“Actually, it’s only the second.” Audra was curled up on the recliner, positioned catty-corner to the sofa.
Jack surrendered to a smile. “My answer’s still the same. The Monitor’s online edition isn’t as large as a major metropolitan’s Sunday paper. Besides, an online newspaper subscription is more convenient.”
“You mean it fits your hermit lifestyle. I prefer the feel of newsprint in my hands.” Audra shook the newspaper she was reading.
Jack grunted. “Don’t fear technology.”
“You’ve offended me.” Audra hummed to herself as she skimmed the pages of the metropolitan newspaper’s Sunday edition. “Remember, if I hadn’t gone into town to get a newspaper after our morning jog, you wouldn’t have had Doreen’s fresh Trinity Falls Fudge Walnut Brownie.”
Jack stared at Audra. It was a pastime in which he enjoyed indulging. He took in her pixie features, winged eyebrows, high cheekbones, full lips, and stubborn chin. Her warmth reached out and wrapped around him. Today she was dressed in a rainbow of colors: a pink-and-orange striped T-shirt and orange shorts.
He nodded. “Doreen’s brownies are a benefit of going into town.”
“That’s an understatement.” Audra sounded distracted. Her smooth caramel forehead was wrinkled.
Jack sat up on the sofa. “What’s wrong?”
Audra looked to him, then back to the newspaper. “There’s an article about Trinity Falls in this paper.”
Jack frowned. “Why would a newspaper in Cleveland run an article about us?”
Audra hesitated. “It’s not exactly about the town. It’s more about the town’s founding family.”
Jack’s blood ran cold. He closed his laptop and stood from the sofa. He extended his hand toward Audra. “Let me see.”
It was all there in black and white. The article moved quickly past his family’s founding of Trinity Falls in northeastern Ohio at the base of the three waterfalls. It then took its time covering Jack’s life.
Where did the reporter get his information about his marriage to Kerry? When the article turned to Zoey, Jack saw red.
CHAPTER 12
Jack crushed the edges of the newspaper in his fists. The words became a hazy red blur. “Where did they get this information about my daughter?”
“Jack, I’m so sorry.” Audra stood beside him.
The cold darkness grew toward him. Jack crossed the family room, needing space. “Her medical records are private.”
“Perhaps they did an Internet search.”
He pulled his right hand over his close-cropped hair, crushing the newspaper in his left. “Details like these wouldn’t turn up in a basic search.”
“Maybe they went deeper than a basic search.” Audra’s suppositions exacerbated Jack’s frustration.
“I need to know.” Jack pushed the words through clenched teeth. The veins above his temples throbbed aggressively. “How did they get this personal information about my family?”
“You have every right to an answer.”
Jack turned back to Audra. He strained to focus on her through a fog of emotion. “But?”
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”
“How would you feel if this happened to you?”
“You’re angry about more than the invasion of your privacy.”
Looking into her champagne eyes, Jack saw more curiosity than concern. A sense of calm hovered near him, just out of reach. He fought it. “They don’t have the right to discuss my daughter.”
“Then who does?”