Читать книгу The Virgin Mistress - Linda Turner, Linda Turner, Marilyn Pappano - Страница 9

He wouldn’t call her again.

Lying in her lonely bed that night, Rebecca stared at the ceiling in the dark and faced the fact that Austin would, in all likelihood, never call her again. She’d told him everything she could about the family and done all that she could to help him. There was little reason for him to contact her again.

She should have been relieved. By his very presence, he stirred feelings in her that had no chance of ever developing into anything but hurt and frustration, and she knew she should have been thankful to see the last of him. Instead, she’d never felt lonelier in her life.

Why, she wondered, couldn’t she be like other women? Why couldn’t she have a husband and children? Why couldn’t she know what it was like to have a man turn to her in the middle of the night and reach for her? Make love to her?

Because you can’t bear to have a man touch you, a voice in her head said flatly. Until you find a way to come to grips with that, you’ll never have anyone.

Slow tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. She’d tried, she thought, swallowing a sob. When she’d first come to live with Joe and Meredith, she’d been shy and afraid and had just wanted to hide away from the world and be left alone. She hadn’t even been able to sit at the table with the family at mealtime and eat. With time and patience and the best therapists, however, she’d started to trust again, to let people back into her life…not only Meredith and Joe, but the children, then her extended foster family and friends. Amazingly, she’d even gotten past the fear of dating. But she still hit a brick wall whenever it came to intimacy.

She’d thought she’d accepted that, but for the first time in a long time, she wanted something she couldn’t have. And it hurt. Turning over, she buried her face in her pillow and gave in to the sobs she could no longer hold back.

When she woke the next morning with a thick head and swollen eyes, she would have liked nothing better than to call in sick. But she knew she’d only brood if she stayed at home, and at work, at least, her students would keep her too busy to think of anything but them. With a groan, she rolled out of bed.

From there, everything seemed to go wrong. She couldn’t find the belt that went with her dress, the new shoes she wore hurt her feet, she misplaced her keys, and to make matters worse, she had to stop on the way to work and fill up her car with gas. By the time she walked through the front door of Coker Elementary, she was late, and Richard Foster, her boss, was waiting for her in the hallway outside the principal’s office.

“You’re late.”

Taken aback by the harshness of his tone—after all, she was only five minutes tardy and school wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes—she said breathlessly, “I know. I’m sorry. Nothing seemed to go right this morning.”

“You’re supposed to set an example for the students,” he retorted, his blue eyes diamond-hard behind the lenses of his glasses. “If you can’t be disciplined enough to be on time, how can you expect them to be?”

Technically, he had a point, and if they’d been running a boot camp, Rebecca might have agreed with him. But it was an elementary school, for heaven’s sakes, and most of the students were only just now beginning to show up for school. He wasn’t usually a clock watcher as long as his teachers were in their classrooms at least fifteen minutes before the first bell rang, and she still had five minutes to spare.

Surprised that he would nitpick over such a minor thing, she frowned. Something had to be wrong—this wasn’t like him. Then, before she could open her mouth and put her foot in it by asking if everything was okay, she remembered that he and Sylvia, his wife, were filing for divorce later that afternoon. And she’d forgotten all about it. No wonder he was in a bear of a mood, she thought sympathetically. She was friends with both of them and hated to see their marriage break up. They were one of those couples who had seemed perfect for each other.

“I’ll be more punctual next time,” she said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

She was trying to be understanding, but she might as well have saved her breath. He only nodded curtly, satisfied. “Good. See that it doesn’t.”

And it was that, more than anything, that hurt. She knew he was going through a rough time, but she hadn’t done anything to him. Dismissed, her cheeks stinging, she hurried to her classroom without a backward glance.

From there, the rest of the day went downhill. She didn’t know if the moon was out of alignment or if her students had been possessed by aliens from outer space, but each class was more disruptive than the last. By the time lunch rolled around, Rebecca was exhausted.

