He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I see. Forfeiting, huh?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my temples. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Zach was a good guy, just a little overenthusiastic at times, an admirable trait when it came to signing screen and sport contracts, but not so much the rest of the time. Right now, I needed to find Lynn. I glanced at my watch. She was on in fifteen minutes. So I left Zach standing there with an empty roller cart and a smug look on his face as I searched out my author.
*
I FINALLY FOUND her in the hall outside the textile room, where she was deep in conversation with Dr. Meyers. Hesitant to disrupt them, I hovered down the hall a ways, amusing myself by checking over a display of spa items. However, a sideways glance told me Lynn and the doctor were discussing more than just books. I could tell by the way Lynn swiped at a tear and Dr. Meyers leaned in closer to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Was I witnessing a bit of the doctor’s bedside manner? Was Lynn upset about something—perhaps delayed grief over her ex-husband’s death—or was she unburdening details of a crime that would later be classified as privileged information shared between a doctor and client? I quickly dismissed that last thought. Call it gut instinct, or whatever, but I still believed Lynn was innocent.
I waited until the doctor walked away before approaching Lynn. “Hey, everything okay?”
She nodded, her still-moist eyes darting about nervously. “I’m fine,” she said, but to me, it looked like she was about to have a breakdown, and she was due to present in just a few minutes. I took her arm and guided her toward the Potter’s Room, where I hoped we could find a quiet spot.
“Do you want to go over your reading? We probably have time to run through it before your event starts,” I said as we settled at a quiet table in the corner of the room.
She shook her head. “No, I practiced out loud in front of Jodi and Pam last night. They’ve been so helpful. And Dr. Meyers, too. She’s been helping me come to grips with some feelings I have.”
“I saw you two talking just a few minutes ago. I’m sure this has been difficult for you.”
She lifted her chin and looked me straight in the eye. “The hard part is the guilt I feel.”
My heart dropped. “Guilt?”
“Yes, guilt over the relief I feel. I can finally rest easy now. Move on with my life.” Her eyes grew wide at my shocked expression. “Not that I killed him,” she quickly added, then narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think I killed him, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
She exhaled. “You see, when Chuck and I first got married, things were wonderful.” She fiddled with the table covering as she spoke. “Then slowly, everything began to change. Small things at first. A cross word here and there. Then he started constantly picking me apart. Do you know what I mean?”
I nodded.
“Things kept going downhill from there, until one day, he lost his temper and hit me.”
“Oh, Lynn! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I got out of the relationship in time. So many women don’t, you know. I was lucky. Did you know Dr. Meyers runs a home for abused women over in Dunston? I wished it’d been there when Chuck . . . Well, that’s all over now. Really over. And like Dr. Meyers was telling me, I don’t need to feel guilty because I’m happy about Chuck’s death. She said there’s no wrong or right feelings, just feelings. And it’s natural for me to feel relieved after everything I went through.”
I found myself blinking back tears as she spoke. What an incredible story of strength and courage. “I’m so glad Dr. Meyers was here for you, Lynn. And you’re right. You are very fortunate to have escaped that type of relationship. I’m so proud of you. You’ve overcome the odds and accomplished so much for yourself. I mean, here you are, embarking on a new and fabulous career as an author.”
The corners of her lips tipped upward. A tiny smile, but the first one I’d seen for a while. “And if I want to keep my career, I’d better get down the hall and do my presentation.”
I gave her hand a little squeeze before we stood. “That’s right. Your future readers are waiting.”