Текст книги "I'll Never Let You Go"

Автор книги: Mary Burton

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

This man was not a beat cop like he’d been. He had the look of a detective. “Moving up in the world, babe. The uniform isn’t good enough for you anymore.”

Embers of rage, always warm and glowing, flared and flickered into a hot flame. His wife and the guy lingered, staring at each other. A smile flashed on her face, and he knew they’d be seeing each other again.

“She’s my wife, dick.”

This close he could see dick’s face. Keen interest sharpened the man’s gaze. No doubt he was thinking about getting into his wife’s pants.

Irritated, he tore his gaze away and focused on the mission. He studied the text he’d just sent Leah: EMERGENCY AT THE CLINIC. CAN YOU COME INTO WORK?

“I might be a regular cop, but I found her number and I’m going to win this chess game, dick.”

She slid into the front seat, started the engine, and rolled down her window. She glanced up, smiling, nodding, and drove off. Dick got into his car and drove off.

He started his truck and shifted into first gear. Slowly, he turned onto Broadway and followed it until it branched right and turned into West End Avenue.

The drive back to his wife’s town house took ten minutes, but of course he knew the way. He’d been watching the house since he’d arrived in Nashville a week before. Many a night in the last couple of weeks, he’d sat in the parking lot across the street and watched her town house. He’d gotten to know all her new habits.

His wife arrived an hour later and parked in her reserved spot under the street lamp. She hurried from her car up the brick front steps of the town house, unlocked the door, and vanished inside. Lights clicked on, and though she’d already drawn the drapes, he could see her figure pass in front of the sliding glass door before the lights in her bedroom clicked on.

He imagined her in that bedroom, stripping off her shirt, her full breasts spilling over the top of her bra. It had been too long since he’d kissed those breasts, but he remembered how soft they felt. He remembered her lips tasted like her cherry lipstick. He remembered those lush lips kissing him along his belly, teasing him to the brink of insanity. He remembered every single detail of their life together.

But she wasn’t thinking about him as she stripped off her clothes. A different man lingered in her thoughts. How many men had she fucked since him?

It took all his willpower not to scream as he removed a switchblade from his pocket and flicked it open. Moonlight glinted off the sharp blade as he gouged it into the truck’s seat. He sliced through leather, imagining it was flesh.

He leaned back against the seat. Her shadow passed back into the living room, and the light of a television glowed as her silhouette lowered on the couch.

In the last few weeks, he’d learned all her new patterns and all her secrets, tracking her and listening via the bug he’d planted in her house. “No one knows you better than me, babe. No one.”

After an hour in the parking lot, the cold had numbed his toes and the tips of his fingers. He would have stayed all night, watching her sit on her couch in front of the television, but there were enough people coming and going at this time of night to get him noticed. He drove off, knowing she was alone in her town house, unable to sleep and thinking about him.

Until death do us part.

The words hummed in the back of his throat. So poignant, and yet their meaning appealed to him.

Until death do us part.

His little bird flew free right now, but soon he’d catch her and pluck off her wings. She belonged to him and no one else.

Until death do us part.

Chapter Four

Sunday, January 15, 6 A.M.

Keys. Where were the damn car keys? Leah brushed her fingers a second time over and then around the lopsided ceramic blue bowl always by the back door and felt for her keys. A quirky yet unbreakable habit, she always put them by the back door in the exact same place. It was a reasonable habit. Made sense. Saved her time. And it worked so well.

But the keys weren’t there. She glanced at the clock on her cell and knew she only had a half hour to meet up with the running group. They started at exactly 6:30 A.M., and if she weren’t there, they left without her.

“Where’re my keys?” Confirming they weren’t in the bowl, she checked her purse, rattled it, turned it upside down. No keys. What had she been doing last night?

Ah, the date. It had been a long day, she’d been tired, but she’d agreed to a date with Alex. He was tall, good-looking, and an ambitious agent. He was the kind of guy most women wanted to date.

She’d wanted to like him, should have liked him, but trust was going to take more than a New Year’s resolution.

She moved toward the large couch where she’d eaten dinner, reheated Chinese leftovers, after her return to the town house. She pulled out the cushions. Nothing. Irritated and a bit desperate, she ran her hands along the creases of the couch. Her fingers brushed metal and she pulled out her keys, half relieved yet puzzled that she’d lost them.

