this. There’s something … I don’t know, soothing about the ocean.”

Shelby said, “Look, it’s none of my business. I’ll just leave you alone—”

“No, don’t.” The blonde head swung back her way, a silent plea in the pearl-gray eyes. “I need somebody to talk to. Another woman who’ll understand.”

“What about your sister-in-law?”

“Gone. Packed up and left about an hour ago. I couldn’t talk to her anyway. Not Paula.” Claire sucked in her breath, blew it out as if it were smoke burning her lungs. “I didn’t fall and I didn’t walk into a door. You’re a paramedic … you know what you’re seeing.”

All too well. She’d borne witness to the aftermath of domestic violence too many times. Seen the smashed and bloodied faces, the broken bones and torn flesh; heard the screams and the angry accusations and tearful lies and fumbling, stupid excuses. Some people, most but not all of them men, reverted to animals when they were drunk or stoned or just plain out of control.

“When did it happen?”

“Last night, not long after you and your husband left.”

“What was the cause?”

“Brian thinks I’ve been having an affair.”

Shelby resisted asking the obvious question. Instead she said, “Were you alone with him when he accused you?”

“No. Gene and Paula were there.”

“Did Gene try to stop him?”

“Gene?” Claire laughed, but it hurt her mouth and she winced and cut it off. “He’s a lover, not a fighter. Besides, he’s got his own marital problems. You heard the way he and Paula were going at each other last night.”

“Yes.”

“Paula’s not going to put up with it anymore. That’s why she left this morning. Their marriage is over.”

And you wish yours was, too, Shelby thought.

She asked, “Is Gene still here?”

“For now he is. If he decides to leave …”

“You’ll be alone with your husband.”

“For the next three days, because he’s determined to stay through New Year’s.”

“And you’re afraid he’ll come at you again.”

A gull wheeling overhead let out a sudden screeching cry, as if it were mimicking a shriek of pain; the sound caused Claire to jump, raise one hand as if to ward off a blow. “God,” she said, “my nerves are shot.”

“Has he done this before, beat you up?”

“Three or four times the last year or so. He wasn’t like that the first few years we were married. He never touched me except when we made love. Then he … changed. Turned moody, distant. Angry all the time. He’s always been jealous, but now …” She shook her head, winced, and touched her lip again.

“What changed him?”

“I don’t know exactly. Job pressures, I suppose. The economy. He owes the bank a lot of money … he may lose his company. He couldn’t stand that.”

“That’s no excuse for taking it out on you.”

“I’ve told him that, more times than I can count. He doesn’t listen to me, he doesn’t seem to care what I think or feel anymore. All he cares about is his work, the environment, spending time in that house he built up on the bluff. He comes up here alone, sometimes for days on end. At least I think this is where he goes—he won’t tell me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was the one having an affair.”

“But you’re sure he isn’t.”

“Pretty sure.” The gull shrieked again; this time Claire didn’t seem to notice. “I used to love my life,” she said. “You know, married to a wealthy man, expensive clothes, jewelry, a nice car, trips to Mexico and Hawaii. Now … sometimes now I fucking hate it.”

Same here, Shelby thought. Sometimes.

She said, “You don’t have to stay with him.”

“I know. But if I leave …”

“You think he’ll come after you?”

“He might. He doesn’t like to lose what belongs to him.”

“A woman doesn’t belong to anybody but herself.”

“Tell Brian that. He’ll laugh in your face like he laughed in mine when I told him pretty much the same thing.”

“Stay, and he’ll keep on taking out his frustrations on you,” Shelby said. She couldn’t quite keep the anger she felt from threading her words. “Someday he’s liable to hurt you a lot worse than he did last night.”

“I know that, too. You don’t think I like being afraid, do you?”

“Then why don’t you leave?”

“I could tell you it’s because I still love him, that I keep hoping he’ll turn back into the man he used to be.”

“But it wouldn’t be the truth.”

“No. I don’t love him anymore, I’m scared to death of him.”

“Then get out before it’s too late.”

“And go where? I don’t have money of my own or anywhere to go.”

“There are battered women’s shelters.”

“I couldn’t stand a place like that. Besides, he’d find me and then things would be even worse—” She glanced up at the redwood-and-glass house on the bluff top, then gingerly eased herself off the shelf. “I’d better get back before he comes looking for me.” The faint, empty smile. “He’s liable to think I’m down here seducing your husband.”

“Claire …”

“Yes?”

“If your brother-in-law does leave today, think about going with him.”

“Oh, God, no, that’s the last thing I’d do. Brian wouldn’t allow it—it’d just set him off again if I tried.”

Shelby didn’t push it. Instead she said, “We’ll be here until New Year’s morning, if you want to talk again. Or need a ride anywhere for any reason.”

Claire blinked at her. “You’d do that for somebody you barely know?”

“My job is helping people in trouble.”

“Well … I appreciate it, I really do, but I’ll be all right. I can handle Brian when he’s sober. I won’t let him drink as much as he did yesterday.”

Famous last words. “The offer is good as long as we’re here.”

“Thanks.” Claire started away, stopped and looked back. “It’s helped, talking to you. I’m glad we met.”

Shelby watched her walk away along the beach in slow, stiff strides. My God, she thought, the things we do to each other, the things we do to ourselves.