She told herself things couldn’t get much worse. She was wrong. At the beginning of her first class after lunch, she’d hardly turned to write the homework assignment on the blackboard when Tabitha Long let out a bloodcurdling scream that Rebecca was sure could be heard halfway down the hall. “Hughie’s got a gun!”

Startled, her heart in her throat, Rebecca whirled just in time to see the redheaded troublemaker of the class teasingly brandishing something black at Tabitha. “Hughie Bishop, you bring that here right this minute!” she ordered sternly. “Now, Hughie!”

“Awh, Miss Powell, it’s just a toy,” he grumbled, holding it up to show her that it was just a homemade slingshot carved in the shape of a gun. “I was just playing.”

Her frown fierce and disapproving, Rebecca didn’t say a word. She just held out her hand.

His shoulders slumped in dejection, Hughie dragged his feet as he slowly made his way to the front of the classroom. “I wasn’t going to hurt anybody,” he said, pouting as he dropped the slingshot into her hand. “She was making faces at me.”

Rebecca didn’t doubt that Tabitha was guilty of instigating a scene—she had an irritating habit of sticking her tongue out at the other students—but that didn’t excuse Hughie’s behavior. He knew the rules: no weapons could be brought to school for any reason. “You can’t threaten someone just because you don’t like what they’re doing,” she lectured him. “Especially with a weapon. Yes,” she said quickly when he started to object, “this is a weapon and you leave me no choice but to report this to Mr. Foster after class. In the meantime, you and Tabitha will both move to the back of the room and spend the rest of the class writing a letter for your behavior.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Tabitha cried.

Not surprised that she would paint herself totally innocent, Rebecca merely arched a brow at her. “Didn’t you? Think about it.”

Caught in the trap of her disapproving gaze, Tabitha knew better than to argue further. Hanging her head, she collected her books and moved to the back of the room. Hughie did the same, and with a sigh of relief, Rebecca placed the slingshot in the top drawer of her desk and returned her attention to the class and the homework assignment.

School policy required that any weapons brought to school be turned in to the principal’s office, and she fully intended to do that. But there was a fire drill during the next class, and halfway through the last class of the day, one of the students got sick and Rebecca had to rush her to the nurse. By the time she returned to class, she barely had time to remind the students to do their homework before the dismissal bell rang.

Finally, the day was over! Harried and exhausted after too little sleep the previous night, Rebecca completely forgot about the slingshot in the top drawer of her desk. All she wanted to do was go for a nice long ride at the ranch on her favorite horse. Then she wouldn’t have to think about anything. Grabbing her purse and briefcase, she hurried outside to her car.

Taking Rebecca’s suggestion, Austin spent the morning and early afternoon talking to Joe’s brother, Graham, and Emmett Fallon, his friend and old army buddy who had helped Joe set up his first oil well. They were both involved in Colton Enterprises and in a position to know who Joe had had business clashes with over the years. Unfortunately, the list was longer than Austin would have liked, and he couldn’t take much comfort from the fact that Graham and Emmett had included people who had only minor conflicts with Joe. The shooter had tried to commit murder in front of 300 hundred witnesses. As far as Austin was concerned, that made him a loose cannon. Anyone with the slightest grudge against Joe had to be checked out.

Frustrated, trying to imagine who would have picked such a public forum to try to commit murder, Austin headed back to the ranch. He needed to get another look at the scene of the crime, but this time in private.

Armed with the key Joe had given him, he didn’t bother to knock, but quietly let himself in and shut the front door behind him. Silence immediately engulfed him. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the place seemed deserted. Inez was there somewhere, no doubt, but Meredith was probably out shopping or playing the overprotective mom with the boys. If he was lucky, he had the entire house to himself. Pleased, he stepped through the formal, too-perfect living room and headed for the courtyard at the back of the house.