Leah had her faults, but she was painfully precise. How could a date have thrown off her routine so completely? Maybe it wasn’t the date but the text that had proved to be a false alarm? Was her steady, even life so fragile that she couldn’t handle any deviation?

Damn.

She snatched up the keys and hurried to her car. The morning chill cleared her head, but she questioned again this resolve to get fit. She turned on the ignition and switched the window defroster on high as she watched the frost on the windshield slowly melt. “Crazy people run marathons. They’re insane. Misguided fools. Sane people are asleep in bed right now.”

The ice on the windshield yielded a large enough hole for her to see well enough so she could drive. She threw the car in gear and made a run for it.

As she made her way down the dark streets, the lost keys jangled in her mind. Before Philip had died, missing keys would have totally freaked her out. She’d have panicked and called the cops, certain he was behind the mishap. She’d have called her aunt, hysterical.

Her heart raced. “Philip is gone.” He was dead. Buried right here in Nashville.

He wasn’t messing with her. She’d simply misplaced her damn keys.

Leah released the breath caught in her throat as she wove her way through town toward Centennial Park. She’d joined the running group when Deidre had reached out to her. She’d already decided to give up smoking as a New Year’s resolution, so how much worse could it be to add running? Famous last words. Moments like this, she questioned her sanity. Later, after the run and a hot shower, she’d feel a boost of pride and hope, two unfamiliar emotions that had become so addictive.

She spotted the line of ten cars parked at the park entrance. Most people still remained in their cars, staying close to the heat as long as possible. She parked, checked her watch, and realized she had only seconds to spare. She reached for her water bottle and discovered she’d forgotten it. Left it by the back door. The missing keys had distracted her. Thrown her off-track. Damn.

She pulled her ignition key from the ring, tucked the remaining keys under her mat, and got out of the car. The morning blast of cold air hit her hard and she reminded herself yet again that physical fitness was a good thing. She locked her car, unlocked it, locked it again, and checked the door handle to make sure it was secure.

She moved toward the park bench where the runners all assembled. Today was a short run. Five miles. They were all slowly building up their distance. For the best runners in the group, five miles was easy, so they focused on time. She focused on finishing, surviving.

“Leah!”

Leah turned toward the familiar female voice and smiled.

Leah, for the most part, still didn’t reach out to a lot of people. When Philip had been at his worst, he’d terrorized her as well as the people around her. She’d learned to keep her distance. During the last four years, she should have felt free to make new friends, but she hadn’t. She’d focused on school and work. She’d kept her life as small as possible, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. Logically, she understood Philip was forever out of her life. She shouldn’t worry. But fear and apprehension would not release their grip.

“Deidre.” Leah rubbed her gloved hands together, anxious to get started.

“Week three of training and you’re hanging tough.” Deidre grinned as she stretched her arms.

“Keep telling me why I’m doing this.” The cold air transformed her breath into visible puffs of air.

“Oh, you love it.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m still waiting on the love.”

Deidre laughed. “As I remember, it didn’t take much to convince you.”

Leah smiled as the other members of the group assembled around them. There were about a dozen today. The day after the New Year, the group had boasted over twenty, but some of the resolutions had drifted away in the following days.

“How did your date go last night?” Deidre asked.

Leah shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” Time to breathe a little life into her nonexistent love life. “I’m out of practice, and it showed. It was all I could do to carry on a conversation.”

“Why?” Deidre looked puzzled. “You’re smart. You have a wicked sense of humor.”

“Not the best dater, I guess.”

“Why?”

A weight settled in Leah’s chest, just as it always did when anyone mentioned her love life. Most times, she could crack a joke or change the subject, but Deidre had a keen eye for details not so easily brushed aside. “I had a bad marriage. A while ago.”

Deidre’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s over and done.”

“How long ago?”

This was the part when Leah would sound odd. “Four years.”

“Must have been really bad.”

Leah shrugged.

Deidre rolled her neck from side to side, and for a moment the veil hooding her bright gaze dropped. “I’ve told you a little about my divorce. Like I said, it isn’t pretty. Worse than I’ve really let on to most people.” She released a sigh. “I keep wondering when I’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Leah had constructed an impregnable wall around herself that kept her safe but alone. “I’m sure you’ll see better days soon.”

