Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Charline managed to make it home by eight a.m., racing from Trent’s house through gathering traffic.
She ran from her car to the back door, clattering up the porch to get out of the cold.
After getting so heated up with Trent, the cold air felt especially bitter against her skin.
She flew inside, closing the door with a rattle behind her, and hoped her mother was still sleeping.
The smell of strong coffee greeted her as she walked into the cozy, if old-fashioned kitchen to find Suzette sitting at the table with a mug and an almond croissant.
“You caught me. Sorry, but I can’t help my sweet tooth.” Suzette smiled and took a healthy bite. It made Charlie hungry. She hadn’t eaten at Trent’s, but she wouldn’t have time for breakfast now. She needed to shower and change.
“Where did you get it? Are there any more?”
Suzette laughed and pointed to a pastry box on the counter. “Diggins brought it. He spoils me. It’s like he’s the uncle I never had.”
“That’s fair since you’re probably like the niece he never had.” Charline, in spite of her better judgment, took one of the too-sweet croissants from the box and headed to the back stairs.
“You’re not sitting with me?” Suzette said. “I was hoping to hear all about your adventure in Chicago at the game. I watched on TV. It looked like a lot of fun. Was it cold?”
“I’ll tell you all about it tonight. I have to shower and change and get to work.
” Charlie left, but not before she caught the knowing eyebrow raise from her sister.
She felt the flush of embarrassment, knowing that Suzette thought she was having a whirlwind romance with the love of her life when it was the farthest thing from the truth.
Or at least, the love-of-her-life part was far from the truth. She couldn’t discount completely the whirlwind factor or the mind-blowing sex. She had no right to have sex with a research subject; she was out of control and ought to be ashamed. But she wasn’t.
Enjoying sex with a subject—John Doe—was too far down the list of things she ought to be ashamed of.
Stealing the EM-HGH-1 serum for her mother was the top of the list of shameful acts.
Taking Trent’s money for a place in the research protocol was second—though technically she didn’t take the money.
It was for the research, so she didn’t feel as bad about that one.
Then there was the fact that she was endangering Trent’s life by injecting him with the serum while he was playing heavy contact sports.
That should rank right up there on the list of shameful things.
She’d rationalized that it was his choice and he knew the risks, but it didn’t make her feel one bit better about it.
She allowed it because he’d paid her. Her stomach churned as she slammed the bathroom door behind her, as if she could hide from her conscience.
It could have been any athlete, any John Doe, but it was Trent. It was a crazy thing to do, but Trent knew what he was doing. There were a lot of athletes with a lot of money who would have done the same thing. Trent got lucky because they both knew and trusted Ralph Nunley.
And now that she knew Trent, she couldn’t think of him as John Doe any more. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to him because she cared about him beyond the research.
Facing her messy confused feelings didn’t give her any relief from the guilt, it only made her feel worse, foolish, crazy. Hopeless.
She stripped down and stepped into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would go, knowing it wouldn’t get her clean enough to feel better.
She dressed in a hurry, cringing at the wardrobe choices in her closet.
She slipped on an old charcoal gray skirt and white blouse—one of the dozen hanging in her closet.
Maybe she ought to try different colors.
Trent and Tammy were right about her needing a new wardrobe.
She’d talk to Suzette about going shopping later.
She sighed as she fastened her watch around her wrist, only to drop it when her phone rang.
A quick glance at the phone told her it was the last person on the planet she wanted to talk to. Ever. Dr. Hogarth. After a moment of cowardice, she forced herself to pick up the phone and click it on.
“Hogarth.” She spat his name like a curse. She’d abandoned any effort to show him the respect due a boss when he’d decided to blackmail her.
“Good morning, Dr. Morneau. I wanted to make sure you were coming into the office this morning.”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Report to my office directly when you get in. We have some serious matters to discuss.”
She closed her eyes and wanted to hang up, but she didn’t.
“Yes, we do. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” She clicked off the phone, threw it into her non-designer bag that was worn though serviceable, and headed downstairs. She’d have to check on her mother later. Maybe she could get away for lunch.
She stormed through the kitchen, grabbing her black wool coat on the way, and opened the back door.