When he’d visited the ranch with his parents when he was a kid, the courtyard had always been everyone’s favorite part of the house. It offered a spectacular view of the Pacific and was a gathering place for the family at the end of the day. It was also the perfect setting for a party. From the patio, the guests could spill out onto the yard and have unlimited space to mingle…and hide in the dark, away from all the bright, decorative lights that had been strung near the house for the party.

Who, he wondered, had stood back from the lights and watched Joe, waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger? Trying to imagine the scene, Austin stepped through the French doors that opened onto the courtyard and didn’t realize it was already occupied until it was too late. Standing with her back to him and unaware of his presence, Meredith was in the process of chewing out Inez.

“What do you mean you didn’t take the dry cleaning to the cleaners?” she said sharply. “I need my red silk dress for the Smythes’ dinner party tomorrow night!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the housekeeper said. “It just slipped my mind.”

“You’re not getting paid for it to slip your mind! Do you understand? If you can’t do the job you were hired to do, I’m sure I can find someone else who can.”

Austin couldn’t believe Meredith was being so harsh over such a minor case of forgetfulness. He’d always remembered her as a kind, easygoing woman who treated servants like family. When had she become so autocratic?

He didn’t make a sound, but something must have alerted Meredith that she and Inez were no longer alone. Glancing over her shoulder suddenly, she immediately spied him standing in the doorway. “Austin! What a surprise!”

“I let myself in. Joe gave me a key, so I thought I’d check out the patio.”

For a second, he would have sworn that infuriated her. Something flashed in her brown eyes, something that came and went so fast he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it, but it left him chilled to the bone. Then she gave him a mega-bright smile that was a little too forced to be sincere. “Good. I haven’t slept a wink since that maniac tried to kill Joe. The sooner you catch him, the sooner we can all start sleeping at night.”

Her smile abruptly fading, she glanced coldly at Inez. “Get us some coffee and make sure it’s fresh brewed.”

It wasn’t until she turned back to Austin that she realized she’d made a mistake and nearly given herself away. The real Meredith would have never been so rude to the hired help. Oh, no, not her nicey-nice twin sister. She’d always been perfect, and Patsy had hated her for that.

Anger boiled in Patsy Portman like hot lava just at the thought of her sister, and it only enraged her more that she was going to have to watch herself with Austin, or he would start asking questions she couldn’t answer. If he figured out that she wasn’t really Meredith…

Paling at the thought, she stiffened. No, she was Meredith! She was! If she forgot sometimes, it was just because she couldn’t turn around without running into someone asking questions they had no business asking. First the police, and now Austin. Damn them all, how long did they think she could keep up this act when they kept pressuring her? If someone ran her fingerprints through the police computers, her prison record was going to pop up like a piece of burnt toast.

Feeling like she was coming unraveled, she swallowed a giggle at the thought. No! She had to get control. She needed her pills. But she couldn’t take them in front of Austin. Then he would know. Then everyone would know. She had to get it together. She was Meredith. Sweet, irritatingly pleasant Meredith.

Suppressing a shudder, she forced a tight smile and tried to repair the damage by saying sweetly, “Oh, and Inez? Don’t worry about the dry cleaning. I’ll wear the black lace. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said softly. “I’ll get your coffee.”

When the housekeeper scurried away, Patsy didn’t need to see Austin’s frown to know that she’d done little to redeem herself. For that alone, she wanted to scream at him. For as long as she could remember, she’d never measured up to Meredith. They may have looked just alike, but it was her twin who’d always known just how to act and what to say. Everything had come to her, dammit! Everything! While Meredith had played it up big in Washington parties as a senator’s wife, then later socialized in her fancy house with the rich and beautiful in California, Patsy had been serving time in prison for murder. Then there was that awful time she spent at the St. James Clinic for the mentally ill. It wasn’t fair!

In spite of what the doctors had said, she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t, dammit! She’d just wanted the charmed existence her sister led. So when she’d seen a chance to get rid of her and take over her life nine years ago, she hadn’t hesitated. And no one had been the wiser.