Deidre leaned against her car and stretched her hamstrings. “How long did it take you to recover from it?”

“It’s a work in progress. But I’m getting closer.”

A frown furrowed Deidre’s brow. “Sounds like it was really rough.” She let the words dangle, a fish hook in choppy water.

Leah tugged on her gloves, hating the sudden chill racing up her spine. “He tried to kill me.”

Deidre’s face paled, and she leaned in a fraction. “What? God, Leah, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Talk of her marriage created the sensation of standing on the edge of a cliff. She didn’t want to fall into the past.

“Where is he?”

“He vanished after the attack but crashed his car in South Carolina a few weeks later. He’s dead.”

Deidre’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

Leah’s smile held no joy. “Karma’s a bitch. I don’t dwell.”

That wasn’t true. The past had a tight hold on her. She still kept the journal she’d started when Philip had stalked her. The journal had been a necessary evil in those days. In fact, it had been her entries that had got her the restraining order. No reason to keep it any longer, but she did.

“My ex-to-be is having trouble with the divorce,” Deidre said. She pointed to a long, deep groove keyed into the side of her car.

Leah frowned, remembering the flat tires she’d dealt with during the months after she and Philip separated. “You okay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, but I’ll be glad when we sign the papers in a couple of days.”

“Stay strong.” The platitude buzzed false in her ears.

The coach blew a whistle and the group huddled close. She explained the course, called out projected times for each one of them, and wished them all a good run. Leah knew the course, which would help her with her pace. She wasn’t the fastest runner and had been dropped a few times. Deidre would run with Leah for the first half mile, but as soon as her muscles warmed up she would break away.

As the group got under way, beginning to move at a slow pace down the dirt pathway, she focused on her form and breathing. Running made it difficult to worry about anything else. When she ran, Philip receded to the back of her mind.

As they rounded a wooded corner, the color red flashed in her side vision. She turned toward the woods and saw a man standing amid the trees, staring at the group. The runners got lots of stares from the few early morning walkers. A few drivers even honked when they passed a road. The flash of red wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But something about this man held her attention. His hoodie covered his face, making it impossible to get a good look at him. He was tall, muscled, and he dug his hands into his pockets like Philip did when he stalked her.

Philip. Philip was dead.

She’d held his blackened wedding and signet rings in her hands.

She missed a step and had to take a couple of quick strides to keep from falling.

“You okay?” Deidre asked, glancing back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” She looked back toward the woods; the man with the red hoodie was gone.

“You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Leah smiled, pushing aside the panic that always rose when she allowed herself to think about Philip. “I’m fine. Aren’t you supposed to be keeping up with the fast group?”

“I can hang back.” Deidre’s sharp gaze saw far too much.

It took extra effort to fool her. “Go. I’m good. I won’t be far behind.”

Deidre hesitated. “I’ll wait for you at the cars.”

Even as she wished she would stay, Leah said, “See you soon.”

Deidre tossed her a thumbs-up and kicked her run into a higher gear. Leah would like to have been able to keep pace, but she couldn’t. Another memento of Philip. He’d stabbed her chest and punctured her lung, which had collapsed. It was back functioning, but she didn’t have the aerobic capacity she’d once had.

Her pace slow but steady, Leah kept running, and for the next half hour pushed straining muscles and burning lungs. Though she couldn’t keep pace with the main group, she would continue to progress if she remained patient.

When she arrived back at the car, Deidre and David were talking. He was laughing and she smiling. Breathless, Leah paused, pushed her hand into a side stitch, and then slowly walked toward the couple.

David smiled at Leah. “Looks like you’re running faster.”

“That’s the plan. Though I’m not holding out hope that I’ll get any sports scholarships or make any Olympic teams.”

Deidre smiled. “Use it or lose it. You’re doing fine.”

David chuckled. “Amen.”

Leah dug the key from her pocket. “Well, it would be nice not to be dead last in my age group when I race this spring. Maybe second to last.”

David grinned, and she saw his eyes warm with an appreciation that hinted of sexual desire. She should have been flattered. He was a nice guy, and liked to flirt, but old alarm bells rang.

“You two have a nice day,” Leah said. “I’ve got patients to see today.”

“We’re going to run a few more miles,” Deidre said, “and then call it a day.”

“Great.”

“Want to get coffee this week?” Deidre asked.