“What’s going on, Charline?” Suzette stopped her.
“Why do you ask?”
“Your face is a storm. It’s not Trent, is it?”
“No. It’s work. I have a meeting with Hogarth this morning.
” She stood at the door, nerves making her tight.
She wanted to do what she’d done all her life, tell her sister, share her burden with Suzette.
All Suzette could do was listen, but she was good at that, good at soothing frazzled nerves, good at putting things in perspective.
Charline let the door close and stepped back, took a deep breath and plunged in.
“He’s putting a lot of pressure on me about the serum. He wants to have an internal investigation into the missing serum. I think he suspects that I took it. He knows about the family illness.”
“No. We’ve been so careful—how could he have found out?” Suzette’s eyes went wide as she plunked down her coffee, spilling it.
“Good question.”
“What can we do about it? How can I help?”
“Just be yourself. Don’t admit to anything. And do not tell Mother.”
Suzette nodded. “Mother worries me, Charlie. She gets so depressed when you’re not here. She tries to hide it, but I see it.”
“I know. I’ve noticed. Mr. Diggins has told me he’s seen her crying, seen her just staring off into space and then sobbing. I’ll see about getting her an antidepressant. Tonight.”
“Don’t take it—”
“Of course not. I’ll write a prescription and get it filled at an off-site pharmacy. No need for Hogarth to know about that too.” She’d need to think long and hard about dosage and combining it with her mother’s pain meds, but she’d figure it out. She had to do more for her mother.
Suzette nodded and stood with some difficulty, but then she threw her arms around Charline. “You’re so good and strong, Charline. I don’t know what we’d do without you. I love you.” She gave Charline a kiss on her cheek, making her squirm with guilt.
Charline felt anything but good or strong as she walked out the door.
On her way to her car, she saw Diggins heading to her from the old barn. She waited for him. He was supposed to be the caretaker of the property, but he’d become so much more since her father passed away six years ago. She shouldn’t rely so heavily on him to help, but Charlie had few choices.
“Good morning, Diggins.” She felt real warmth for the man.
Suzette was right about him feeling more like an uncle than the family home’s caretaker.
Her father had hired the man too many years ago to count, gave him a place to stay in the carriage house.
He’d never complained about not getting a raise in years.
“I’m glad I caught you before you left. I wanted to let you know the chimneys need cleaning and the furnace too. I’ll need to bring someone in to do it.”
“That’s fine.” Household financial issues seemed like ant holes compared to the Mount-Everest-sized problems she was having with Hogarth and in her personal life—with Trent.
He stopped and smiled at her. “I saw the football game with your new guy, Trent Lockheed, Mr. Football—he’s something else, isn’t he?”
She nodded and felt the proverbial spider web of lies surrounding her, felt it creeping in, close to suffocating her.
“Of course he’s the lucky one because he made the best catch in the world when he got you. Can’t say I’m surprised. You’re such a beauty inside and out.”
“Stop it, Diggins, you’re making me blush.” She felt the heat of shame at his words, but went on. “I wanted to talk to you too. Can you check in on my mother? Keep her company for a while today? I’m going to try and get home for lunch, but I’m not sure I can and Suzette has an appointment today.”
“Sure thing. You know you can count on me. I’ll be happy to bring her something special for lunch.”
“You’re the beautiful one, Diggins, inside and out.” Charline gave him a quick hug and then got in her car.
Hogarth sat behind his desk and indicated that she should sit.
She stood where she was, barely inside the door.
Charline wanted to make this meeting quick, like ripping off a Band-aid in one swift move to minimize the pain.
After a few beats of tense silence, the kind she was becoming used to, Hogarth cleared his throat. She didn’t even blink her eyes.
“All right then, I’ll get straight to the point. The university police will be investigating the theft of the EM-HGH-1. You are to cooperate.”
“Of course.” She held her breath, waiting for a threat.
“In the meantime, I don’t approve of you hiding files from your own assistant, Dr. Cooper.” He let the statement hang.
“What did she tell you? Did she tell you she was in my office after hours trying to steal files? Files that she had no business—”
“I’ll be the one who determines which files she has business seeing and which she doesn’t.”