That wasn’t to say it had been easy. She’d had to keep a tight rein on her temper, and that had been a constant struggle. She hadn’t been able to do it indefinitely. Gradually, she’d showed sides of her true self, always using the excuse that she was tired or stressed or just not feeling like herself. And over the years, everyone had come to accept the changes in Meredith’s personality without being aware of it.

Austin, however, hadn’t been around to witness those changes in Meredith. He hadn’t seen her in years, and if Patsy wasn’t careful, he’d start to wonder why his now sharp-tongued aunt was so different from the simpering sweet one he remembered from his childhood.

He was a huge threat to her, and not just because there was a possibility he might notice the changes in her. The man had the eyes of a wolf. She wouldn’t be able to fool him the way she had Thaddeus Law and the other detectives who’d investigated the shooting. Those yo-yos never even suspected that there had been two attempts against Joe’s life that night. They’d gone over the grounds with a fine-tooth comb and completely missed the fact that she’d put poison in Joe’s champagne right before the birthday toast.

Poison, she thought resentfully, that he’d never gotten a chance to drink. He’d dropped the glass when the shooter took a shot at him.

Thankfully, the poisoned champagne had soaked into the ground when it spilled and there was no evidence to connect her to an attempt against Joe’s life. But Patsy wasn’t stupid enough to think that she was out of the woods. Not now. Not with Austin on the case. She’d heard of the cases he’d solved in Portland, cases that his co-workers had long since given up on. When he’d quit the police department after he’d been shot in a shoot-out with drug lords, his supervisors had tried everything they could to change his mind, even going so far as to promise him outrageous promotions if he’d only stay. A man like that wouldn’t rest until he cracked a case and hunted down all guilty parties.

And that infuriated her. Damn Joe! When she’d found out he’d hired Austin, she’d wanted to poison his drink all over again. He’d given him a key to the house, for God’s sake! He could come and go as he pleased, and just thinking about it made her break out in a cold sweat. If she hadn’t already been on the patio chewing out Inez she never would have known he was there!

So what the hell was she going to do about him?

Keep a close eye on him and distract him as much as possible from his investigation without being obvious, she concluded. It was the only way. But dammit, she couldn’t watch the front door every minute of the day!

Fuming, desperate for her pills, she sank down into one of the patio chairs and gave him a look of concern that could have fooled the Pope himself. “I never thought to ask the police, but do you think it’s safe for us to still use the patio? What if the man who tried to kill Joe is still out there somewhere, watching us?”

Her eyes deliberately wide, she turned to look out at the magnificent view of the ocean and was proud of the little shiver of fear she was able to manufacture. “He could be in a boat, with a high-powered rifle, pretending to be fishing and waiting for a chance to kill us all…”

“What makes you think it’s a man?”

Expecting him to rush to reassure her that she had no need to be afraid, Patsy blinked. “Well, because it is!”

“How do you know that? Did you see the shooter?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t see anything.”

“But you were standing right next to Joe, weren’t you? I believe he pulled you down to the ground when the shot rang out. What happened right before that? Were you looking out at the crowd? Did you notice anyone who looked particularly angry? You must have seen something.”

Furious that he was putting her on the spot, it was all she could do not to cuss him out. Damn him, who did he think he was, questioning her? She was Mrs. Joe Colton, by God, even if she wasn’t the real Meredith, and she didn’t have to take this from him or anyone else!

But even as the hot words sprang to her tongue, she bit them back. No, she thought furiously. She’d be damned if she’d let him push her into losing control and destroying everything. Because once she lost it, she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back again, and that terrified her. She wasn’t going back to the St. James Clinic! she thought fiercely. Or any other lockup for crazies. There was nothing wrong with her. She just had to remain calm and think straight.

It wasn’t easy. There was a tight knot of nerves in her gut that burned like the fires of hell. “It all happened so fast, it’s hard to remember what happened,” she said stiffly. “Before the shooting, I was busy playing hostess and making sure there was plenty of champagne for the toasts. When the shot rang out, I was looking at Joe, just like everyone else. I didn’t see anything.”

