Part 21 (2/2)

”Come now, I told you on that very first day that there are hidden cameras all around the public portions of the farmhouse. You've always known they were there. They're on 24/7. I was very upfront about that.”

”You can't use that footage. That was highly personal.”

”Of course we can, and emotional, authentic footage is the best possible kind of footage. The viewers will eat it up. When one of the night crew noticed late-night lights and went to the monitor, that was the best thing that ever happened to your career, because I have to tell you, it was looking iffy at best until just now.”

Susan put her hands on each side of her head and leaned against the table. ”No.”

”I probably shouldn't have come in here so early in the morning before you're awake enough to see this for the gift that it is. It's just that I was in the editing trailer and I saw the lamps come on in the kitchen, and I just had to come and tell you. You know what? You come talk to me after you've had your coffee. I'll even break the rules just this once and show you the clip.” She stood from the kitchen table and walked out the back door, humming the Lisa Lee theme song under her breath.

Chapter 34.

Julie tiptoed down the stairs. She got up a little early, thinking she would make some coffee for Susan, and hopefully get a chance to talk to her about how things went last night with Angie.

As she neared the kitchen, she felt the heat from the stove and smelled the coffee. She entered the room to find Susan with her head resting on her arms on the kitchen table. Asleep?

Julie didn't want to wake her, so she stopped walking, considering her next move. The coffee was percolating on the stove, and given the strong smell, it likely had been for a while. She quietly poured two cups, then went to sit across the table from Susan.

”Good morning.” Susan said the words without lifting her head.

”Is it?” Julie slid one of the mugs across the table. ”Your coffee's ready.”

”Thanks.” She still didn't lift her head.

”Susan, why don't you go back to bed? I can handle what needs doing around here today.”

Susan sat up then, rubbed her forehead with her left hand, and shook her head. ”No. That's okay. Thank you, though.” She took a sip of her coffee. ”And thank you for last night. For figuring out what was going on, I mean.”

Julie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ”How are things?”

”Dandy. Just dandy.” She gestured toward the walls. ”I feel the need for a walk.”

”What?”

”Join me?” She stood up, coffee cup in hand, and started toward the back porch without waiting for an answer.

Julie grabbed her own mug and followed Susan out to the screened-in porch. They both sat on the bench and began lacing up their work boots. ”We're going to be quite the stylish ladies, walking through the place in our boots and pj's.”

”Doesn't matter.” Susan stood and walked out the door. Julie rushed after her, but didn't say anything, choosing to wait instead for Susan to speak when she was ready. She waited until they were past the barn. ”They caught it all on film.”

Julie thought about the events of last night. ”All . . . as in escape, search, everything? How is that possible?”

”Well, most everything. It seems that they noticed lights on in the kitchen really late last night, so they pulled up those monitors, just in time to realize that Angie and I were having a serious talk. They recorded the whole thing.”

”I thought Kendra didn't want any of this to accidentally end up on the show.”

”She didn't.” Susan took a sip of her coffee. ”Until now. She says it is the most compelling footage they've gotten all season.”

”Oh, Susan. Surely you told her she can't use it?”

”I told her. She reminded me about a little thing called the contract. They can use whatever they darn well want to.”

”Oh, sweetie.” Julie put her arm around Susan's shoulder. ”I'm so sorry.”

They walked in silence for some time, until they reached the observatory. Susan stopped and turned back toward the house. ”The thing is, it was the best talk we've had in a long time. Since the divorce really. But we talked about some really personal things-about James, about Chris. For them to air it for all of America to see . . . you know how shy she is . . . this will be humiliating for her.”

”Then you've got to stop them.”

”I just told you, there is a contract. I can't.”

”Maybe not, but don't you let it happen without putting every single ounce of your being against it. At least Angie will know that you gave everything you had.”

”I never thought I'd hear these words come out of my mouth, but I don't know what else to do.”

”You walk out, if that's what it takes.”

”My contract forbids that, too.”

”Susan, you're in a battle for your daughter's well-being. This is one of those times when you give up everything if that's what it takes.”

”But what kind of example would I be setting? Walking away from a project I promised to see through to the end?”

”You'd be setting the best possible example. Showing her there are some areas where you won't compromise, no matter what it costs you.”

”I don't know.” Susan was wiping tears from her eyes. ”I'm going to sit by the creek for a while. Think. Pray. Will you cover for me?”

”Take as long as you need.” Julie walked toward the house, her heart heavy. Everything had gone so wrong.

Susan sat just above the creek bank. Dew on the early-morning gra.s.s soaked through her pajamas, but what did it matter? She extended her legs in front of her, knees slightly bent so she could rest her elbows on them when she leaned forward, then put a hand over each ear.

It was ruined. Everything was ruined.

G.o.d, I just don't get it. I was certain You had called me here to this. It seemed to be a clear answer to prayers. This job was giving me the means to provide for Angie and me, plus the opportunity to expand Lydia's Legacy to even more women. But everything is wrong. I'm going to lose this job, go home in disgrace as a complete failure, and my daughter will still have to suffer the consequences. Why didn't I think about those cameras last night? What kind of an idiot am I?

As much as she tried to shut them out, the memories of two years ago joined in the fray of her swirling thoughts. The nights that James worked late. She hadn't thought a thing about it initially. Of course he worked late-he was an engineer in the aeros.p.a.ce industry, and there were things that needed to be done. All that talk about the big project they were working on.

She remembered walking down the aisle of the grocery store, her neatly printed grocery list in one hand while she squeezed an apricot with the other. One of the store employees was cutting up peaches and handing out slices for people to try, causing the area to have a fresh, fruity smell.

”Susan, how are you doing?” Annamarie Rickman, wife of one of James's colleagues, appeared, picking up a peach sample and waving it at Susan in greeting before she popped it in her mouth.

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