Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,91

for sale. She still intended to destroy it.

Mr. Bartlett had left the house shortly before noon. They’d taken a break for lunch in town, where they’d run into Anamaria and her sister-in-law, Jessica, who had promptly invited Clary to join their kids for a play-day at the library. Macy had agreed because the child needed a break and time with kids her own age. Besides, this afternoon the primary thing on the schedule was getting Mark’s office and the nurseries packed up.

“Where is Stephen?” Brent asked when they returned to the house.

“He had things to do.” What things, she’d wondered all morning, and did they involve her? Conceit to think that his entire life revolved around her now when a week ago he hadn’t known she existed. But she couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that she was the reason for his absence.

As she set her purse on the counter, Brent wrapped his arm around her. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you. You’re a grown woman. You don’t have to sneak out in the middle of the night to visit your boyfriend.”

Her face turned deep red, making both him and Anne laugh. “You’re such a good girl,” Anne said, pinching her cheek on the way past.

“You know, he could have just spent the night here.”

Macy didn’t mention that the point had been for her to get out of the house. She didn’t need to, since Anne scrunched up her face. “New lover in worthless husband’s bed? Eww.”

Her cheeks burned hotter, and she felt the need to pull her shirt from her throat to ease the constriction. Problem was, the scoop-neck tank was nowhere near her throat.

Anne laughed again and hugged both of them. “No more teasing about cute little nerd vet. Let’s get to work. Where do you want me?”

Three rooms on the agenda, and Macy couldn’t bring herself to set foot in two of them. Something must have shown in her expression because Anne’s own expression turned serious, her voice gentle. “I’ll take care of the baby’s room, okay?”

All she could manage was a grateful—and guilty—nod. Stephen was wrong for even considering bad things of Brent or Anne. They were good people who loved her and showed it every day. She would accept it was Mark’s ghost haunting her before she’d believe it could be either of them.

When she walked into Clary’s room five minutes later with an armful of packing material, she realized how tense she’d been by the sudden ease that flowed through her. Her shoulders and neck relaxed, her gut unknotted and the taut lines across her forehead went away. The room smelled of her daughter, powdery, sweet, innocent, and she swore if she closed her eyes, giggles and soft snores would echo off the walls.

She was sorting baby clothes when a distant ring sounded. Her hand automatically went to her pocket, where her cell phone sat silent. A moment later Brent called up the stairs, “You just got a hang-up, Anne.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Anne passed the open doorway on her way to the stairs. “Can you toss it up to me?”

“What if it breaks?”

“Are you doubting my ability to catch? Or yours to throw accurately?”

Macy smiled as she started folding a pile of spit-up-free clothing and stacked them in a box, then immediately her mouth slipped into a frown. What if Stephen wasn’t wrong? What if it was her brother or her sister-in-law, or both of them working together? What if they’d decided she wasn’t fit to have Clary on her own? If they’d decided they would rather have her daughter and their money than have Macy in their lives?

Could Brent sell her out for money? Could Anne?

If either of them were guilty, she would be devastated. But devastation healed. She’d been there before with Mark, with the baby, and she’d made it back. Well, almost back. She would recover, but she would be, oh, so much sadder for it.

The cell phone rang again, this time just down and across the hall. Anne answered quickly, sounding as breezy and carefree as ever. That was one of the things Macy admired about her. No matter how grim life was, she always sounded as if it were good. If you could pretend it, you could be it.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Anne was saying. “I left my cell at the house when we went to lunch. What do you need?”

Where was Stephen? Macy hadn’t thought to ask him how long his business would take. It was amazing how much

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