That seemed to be the favorite line of everyone he talked to, Austin thought in annoyance, and that was nothing short of amazing. A man had nearly been killed in front of three hundred guests, and no one claimed to have seen anything!

Frowning, he said, “So you don’t know who was standing at the edge of the crowd? You didn’t see anyone sneak off into the shadows? Hell, I’d be happy if you could just tell me if anyone disappeared for a while. But I guess you didn’t notice that, either.”

When she gave him a look that should have dropped him in his tracks, Austin expected her to blast him with a few choice words, but he had to give her credit. Visibly holding on to her temper, she said tightly, “No, I didn’t. I told you I was busy. There’s nothing else I can say.”

If she wasn’t going to be any help to him, Austin wished she would find something else to do and leave him alone so he could work, but that, apparently wasn’t going to happen. Instead of excusing herself, she settled more comfortably in her chair, as if she was prepared to stay awhile, probably as long as he was there. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This was her house, after all. He couldn’t very well demand that she make herself scarce in her own home.

Resigned, he said, “According to Joe’s written notes of the shooting, the two of you were standing on the stage for the band, but he doesn’t say where that was.”

“It was set up at the end of the patio, on the left side,” she retorted. “It was so crowded, a lot of the guests had spilled from the patio out onto the lawn.”

“And the shot came from out in the yard somewhere?”

She shrugged. “It’s hard to say. The floodlights for the stage were blinding and it was impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the patio.”

Disgusted, Austin swore softly. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Standing at the edge of the patio, he surveyed the surrounding area with a scowl and silently acknowledged that the shooter had chosen a perfect setting in which to try to commit murder. He’d waited until it was dark, and the house and patio were crawling with people. When it came time for the toast, everyone was looking at Joe, so all the shooter had to do was stand at the back of the crowd, wait for the right moment to pull the trigger, then step back into the darkness, just beyond the reach of the lights. In the chaos that followed the shooting, he could have walked around the house, entered through the front door and merged with the rest of the party-goers and no one would have suspected a thing.

“Whoever did this had to be nuts,” he said half to himself. “Joe’s not the kind to generate anger in people—he makes friends wherever he goes. I can’t believe anyone would hate him enough to try to kill him.”

“It does seem crazy,” Meredith agreed. “But there’s a lot of nuts walking around loose. And Joe is so easy-going that he thinks everyone is like him. But they’re not. Not everyone can let bygones be bygones. Joe always got along with the parents of the foster children we raised, but deep down inside, some of them had to resent the fact that they weren’t raising their own children. Who knows? Maybe one of them was the shooter.”

That was an option Austin hadn’t even considered. At this point, he couldn’t overlook anyone. Turning back to Meredith he pulled the guest list from the notebook he’d brought with him. “I’ll need to know which of the guests are from the foster families.”

Only too happy to direct suspicion away from herself, Patsy obligingly gave him the names.

In spite of that, however, she didn’t fool herself into thinking she’d cleared herself as a suspect. There were any number of family members, not to mention so-called friends, who had probably already told Austin that her marriage to Joe had deteriorated over the years. It was only a matter of time before he asked her why. She’d lie, of course, not that it would do her any good. With those emerald-green eyes of his, he could see through a lie in a split second, damn him. If he started asking her questions she couldn’t answer and really put the pressure on her and made her mad, God only knew what she’d say or do.

Her heart slamming against her ribs, she told herself she couldn’t let that happen. Because if she snapped and gave herself away, she’d lose the boys and she’d get locked up again. And while she might find a way to bear prison again, she couldn’t lose her boys. Not Joe and Teddy. They were hers, dammit. Hers! Joe, Jr. didn’t have a drop of Colton blood in him, and Teddy was a result of a hot quickie with Joe’s brother, Graham, in the guest bathroom during a dinner party. Granted, that had been a mistake—she never would have taken a chance on getting pregnant if she’d known Joe was sterile—but she couldn’t regret that now. They were her babies, and she wouldn’t risk losing them.

