“I suppose.” She wiped her cheek. “I guess I keep hoping he’ll come home and they’ll never have to know.”
“It’s been almost three weeks,” Milla said gently. “Even if he did come back now, would you take him back? Do you still want him?”
Another tear rolled down. “He doesn’t love me, does he? If he did, he wouldn’t have done this. He couldn’t have. I know I’ve let myself go a tad, but I’m almost sixty and it’s all right to be gray-haired when you’re sixty, isn’t it? Benny always kept himself in good shape, though. And he has only a little gray in his hair.”
“Could he have a girlfriend?” Milla hated to say it, even though she knew the police had already asked Roberta the same question. At the time, in shock, worried out of her mind and terrified that her life was falling apart, Roberta had automatically rejected the idea.
Now, however, her face crumpled and she put her hand over her eyes. “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “He could have. He played golf almost every day. I never checked up on him. I trusted him.”
Milla supposed there were people who willingly played golf even in the most searing heat, but every day? She doubted it. And so did Roberta, now that she was seeing things from a different perspective.
“Please, see a lawyer,” Milla said again. “And change your bank account. I bet you haven’t done that, have you? His name is still on the account. What if he empties it out? What will you do then?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Roberta moaned, rocking back and forth a little in her distress. She began blindly pawing through her purse. Guessing what she needed, Milla pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and pressed it into Roberta’s hand.
After a few moments of wiping and blowing, Roberta took a deep breath. “I guess I’ve been acting like an old fool these past few weeks. I need to wake up and see what’s what. He left me. I might try the Salvation Army thing, but you’re right: first off, I need to change the bank account and protect what’s left.” Her chin quivered. “I’ll call the boys tonight and tell them what’s happening. I can’t believe he’s done this. Leaving me is one thing, but what about the boys? He’s always had such a good relationship with them. He has to know this will change everything, so I guess he doesn’t care about that, either.”
Milla didn’t say anything to that, though she suspected that eventually Mr. Hatcher would contact his sons, say he was sorry and so on, and expect everything to be as it was before. Some people simply didn’t see the consequences of their actions, or they figured they could work things out. She didn’t think this could ever be worked out, but it wasn’t her call.
Roberta’s eyes were red and swollen but her head was up and her stride brisk as she left the office. The door was barely closed behind her when Milla’s phone rang. She punched the button and sank into her chair, feeling exhausted already.
“This is Milla.”
“Hi, sweetie. Are you free for lunch today?”
It was Susanna Kosper, the obstetrician who had delivered Justin at the tiny free clinic in Mexico. Life was funny sometimes; Susanna and Rip, her husband, had liked the Mexican people so much that they had settled in El Paso to practice. That way they were still in the United States but close to the culture they enjoyed. They still made at least two trips a year into different parts of Mexico.
Susanna made an effort to stay in touch with Milla, and considering an obstetrician’s busy schedule, that was saying something. There was a link between them because Susanna had been in the clinic that awful day, and she and Rip had been part of David’s desperate struggle to save Milla’s life. Sometimes a couple of months would slip by without contact between the two women, because of their hectic schedules, but whenever they could they’d have lunch together. Such plans had to be spur-of-the-moment, but somehow they usually made it work.
“Unless something comes up,” Milla said. “Where and when?”
“Twelve-thirty. Dolly’s.”
Dolly’s was a trendy little café that served chick food and was always busy at lunch, packed with women who wanted something lighter than the usual fare. A few businessmen ate there, but for the most part men stayed far, far away from the dainty chairs and tables in Dolly’s.
As Milla hung up, Joann stuck her head in the door. “I haven’t mentioned him,” she said in a low voice, and she didn’t have to elaborate. “He called first thing this morning. At least I think it was him. His voice gives me the creeps, and I got big-time goose bumps with this call, so I’m pretty sure who it was.”
Milla wasn’t even hearing his voice, and her skin roughened with a chill. Absently she rubbed her arms. “What did he want?”
“He didn’t say. He asked if you were here. I said no, told him what time your flight would be in and what time I expected you, and he hung up.”
“Did you give him my cell phone number?”
Joann looked worried. “No. I started to, but I didn’t know if you wanted him to have it.”
Since he probably already had her home phone and address, thanks to her slipup of using her real name instead of her business name, Milla couldn’t see how giving him her cell phone number could hurt. “I’ll give it to him when I see him again.”
“See who?” Brian asked from the doorway.
Their office could use a tad more formality, Milla thought as she looked around. On the other hand, Finders was a partnership of people dedicated to what they did, not a corporation. She was the figurehead and the operational head, but other than that, the structure was very loose, and she had encouraged that feeling. While she might tell Brian about Diaz later—she wasn’t sure how to explain how she had entered into an agreement with a man who was essentially a vigilante, and that was being charitable—she wasn’t ready to tell him now, so she deflected him by changing the subject.