“Call me. I’ve got evenings and days this week, but I’m flexible.”

“Great.”

“See you.”

She tossed a glance at David that she hoped looked relaxed and not a deer caught in the headlights and hurried to her car. She glanced in the backseat and, sure it was empty, slid behind the wheel. Locking the doors, she turned the ignition and waited as the heater warmed and began to blow out hot air. As she put the car into reverse, she looked behind her, spotting again a flash of red. The man she’d seen earlier. He wasn’t looking at her, but, instead, leaned against a tree and stared back down the jogging path. Her heart kicked into high gear and her hands tightened on the steering wheel. It’s just a guy, Leah. Let it go.

Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into her town house driveway. Hesitating, she scanned the bushes around the front door. They were taller than she liked. Tall enough to hide a man standing in wait.

Leah shut off the engine and, key in hand, hurried to unlock the door. She quickly opened and closed it behind her, flipping the dead bolt immediately. She twisted the lock open and then closed it again. She tugged on the door handle to confirm it was really locked.

Leaning against the front door, her heart raced as had did four years before. She turned, flipped the dead bolt open. Flipped it closed again. She did it three times before she was satisfied it was locked.

She drew in a breath and hurried to her purse, where she kept her journal. Filled with fresh pages, it would hold so many notes. How long would it take her to fill this one? A month? Six months? She turned to the third page in the book and wrote down the date and time she’d noticed her keys missing, as well as the time she’d spotted the man in the park.

She stared at her precise handwriting and then slowly began to thumb through the older entries. Ten days ago: the nightmare. Eight days ago: saw man at the mall and remembered Philip. Seven days ago: heard a sound outside her window. Neighbor introduced herself as Julia, but she kept her distance.

Absently, she traced the scar that ran along her collarbone. Philip had aimed for her throat, but that strike had missed when she twisted and skimmed off her collarbone. Carefully, she closed the journal and released the breath she’d been holding.

He’s gone. He can’t hurt you. You’re safe.

Alex stood at the edge of the park, watching Deidre’s SUV. He’d arrived an hour before the group and had run the route through the woods, as he’d done hundreds of times before, in the dark. He liked running in the dark. The peace.

Today his gaze had been drawn to Leah. She hadn’t seen his face, of that he was sure, but somehow she sensed him watching. It had rattled her, and she nearly lost her step. Her wild gaze had scanned the woods as she struggled to catch her breath. But she hadn’t given up. She fisted her gloved hands tighter, turned her sights on the path, and kept running.

Her scars weren’t from an accident. She’d been attacked, and those cuts had been defensive wounds. Normally, unless the job demanded it, he didn’t care about a person’s secrets or past. But he cared about hers. Liked her. He could dig up her skeletons, but he wouldn’t. Her secrets were for her to tell when she was ready.

He jogged up the hill to his car and slid behind the wheel. He was parked on the other side of the lot but still had a clear view of the park and Deidre’s car.

Deidre ran daily, sometimes twice, as if her own demons chased her. He understood the need to run. To burn the endless energy that rarely gave his mind a chance to rest. To melt the ice and glimpse life on the other side of detachment.

He sat in his car, the engine running, and reached for the coffee cup. A sip produced only a few cold drops. Irritated, he crushed the cup in his hand and tossed the remains on the floor of the rental car, irritated that he’d run out.

Deidre and the blond guy from the bar last night emerged from the woods, running at a good clip. Clearly, both were very fit. They ran up to her SUV and paused briefly for a few words. He leaned in and kissed her. She smiled and kissed him back before sliding behind the wheel of her car.

As she backed out of her space, she glanced over in Alex’s direction, but he turned his face and backed his car out of the parking spot.

He drove across the lot at a steady pace, glancing toward Deidre in the rearview mirror. She was staring in his direction so he ducked his head, letting the hoodie cover his face. Deidre was a good cop. And he didn’t need her realizing he’d been there.

Alex glanced toward the empty paths that snaked into the woods. So many good places to lurk and hide. But that was for another day. Not today.

Now, it was time to get more coffee, maybe a bagel. The running group would be back here tomorrow, and he’d be ready and waiting.

Chapter Five

Sunday, January 15, 10:00 A.M.