Talk! she told herself fiercely. Distract him. Do whatever you have to to keep his focus off you.

Before she could speak, the patio door opened behind them and they both turned in time to see Rebecca step out onto the patio.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, startled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just on my way to the barn.”

“For a ride?” Pleased, Patsy thought things couldn’t have worked out better if she’d planned them herself. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Why don’t you take Austin with you? It’s been years since he was here last, and he’s probably forgotten how beautiful it is.

“That’s okay with you, isn’t it, Austin?” Patsy continued smoothly, turning her attention to him before Rebecca could say a word. “I know you’re working, but everybody needs a break once in a while. It’ll do you good.”

Trapped, there wasn’t much the two of them could do except exchange polite looks. “Company would be nice,” Rebecca said.

“A ride would blow some of the cobwebs out of my head,” Austin added.

Hiding her contempt—how easily manipulated they were—Patsy shooed them toward the barn. “Then go on. Get out of here and enjoy yourselves.”

Left with no choice, Rebecca fell into step with Austin and they headed for the barn. For what seemed like an eternity, neither of them said a word. Rebecca had never felt so awkward in her life. “I’m sorry about that,” she said finally. “I know you didn’t really want to take time away from your work, but Meredith can be pretty insistent sometimes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Actually,” he said honestly, “the only reason I hesitated was because I didn’t want to intrude on your ride. Don’t feel like you have to do this. I can go back to work if you want to be alone.”

“Oh, no!” How could he think that? “I’d like some company,” she said shyly as they entered the barn. “It was an awful day at school today, and I’d just like to forget everything and have some fun.”

His green eyes dancing, he said dryly, “I think I can manage that.” And before she could guess his intentions, he had his mount saddled and had stepped into the stirrups. “Race you!” he challenged, and was off like a shot, leaving her and her horse flatfooted.

“Hey!” Vaulting into the saddle, Rebecca sent her favorite mare bounding after him, and it didn’t take her long to catch him. Her smile wide and her eyes dancing, she bent low over her mare’s neck and headed for the beach. The race was on.

There was no finish line. With the wind whistling through their hair and the low rolling hills of the ranch flying past them, they rode neck-and-neck, broad smiles lighting their faces. And when they reached the beach and both pulled up by unspoken agreement, they were laughing.

Rebecca couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun, and that should have been enough to set off alarm bells in her head. Getting to know him better was a mistake. It would only deepen her feelings of loneliness when he returned to Portland. She knew that, accepted it, but she couldn’t worry about next week or next month. Not when the day had just turned wonderful. Loving the feel of the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, she wanted to laugh out loud with joy.

“That was great!” she said, grinning at him. “C’mon. I’ll show you my favorite spot on the whole ranch.”

Leading the way, she took him to a secluded rocky cove down on the beach. Years ago, Meredith had taken her to that same spot when she’d first come to the ranch to live. Overwhelmed—not only by the ranch, but by the Colton family and the foster children they’d welcomed into their home so easily—she’d been feeling very lost that day and Meredith had sensed it. So she’d taken her to the cove to show her her secret hideaway.

There’d been no other footprints but theirs that day, and Rebecca had loved it. The pounding of the surf against the shore and the cry of the gulls had given her a serenity she’d found nowhere else on earth, and to this day, whenever she was feeling low, she only had to close her eyes to feel the spray of the Pacific on her face and the damp sand under her feet.

Nothing, however, beat being there in person. Unable to resist the call of the pristine sand that had been washed clean by the waves, she dismounted and looked up with a smile when Austin joined her. “Isn’t it beautiful here? When I first came to live here, Meredith and I used to have picnics on the beach here all the time.”

Her tone was wistful—she could hear it in her voice—and she wasn’t surprised when Austin heard it, too. Frowning, he said, “Don’t you go on picnics now? You two seem so close.”

