Читать книгу In His Wife's Name - Joyce Sullivan - Страница 12

Mary was unmindful of the car tailing hers; its looming headlights in her rearview mirror were insignificant and blurred by the darkness of the night and the sleet lashing her windows. At least her meeting with her client at the country club had gone well, and he’d been open to her suggestions to smooth over his furniture company’s image in the media after a consumer’s report on the evening news had targeted it for its sales tactics. She didn’t know why public-relations crises were like fevers in sick children, which reached a flashpoint in the middle of the night.

Mary smiled, thinking about children. Babies in particular. And making a baby with Luke. Her toes had turned to ice cubes in her black leather pumps. What she needed was a hot bath, candlelight and Luke’s long lean body sharing the tub with her.

Mary stopped her sports car for a red light at a dark intersection, her mind drifting to fantasy. Too bad Luke was on duty tonight.

Without warning her door was jerked open. A hand brutally gripped her arm and attempted to pull her from the car.

Mary fought back instinctively. Honked the horn. Screamed at her attacker. In her peripheral vision, she saw a dark-clothed figure dart in front of the headlights—a woman?

Something struck Mary. Hard. Her left arm exploded with pain. Her attacker reached across her body and released her seat belt. As he dragged her free of the car, Mary saw her attacker’s face…looked straight into his eyes. Shock came in a frigid thrust she felt to the depths of her soul. In that brief all-knowing instant, Mary knew she wouldn’t survive the night.