Other than being gone more than they were around. Traveling through North America as full-time RVers, working in various parks as they went, going on their eighth year now.

“He doesn’t have an alcohol problem, has an easygoing disposition and is financially secure. He’s socially adept, confident and is clearly devoted to his family.

“All of this leads me to believe that something else is going on here.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, like Jeff thinks, Chloe is suffering from depression. She went from being a career person, managing a restaurant with the hopes of owning her own someday, to being a stay-at-home mom.”

“That was her choice. Jeff was happy to support whichever decision she made, to stay at home or keep working.”

“And maybe it was the choice she wanted to make, the one that she believes is best, but it’s an enormous life change. There could be some residual depression involved. And maybe subconsciously, Jeff is reacting to that. Maybe he’s more irritable with her because of it, which feeds her feeling that his anger with her is escalating...”

“I know that she loves her work at the Stand,” Ella said. “She’s exhausted, but clearly enjoys what she’s doing.”

Ella paused and then asked, “Did you ever meet him?”

He frowned. Wondering what he’d missed.

“The brother you were talking about. Guardian to the fifteen-year-old resident at the Stand.”

“Of course not. I have nothing to do with any of that. You know that.”

“You still get the reports.”

“Yes.” The place was his responsibility. Others did the work, but ultimately the buck stopped with him. He had to read the reports.

Ella nodded and sat back as their vegetable tray was delivered with a chrome bowl filled with dip in the middle of it.

As soon as her hors d’oeuvres plate was in front of her, she filled it. He watched, knowing before she reached where her fingers were going to land. Carrots, celery, broccoli and cauliflower. No peppers. Ever. The cucumbers weren’t peeled.

She passed them by just as he’d expected.

He paid attention. And when his study—of life, of situations, of people—presented choices, he made the one that made the most sense.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BRETT POURED HIMSELF a little more wine and topped off Ella’s glass, too, though neither of them had had much to drink, and looked out over the street of homes below them. Provincial, large and in pristine condition, the old Victorian homes stood tall and proud. And yet, intrinsically vulnerable, as well. To the weather coming in off the ocean. To a modern-day society that wanted everything to be new.

Homes that were similar to his own.

The plumbing was a challenge. Electricity had had to be rewired to be up to code and still had hiccups now and then. But there was affection in knowing the home’s eccentricities so well. Security and a kind of beauty that couldn’t be created overnight. Or purchased.

Like good art, he could enjoy their value.

And like good art, he could enjoy a moment sipping wine with a woman who, while young, had the wisdom of age and wore her value beautifully.

“You had a rough day today.” The words came as she was down to her last stick of celery. He’d shied away from personal conversation. But he was confident that they were on the same road where Jeff and Chloe were concerned, which to him meant that getting her to agree to the plan was no more than a formality at this point.

A presentation and acceptance that would end their meeting.

Taking a short breather from the business at hand was perfectly acceptable. Maybe even advisable to further the good working relationship they were establishing.

He wished he’d held his tongue as the shadows came back over her face. Why did he have such a propensity for hurting her? Almost as though it came naturally to him.

Old feelings of guilt and frustration filled him. Panic would follow. He knew the way it worked. Brett reached for a carrot. Took a sip of wine. Distracted himself long enough for the sensations to pass.

“I’m assuming you’ve read the emails,” Ella said while he was busy tending to himself.

“I haven’t seen anything since first thing this morning,” he told her. “As soon as the day’s meetings were over I headed to the hospital and then here.”

“Your mother didn’t text you?”

“No.” Pulling out his phone to check for any missed communication, he asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Lila must not have been in touch with her yet,” Ella said. “It’s not like it’s an emergency as far as the Stand is concerned. Not like we can do anything, and if we all got in 911 mode for every at-risk woman we dealt with, we’d never get out...”

“El...” He reached forward and touched her hand. As he’d done a million times before when she thought out loud before letting him know what was going on.

Getting ahead of herself, he’d always called it.

“I got ahead of myself, didn’t I?”

Every nerve in his system tightened as she voiced the words running silently through his mind.

“It’s Nora Burbank,” she continued, unaware of the discomfort he was feeling. The connection that had just been revealed to him.

Him. Her. Still of like minds.

He’d thought the divorce had taken care of that.

“What about Nora?” The woman Ella had brought to the Stand from the hospital, he reminded himself. Her infant was Ella’s patient.

“Her baby was released today, and she took him home. To their permanent home.”

“I thought arrangements had been made for her to live at the Stand.”

“They had. She didn’t tell them she wasn’t coming back. We wouldn’t have known at all, until she didn’t show up downstairs for her ride, if an employee hadn’t noticed the change she’d made to her address on the discharge papers.”

He frowned. “I’m assuming the High Risk team has been notified?”

“Yes.”

So there was nothing more they could do for now. Except add another name to the prayer list. Keep a close eye out. And hope.

“I can’t believe she did this, Brett. I don’t get it. She was desperate for help. And was so grateful when it was provided to her. She couldn’t have faked that.”

“I’m sure she didn’t,” he said, and it dawned on him. This was a first for Ella. Her first domestic-violence case. Her first case on the High Risk team. Her first flesh-and-blood introduction to the manifestations of the insidious disease.

“She loves that baby, Brett. Much more than she loves her husband...”

“But she’s a victim, El.”

“Not if she stays away from him.”

“That’s a misconception. She’s a victim whether she’s currently being abused or not. Much like an alcoholic is an alcoholic even when he’s not around alcohol. She’s mentally and emotionally vulnerable to his conditioning.”

“Brainwashed, you mean.” She was drawing on the table with her finger.

“In essence.”

“I read about some of that, but you should have seen her, Brett. She was so glad to have a way to take back control of her life...”

“She had moments where she was able to think clearly. But in the beginning, those moments will be less frequent than the ones where she feels out of sync with herself every time she goes against his conditioning.”

He heard the passion in his tone and sat back. Blamed the wine.

“I spoke with her as soon as I got to work this morning and was told of her plans. When she heard that child protective services had cleared them, she called him,” Ella was saying. “She said she wanted him to know that she hadn’t gotten him in trouble. That he was free and not being looked at anymore. She said that as soon as he heard her voice he started going on about how wrong he’d been, how sorry he was, how things were going to be different. He said it took her leaving him like she did to open his eyes and that from now on, she’ll be in charge of their son’s care. That he’ll do whatever she tells him from now on.”