“We used to be,” she said. “I admired her so much. She was wonderful with the foster children, and I loved helping her with them. But after the accident, she didn’t have time for picnics. Her priorities changed.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “There were little changes at first. She became totally devoted to Joe Junior—then she had Teddy and was the same way with him. Later, she got wrapped up in her social schedule, and she just didn’t have time to do the things we used to do.”

She didn’t have time for me anymore, Rebecca added silently. And she didn’t know why. She just knew Meredith was different, and they weren’t as close as they’d once been. And the only explanation she had for it was the accident.

The thought saddened her, and the mood was somber as they returned to the house, where they found themselves guests at a small dinner party. Feeling underdressed in riding clothes, Rebecca felt her heart sink at the sight of a former congressman and a famous Hollywood producer who had joined the family in the courtyard for before-dinner drinks. Why, she wondered in frustration, did Meredith insist on inviting the entire world to dinner? When she’d first come to the ranch, one of the things she’d loved the most about living there had been the family suppers in the eat-in kitchen. They’d been homey and fun and intimate and given everyone a chance to catch up on each other’s day.

But those times were, unfortunately, long gone, and now it seemed like there were always outsiders around. Meals were much more formal and in the dining room. And Rebecca hated it. Given the chance, she would have used the excuse that she had homework to grade and left. But she’d had so much fun with Austin that she hated to see the evening end. And one look at his resigned expression and she knew he wasn’t any more thrilled than she at the idea of attending a dinner party. The least she could do was stick around and help him through it.

Fortunately, it didn’t turn out to be as bad as Rebecca had anticipated. The conversation shifted back and forth between politics and the movie industry, and the discussions on the future of both were lively and sometimes more than a little intense. But Joe was in his element, his blue eyes sparkling with interest, and for the first time since the shooting, he seemed like his old self. Rebecca could have sat there for hours, just listening to him talk.

Meredith, however, changed the entire mood with just a few carelessly chosen words. The meal was almost over—Inez was serving her fabulous praline cheesecake—when Meredith took advantage of a sudden lull in the conversation to turn her attention on Austin. “So, Austin,” she said brightly, “how is the investigation going now that you’ve had time to check out the guest list? You must have narrowed down some suspects.”

Just that easily, silence fell like a rock. For a moment, Austin didn’t say a word. A muscle clenched in his jaw, and he just looked at her. But everyone at the table was waiting for his answer, and he finally said quietly, “I can’t discuss that at this point. The investigation is ongoing, and I still have a lot of leads to follow up.”

“But what about suspects?” she pressed. “You must have some idea of who the shooter is by now. You’ve been talking to people all week.”

“This kind of case takes time to solve,” he retorted. “You don’t do it overnight.”

“But—”

“That’s enough, Meredith,” Joe growled. Glaring at her from the opposite end of the dining room table, he gave her a hard look that anyone who knew him well was familiar with. Without saying a word, he told her to shut up. Glancing at his guests, he smiled wryly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to talk about violence at the dinner table. It doesn’t do a lot for the digestive system.”

Far from intimidated by his warning look, Patsy just barely resisted the urge to scream at him. How dare he correct her in front of guests! She could talk about anything she wanted to, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it!

“I would have thought you’d want to know who your enemies are,” she said coldly. “But if you want to live in a fairy tale and pretend everything is hunky-dory, go ahead. I know where you want to be buried.”

Urged on by that voice in her head that always seemed to get her in trouble, Patsy knew she may have gone too far, but she didn’t care. He could be such a jackass sometimes. She didn’t know what Meredith had ever seen in him. If he hadn’t been so damn rich, she, herself, would have walked away from him years ago. But she’d been alone and poor before, and rich was better—even if that meant she did have to put up with Joe Colton.

Not, she silently amended with a secret smile, that she might have to do that for much longer. Somebody else out there wanted him dead. They’d tried to kill him once. They were bound to try to do it again. And next time they just might succeed. Then she’d have all that lovely money to herself, and she’d never have to deal with Joe Colton again.