THE PICTURES HAD photographed her swollen, battered, and bruisedâa puffy lip, two black eyes, a bloated and bright face. Decker found it nearly impossible to reconcile those snapshots with the remarkable-looking woman who sat before him. Terry had changed in the fifteen years. She had morphed from a beautiful sixteen-year-old girl to an elegant, stunning woman. Age had turned her face softer and rounder with the fragile exquisiteness of a Victorian cameo. His eyes traveled from the picture to her face. He raised an eyebrow.
âPretty bad, huh?â she said.
âYour husband certainly did a number on you.â If Decker squinted hard enough at her face, he could see remnants of the thrashingâa greenish tinge in certain spots. âAnd these pictures are around six weeks old?â
âAround.â She shifted her position on the sofa. âThe body is a wondrous thing. I used to see miracles all the time.â
Being a doctor, Terry would know that information firsthand. How she managed to go through medical school and raise a kid while married to that maniac was a testament to her strength of character. It was hard to see her beaten down like this.
âAre you sure you want to go through with this? Meeting him here in L.A.?â
âI put it off about as long as I could,â Terry said. âIt really doesnât make sense to hide. If Chris wants to find me, he will. And itâs not me that Iâm worried about. Itâs Gabe. If he gets pissed off enough, he may take it out on him. I need to get him to adulthood, Lieutenant, before I make any decisions about myself.â
âHow old is Gabe?â
âChronologically, heâs about four months from fifteen. Psychologically, heâs an old man.â
Decker nodded. They were sitting in an elegantly furnished hotel suite in Bel Air, California. The color scheme was a soothing tone-on-tone beige. There was a stocked wet bar off the entry and a marble countertop for mixing drinks. Terry had curled up on the divan opposite a stone fireplace. He was sitting on her left in a wing chair with a view of the private patio lushly planted with ferns, palms, and flowersâan oasis for the wounded soul. âWhat makes you think that youâll last until Gabe turns eighteen?â
Terry gave the question some thought. âYou know how cool and calculating my husband is. This was the first time that he ever laid a hand on me.â
âSo what happened?â
âA misunderstanding.â She looked at the ceiling, avoiding Deckerâs eyes. âHe found some medical papers and thought I had an abortion. After I finally got him to stop hitting me and listen, he realized that he had misread the name. The abortion had been for my half sister.â
âHe confused the name Melissa with Teresa.â
âWe have the same middle name. Iâm Teresa Anne. Sheâs Melissa Anne. Itâs stupid but my father is stupid. I still use McLaughlin, like my half sister, because itâs on all my diplomas and licenses. He misread the names and he snapped. Not that he cares about children, but the thought of my destroying his progeny made him unglued. Iâm just thankful there wasnât a gun within reach.â She shrugged.
Decker said, âWhy did you marry him, Terry?â
âHe wanted it official. I could hardly tell him no since he was supporting us. I could have never finished medical school without his money.â She paused. âMostly he leaves Gabe and me alone. He buries himself in work or booze or drugs or other women. Gabe and I are adept at maneuvering around him. Our interactions are neutral and sometimes pleasant. Heâs generous and knows how to be charming when he wants something. I give him what he wants and all is well.â
âExcept when it isnât.â Decker held up the photographs. âWhat exactly do you want me to do, Doctor?â
âIâve agreed to see him, Lieutenant, not to go back to him. At least, not right away. I donât know how heâll take the news. Since I canât escape him, I want him to agree to a temporary separation. Not a marriage separationâthat wouldnât settle wellâjust for him to agree to give me a little more time to be by myself.â