Leah arrived at the Nashville Animal Hospital just after ten. The clinic didn’t have official office hours on Sundays, but boarding patients recovering from surgery had to be checked, fed, and walked. The third Sunday of the month was also the day her boss, Dr. Nelson, donated his time to the animal shelter. On these Sundays, the two doctors spent several hours spaying and neutering strays.

When she’d graduated from vet school, she’d seen the listing for a veterinarian position in Nashville. Though the job had excited her, the move back to her hometown had given her pause. This was where she’d lived with Philip. Where he’d almost killed her. She’d been anxious to put distance between herself, Philip, and their marriage, but the pay was good and this was her hometown, too.

When she closed and locked the front door behind her, Dr. Nelson called out, “Leah, that you?”

“It’s me, Dr. Nelson.” She paused and, before stepping away from the door, rattled the knob a couple of times to make sure it was locked. “Here to help. Does Tracker need to be walked?”

“No. Just took him out.”

“Great.” She moved to the back room, where they held the boarded animals in large, spacious enclosures. Tracker lay on a blue blanket brought from home. When she peeked in, he looked at her, yawned, and went back to sleep.

“We’ve got six cats today,” Dr. Nelson said.

She pulled off her coat as she moved through the reception area into the back. “Male or female?”

“Half and half.”

She slid on a white lab coat and met the doctor in the surgery. He stood over a large, hissing orange male tabby. The feline had a bent ear and an open wound on his right side. Dr. Nelson lifted the tabby by the scruff of the neck. The cat hissed and spit, but with practiced ease, the doctor lifted a syringe.

“That guy looks like he got into a fight.” Leah grabbed a handful of flesh behind the cat’s neck and watched as the doctor injected the sedative. Within seconds, the cat turned to dead weight.

“Judging by the scars, he’s had a rough go of it.”

She scratched the cat between the ears and smiled as his eyes closed. “We’ll get you patched right up.”

She washed her hands, donned rubber gloves, and laid out instrument trays she’d prepped the day before. The procedures promised to be quick, and if all went according to plan, they’d be done in a few hours.

The cat would be out for two hours, plenty of time to clean and stitch the wound on his side and complete his neutering.

Without thinking, she pushed up her sleeves.

Dr. Nelson adjusted the exam light above the table so he had a better view of the wound. “How’d you get that scar on your arm, Leah?”

She glanced down at the thin white scar expertly stitched by the plastic surgeon. Quickly, she lowered her sleeve and summoned the smile she always used when questions arose. During the winter, turtlenecks and long sleeves kept the questions at bay, but summer shorts and sleeveless blouses meant lots of questions and plenty of opportunities to perfect her story. “Car accident. Happened when I was in college.”

“Must have been bad.”

“Swerved to miss a dog that had gotten off his leash. Hit a tree.” The lie came tripping easily over her lips. For simplicity’s sake, she always stuck to the same story.

He glanced at her over his half glasses as she handed him a threaded suture needle. “An animal lover to the bone.”

“I suppose so.” Some of the twenty-three scars were short and small, barely scratches, while others had been deep and gaping. The one in her belly had been the most damaging. He’d plunged the knife into her gut, lacerating her intestines.

“Gail tells me you had a date last night.”

Leah glanced up, a bit surprised that they’d been talking about her. “Funny thing about the date. I got a text from the hospital telling me there was an emergency. But when I got here, the place was dark. I started to think maybe the text was stuck in the airways.”

Dr. Nelson shook his head as he sewed. “I didn’t send it. Frankly, I’m not sure if I’d know how. Could Gail have sent it?”

“I called, but she hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. A quirk. Either way, Gail will know.”

“Maybe.” She hadn’t questioned the text too closely at first because it had rescued her from the date and her growing panic attack. But now, she wondered.

The front bell of the clinic rang. Dr. Nelson glanced up at the clock. “Tracker’s uncle. Never misses a visit.”

Alex.

“It’s Sunday.”

“I don’t think the day of the week matters to him. Would you mind getting it while I finish up our little friend here?”

Her nerves tightened. “Sure.”

Leah moved through the hallway toward the main door, and when she pushed open the door to reception saw Alex standing on the other side of the glass door. He wore a dark suit, a white shirt, and a red tie, leaving her to wonder if the man owned any other type of clothing.

She turned the dead bolt and pushed open the door. “I didn’t think you’d come today.”

