Page 37 of Laced With Secrets

“He planned to leave Millcrest?” I asked.

“Yes.” Margie’s voice cracked slightly. “I told him there were places that would help him.”

Dominic leaned forward slightly. “Did something happen that made him want to leave?”

Margie’s expression grew troubled. “He was nervous around certain people in those last weeks. Judge Whitmore, for one.”

I blinked, surprised. “Harold Whitmore?”

“The same.” Margie’s mouth tightened with distaste. “He thought every omega was there for the taking.”

“Judge Whitmore was a philanderer?”

“Oh yes. Harold Whitmore was a pig.”

The bluntness startled me.

“What did he do?” Dominic asked, his voice carefully controlled.

“As far as I could gather, he made advances on Thomas. Inappropriate advances.” Margie’s hands tightened on her blanket. “Thomas came to the clinic shaken one day. Wouldn’t say exactly what happened at the construction site, but I could read between the lines.”

“Did Thomas tell anyone else?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not that I know of. Whitmore was a judge. Thomas was an omega—a pretty successful one, but still, just an omega. Who would anyone have believed?”

Dread settled in my stomach. If Judge Whitmore had assaulted Thomas…

“Was there anyone else?” Dominic asked carefully. “Anyone else who took an interest in Thomas?”

“Several. Construction sites had lots of different people working together—lots of alphas. And Thomas was as pretty as they came.” Margie’s eyes were sharp, assessing us.

“But love and…” she paused delicately, “…conception don’t always come from the same source. Especially not when alphas don’t understand what ‘no’ means.”

The implication was clear and horrible. Thomas could have been assaulted by one person while in love with another.

“That last time I saw him, he seemed depressed and worried,” Margie said sadly.

“Then, about a week before he disappeared,” Margie’s expression darkened. “Constance Whitmore came to Dr. James’s office.”

The air seemed to still.

“The judge’s wife?” I asked, my heart pounding. “What did she want?”

“She came under the pretense of picking up a prescription. Waited until Dr. James had stepped out.” Margie’s hands tightened on her blanket. “Then she cornered me. Asked if Thomas had been coming to see Dr. James. When I said I wouldn’t discuss patient information with her, she dropped the pretense.”

“What happened?” I leaned forward.

“She got right in my face. Said she knew her husband had been ‘carrying on’ with Thomas. Then she asked point-blank—‘Is that omega pregnant? Is it my husband’s?’” Margie’s eyes met mine. “She was furious. Not loud—too controlled for that. But her eyes… I’ve never seen such cold rage.”

Margie continued. “She said if Thomas was trying to trap her husband, if he thought he could destroy her family with some bastard child, he was wrong. Dead wrong.”

Icy fingers traced my spine.

“Dead wrong,” I repeated quietly. “Those were her exact words?”

“I’ll never forget them.” Margie’s hands shook slightly. “Because a week later, Thomas was gone. And I knew in my bones that something terrible had happened.”

“Did you tell the police?” I asked.