The View from Alameda Island - Robyn Carr Page 0,117

him. She blocked his number—he tried to call her back and was informed by a tinny mechanical voice that a call from his number wouldn’t go through.

He threw things for a while, not caring. Housekeeping could clean it up when they serviced the house.

He had trouble sleeping, so he drank. Not too much, just a few. The next day was just a clinic day. The cleaning lady called his cell phone and asked, “Dr. Delaney, there’s broken things in the dining room! Like an earthquake!”

“Oh yeah. Sorry about that. Mrs. Delaney was at the house having a little tantrum, throwing things. I meant to sweep up, but I had to get to the hospital.”

“Mrs. Delaney?” she asked.

“That’s what I said!”

He hung up and she called back. “You want to save any pieces?” she asked in her heavily accented English.

“No! Toss it!”

A few days later he had to cancel a surgery because he hadn’t been sleeping, he was exhausted and noticed a slight tremor in his hands. Low blood sugar, maybe. He checked his blood pressure and it was high, which he assumed must be Lauren’s fault. He prescribed himself something that should bring it down.

The lawyer called and informed him that a bench warrant would be issued, demanding his presence in court. “Let ’em try,” Brad said.

“Listen to me, Brad. They can arrest you. They can lock you up. They can leave you in jail until you cooperate with the process.”

“You said they don’t do that!” Brad argued.

“Judges would much rather see the two parties negotiate a settlement and get on with their lives, but if you refuse to negotiate, if you refuse to appear, there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

“Then I’ll get another lawyer!” he said.

“Doctor, you’re losing control. Can I recommend someone for you to talk to? I know a judge, retired judge, who is counseling now. He really helps disgruntled clients pull it together, get control—”

Brad disconnected.

A warrant was delivered to his office, demanding he appear in court. He didn’t. A few days later, he was arrested and taken to jail. He missed several surgeries. It took him a couple of days to untangle everything. He was visited at his office by the chief of surgery to whom he said, “Do you have any idea how vindictive a woman can be?”

“Maybe you should take a couple of weeks off and get this straightened out,” the doctor in charge said. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’re getting more agitated by the day and frankly, you could put the hospital at risk.”

Brad told the chief of surgery to go fuck himself. And for that his privileges at the hospital were suspended.

* * *

Lauren was returning from the store with several bags of groceries. She brought the first two into the house through the back door and left two more bags in the trunk. It was going to be a big night. Both of Beau’s boys were coming over as well as Lacey. There could also be a girlfriend or two, depending on who had to work. The weather was perfect for grilling and sitting out on the patio. It was the middle of May, Cassie and Jeremy would be coming home in a few weeks. Jeremy for a visit, Cassie for a longer visit as law school was on summer break, but Jeremy didn’t want to interrupt his research for too long.

She put groceries in the refrigerator and left the nonperishables on the counter as she moved toward the back door to get another load.

“Hello, Lauren,” she heard.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and actually grabbed her chest in shock. It took her just a second to catch her breath and reach for the phone. Brad was sitting on the sectional in Beau’s great room.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Please.”

That request was not polite or solicitous, but commanding as usual and so she ignored it and dialed 911. She rattled off her information as calmly and quickly as possible. “My husband is here, in the house, and I have a restraining order because I’m afraid for my life. Please come. Please help.” Then she put the phone on the counter, leaving the line open, so she would have two hands free to fight him off, if necessary. “How did you get in here?” she asked him.

“I followed you right in,” he said. “If you’re serious about keeping me away, I would expect you to be careful, but you’ve always been such a ditz.”

“What’s your plan?” she

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