“I said I would check on Tracker daily.”

“I guess I thought you’d take Sunday off.”

“No. Dr. Nelson said he had surgery today and a visit would be fine.”

She stepped aside and allowed him to enter. Once he was in the lobby, she locked the dead bolt behind him, resisting the urge to click it open and then close it again. “It’s not a problem. Tracker’s sleeping in the back.”

A quick nod, and he followed her down the hallway to the holding room. When he entered, Tracker raised his head and his tail thumped. Alex moved toward the cage and opened it. The dog pushed himself up to standing and leaned into Alex’s hand while he rubbed him behind the ears and told him he’d be going home soon.

“So did you get your emergency squared away last night?”

She leaned on the doorjamb, her arms folded. Here she was relaxed, in her element. “Turns out it was a false alarm. I got here and the place was dark and locked up tight.”

A frown creased his brow as she glanced up. “That happen often?”

“Never. Odd. I’ve got a call in to my assistant to find out if she sent the text. No answer yet.”

Alex dug a chew stick from his coat pocket and handed it to Tracker. The dog immediately took it and retreated to the corner of his crate, where he greedily started chewing. Alex quietly closed the door and locked it.

He faced her, looking in command of the space even as he seemed so out of place there. “Want to try a second date?”

She pushed away from the door, a quick and sharp tension banding her muscles. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

No maybe. No gray. Black and white. “Okay.”

“Later this week.”

“I’m off evenings later in the week.”

His head tipped slightly to the right. “You said you were out of practice dating. I’m trying to figure out why.”

“Busy with school, I suppose.”

He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Really?”

“You’ve pulled yourself off the market. Why?”

Smile. Fold arms. Relax. “I don’t think I know you that well.”

He shrugged. “We’ll fix that on our next date.”

“I’m a hard case, Alex. More work than you probably can devote. You sure you want to bother?”

He crossed the room and stood within inches of her. He didn’t touch her, but the heat and energy of his body zapped around her like an electrical current. “I’m sure. I’ll call you soon, Leah.”

He moved past her in a rush of determined energy. The front door opened and she followed. He strode across the parking lot toward a black SUV as she reached for the lock and clicked it closed. Nervous energy buzzed, and she waited for him to drive off before she clicked the lock open. Closed. Open and finally, well and truly, closed.

Detective Deidre Jones arrived at the Nashville Police Department offices just after four. She hadn’t wanted to come in today, but she had to take care of business.

As she walked up to the glass-front door and caught her reflection, she paused and studied her features. Some might consider what she’d done wrong, but if they understood that survival and love had prompted her actions, they’d understand. She’d had two choices, both bad, and she’d sacked up and made a decision. Good, bad, or indifferent, she was in this game until the end. Walk a mile in her shoes and then you could judge.

She made her way to the evidence room and smiled at the officer on duty. She pulled her badge from her jacket and flipped it open. “Detective Deidre Jones.”

The young officer had a fresh-faced look that Deidre knew she’d once had. When she’d first become a cop, it had all been about catching bad guys. She’d wanted to rid the world of evil, like she was fucking Wonder Woman. The world was black and white. Good versus evil. But in a flash, the black and white had blurred. She still caught bad guys. Still considered herself one of the good ones. But she understood now that life just wasn’t as clear-cut as it once had been.

What she’d done bothered her, given her some sleepless nights. But what upset her as much as the dirty deed was that she’d confessed her secret in a moment of weakness to her soon-to-be ex-husband. At one time they’d been so close. They’d met almost four years earlier right after she’d taken the detective job with Nashville Vice. Tyler Radcliff had been working as a deputy in a small town near Nashville, and they’d met at some cop fund-raiser. It had all been wine and roses.

Loving Tyler had been so easy and perfect in those early days of their marriage. His strength had made her feel protected in a world that felt as if it were crumbling. Complete trust had gone hand in hand with love. That trust, combined with a little too much Jim Beam, had coaxed the secret loose.

When their marriage really soured she couldn’t exactly say. But the demands of her job took a toll. He certainly blamed the growing distance on her job. How many times had he said that she loved the work more than him? At first, she’d denied the accusations. Of course she loved him more. But each time he correctly pointed to yet another night he’d sat waiting for her at a restaurant or bar while she’d been finishing up a stakeout or meeting with the medical examiner.