Glitsky 02 - Guilt by John Lescroart Read Free Book Online Page A

on.'
    'So do yourself a favor and get another clerk.'
    'We're going to have ten other clerks. Christina's just going to be one of them.'
    Farrell scratched his chin. 'Oh boy,' he said. 'Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.'

    'I'm so worried about Mark. He's just not been himself.'
    Lydia Farrell – Wes's wife – threw an 'Oh,
please'
expression at Sheila Dooher over the rim of her china cup.
    The two women were in the glass-enclosed breakfast nook with the French countryside motif, above which the driving rain of the earlier morning had turned to a romantic Normandy drizzle. At the look, Sheila said, 'Come on, Lyd, they're not all bad. Men, I mean.'
    Lydia put her cup down. 'I didn't say they were. You know I don't think Wes has anything bad going against him. He's just got nothing going, period. Either direction. Against, for, sideways. Mark, I don't know.'
    'Mark's a good man, Lyd. That counts.'
    Once, in the very early days, Mark had subtly but very definitely come on to Lydia, his best friend's wife. When she'd called him on it, he'd backed off, saying in his charming way that she must have misunderstood something, he was sorry. But she knew she hadn't misunderstood a thing.
    She'd never mentioned it to Wes or to Sheila. On some level she was flattered, even amused by it – to have something on the great Mark Dooher, who obviously thought she was attractive enough to run that risk. Imagine!
    But she had decided opinions about his inherent goodness.
    Still, Sheila was her friend. They'd been through moves and children and schools and their husbands' careers together, and she deserved a listen.
    'I'm sorry. You're right. Good counts. I'm just a little snippy today. I'm seeing Sarah' – her divorce lawyer – 'tomorrow, and I want to be in shape. I'm always tempted to be so nice, let Wes have something I've got a legal right to. So Sarah told me, "Start thinking hate thoughts the day before. Think of all the shitty things he's done, the times he hasn't shown up when he said he would, the dinners that got cold, the shirts you've ironed, to say nothing about… more personal things. You'll never regret it." Sarah's a jewel.'
    'I never want to go through that.'
    'Well, I didn't either, dear, but divorce is like war. If you're in one, you'd better win. Still, you and Mark aren't going to get divorced.'
    'No, I don't think that.'
    'But?'
    'I didn't say "but".'
    Lydia smiled at her friend. 'Yes, you did. So why?'
    'Why what?'
    'Why do you think your marriage is suffering?'
    Sheila put down her cup, picked up the tiny spoon and stirred. After a long moment she answered, 'Because Mark is.'
    'From what?'
    Sheila took a moment phrasing it. She wasn't sure herself. 'I think he's clinically depressed. With the kids gone now and all. I think he's lost.' A pause. 'I'm worried he might kill himself.'
    'Has he said that?'
    'No. You know Mark, but he's made a few comments.'
    Lydia picked up her cup, sipped at it, eyes on Sheila. 'Why would he kill himself? He's got everything.'
    'Maybe what he has doesn't mean anything. Or enough.' Sheila's eyes were dry and she spoke calmly.
    But Lydia had known her since college, and had learned that just because Sheila wasn't given over to histrionics didn't mean she didn't go deep. 'How's he acting?' she asked.
    'Silent. And he's not sleeping. His doctor gave him some pills but he won't take them. He was up and out by seven this morning when I got up, and we didn't get to bed until very late. Two-ish.'
    'Up and out?'
    'Gone.'
    'To work?'
    'No. I called. He didn't get in till after ten:'
    'I don't want to say-'
    Sheila held up her hand. 'No, it's not an affair. He doesn't have time. You don't go meet your lover at six in the morning someplace. Actually, he went to Church – Ash Wednesday – for ashes. I asked and he told me.'
    'The good Catholic. Still.'
    'That's him. But the point is he's getting no sleep. This has been going on almost a year now. It's like he's afraid he's going to miss something – some