It's One of Us(45)

“No, it won’t,” Moore says. “But it will put my mind at ease. It’s just so strange, all these years later, a murder so similar, tied so closely to you. We’re already rerunning the DNA from Melanie’s case to make sure we don’t have another match in the system. I guess I want to see if Peter Johnson is the daddy. Curiosity more than anything else. I’m just one of those who likes to cross the t’s and dot the i’s. So, anyway.” Moore stands, adjusting the holster on her hip. “I have to get going. I need to be in court. But with all that’s happening, we really should go ahead and start talking with the media, letting them in on this situation, or they will be relentless. I can arrange for you to sit down with them, both of you, and you can tell them what this has been like. I know you’re being torn apart with worry over this, and now that someone’s breaking into your places, you need—”

“What we need is a lawyer,” Park says, and the finality in his tone makes the cop sit back down in her chair and cross her arms, a brow hiked to her hairline. “No. I won’t go along with this until I’ve had a chance to discuss the situation with counsel.”

Olivia leans over to him. “Park, maybe the detective is right. We’ve been targeted already. We’re the victims here, just as much as Beverly was, and Jillian might be. Just as much as your children. And now someone’s broken into both our workplaces. Add in that the police—” she looks sharply at Moore, who smiles blandly at her “—are dragging up the Melanie Rich murder, this is getting out of control.”

The look he gives her is of such profound betrayal that she sighs and squares her shoulders, facing Moore again.

Together. Stand together. Talk to Lindsey’s friend before this goes any further.

“My husband is right. We need to speak with counsel before any more steps are taken that might share the full details with the media before we are ready for that to happen.” Then, softer, “You understand, we’ve had too many shocks. We need some time to wrap our heads around all of this, and we have to make sure Park is protected in case one of these women decides to... I don’t know...talk.”

“And say what?” Moore asks, looking genuinely intrigued.

“I have no idea,” she snaps. “But it’s time for us to go. We’ll be at our home if you need to speak with us again and will let you know if anything else happens.”

She stands, feeling much less brave than her words imply, and Park follows suit, face stony.

Moore waves a hand toward the door in dismissal. Park grabs Olivia’s arm and practically drags her out of the room.

In the parking lot, they confer in heated whispers. Where to go. Who to talk to. Olivia knows their reaction to the cop wanting to release their names to the media made them look furtive, guilty, though they’ve done nothing wrong. And Park had nearly exploded at the news of Melanie’s pregnancy. Another pregnancy.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

He shakes his head. “We’d already broken up when she went missing. No way it was mine.”

“I believe you. Let’s get with Lindsey. She’ll know what we should do next. She already was planning to talk to the crisis management lawyer.”

They call Lindsey, and when she doesn’t answer, Olivia says, “Let’s try her admin.”

“She’s not in, Mrs. Bender. She took the afternoon off. Said something had come up and she’d see me tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Jennifer.” Olivia hangs up, glances at the time on her phone. She’s going to be late if she doesn’t hurry. “I have a therapy appointment.” At Park’s anguished look, she says, “You should come with me.”

“This stranger who broke into your build, who might have broken into our home, is out there, the police and the media are breathing down our necks, and you want to go to therapy? Aren’t you worried about me at all?”

“Of course I am. I’m sick at heart right now, Park. And I have exactly zero ideas how to handle things. Come with me. At the very least, we’ll be able to make a plan, get some tools—”

“Screw tools. Olivia, for God’s sake.” His voice cracks, and she touches his cheek despite the outburst.

“This is definitely one of the worst weeks of our lives, Park. Don’t attack me. I’m trying to work with you when all I want to do is slap you. But I am meeting with Dr. Benedict whether you are coming or not. Because I might be strong, but you are breaking me in two right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely, tears in his voice. “I hate to hurt you like this, Liv.”

“Then stop doing it.”

“Are you going to call the clinic?” He blurts out the words, and she flinches.

“I already did. I talked to Brigit.”

“I mean, are you going to make an appointment to see the doctor? We should talk next steps, shouldn’t we? We’ll have to start planning—”

“Park. Now is not the time. We have enough to deal with.”

“Don’t you even want to talk about it?” That mournful tone sends a combination of pain and impatience through her. She’s beginning to feel manipulated, a place from where all their worst fights start.

“No. I don’t want to talk about IVF right now. I’m not ready. I might not ever be ready again.”