Читать книгу Part-Time Wife - Сьюзен Мэллери - Страница 8

Chapter Four

“How was your day?” Jill asked as Craig took the aspirin and swallowed.

He hesitated, not sure how to answer her question. A lot of his special project was confidential. Before he could decide what to tell her she settled in the seat opposite him and wrinkled her nose.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said briskly. “I understand you’re involved in something secret. I wasn’t asking to get privileged information, I was just being polite. You know. How was your day? My day was fine. That sort of thing.”

She tugged on a sleeve of her sweatshirt, pulling the cuff until it was up near her elbow. As she repeated the procedure on her other arm, he noticed how small and delicate her wrists were.

“I’m not used to someone asking,” he said at last, mostly because it was the truth. Lately no one had been around enough to bother. He leaned back in his chair and studied the bottle of beer in front of him. “It was…difficult. Every time I think I’m immune to the scum of the world, they manage to surprise me.”

She scooted forward and rested her elbows on the table. “What are they doing now?”

“I can’t talk about the specifics of the case, but I’ll tell you what was reported in the press.” He grimaced. “Not on the front page, of course. Someone ripping off the elderly isn’t exciting enough.”

“Is that what’s going on?”

“Yeah. There’s a ring of three, maybe four people who get in accidents with senior drivers. They’ll stop suddenly so they get rear-ended, or they turn left on a yellow light and drive slow enough to get hit. Anything to make the victims think the accident is their fault. Then they pretend to be concerned, talking about how an aging parent lost his or her license because of an accident. They mention increased insurance rates. It’s based on truth, which makes it more frightening for the victims. Often they convince the senior drivers to pay in cash for damages to the car.”

“The price of which is several times what it’s supposed to be, right?” Jill asked, her green eyes flashing with anger. “How horrible. I don’t understand people like that. It’s cruel and ugly. I’m glad you’re doing something to stop them.”

Craig stared at her, surprised by the vehemence of her reaction. Sometimes he talked to his brothers about his work. Except for Jordan, they were cops and they understood. Krystal never had. When he’d tried to talk about his work, she’d gotten bored. In her opinion the fools of the world got what they deserved.

Now, with the perfect vision of hindsight, he wondered what he’d ever seen in her. But he already knew the answer to that question. At twenty-two she’d been stunningly beautiful with a body that could tempt a saint. She knew how to use her best assets to her advantage, and for some reason, she’d set her sights on him. He hadn’t been thinking with his head when he’d proposed. The worst of it was, he couldn’t even regret what had happened between them. Marrying Krystal had been a mistake, but he would do it all over again if given the choice. The reward of his children wasn’t something he could wish away.

“It’s slow going,” he said, and shrugged. “I’m working with a team of elderly citizens. We’re mounting a sting operation.”

She grinned. “I bet they’re great to work with.”

“They are,” he agreed. “There’s this one woman, Mrs. Hart. She lives alone. She’s got to be seventy, but you’d never know it. She’s been begging me to let her wear a wire.” He glanced at Jill. “A microphone and tape. She keeps cruising around the seniors center and the bingo halls, hoping they’ll pick her. I keep telling her she’s seen too many movies.”

“She sounds terrific.”

“Yeah.” His smile faded and he hunched over his beer. “I hope they don’t get her. A couple of the accidents didn’t go as planned. The timing was off, or the jerks doing this stopped too soon. A woman was killed.”

“Oh, Craig.” She reached across the table and touched his hand with her fingers. The light brush wasn’t erotic. Nor was it meant to be. Instead, the caring gesture offered comfort and he accepted it.

“We’ll get ’em. I don’t usually do this kind of work, but the detectives needed some assistance and I volunteered. When the hours keep me away from the kids, I try to justify it by telling myself I’m doing the right thing.”

“You are,” she assured him. She pulled her hand away and laced her fingers together on the edge of the table. “Why a cop?”

“That’s easy. I come from a long line of cops. Four generations on my dad’s side. All my uncles—my dad was one of six. Two of my brothers. Jordan’s the only holdout. He’s a fire fighter. We tease him about it.” Craig took a sip of beer. “If you ask me, anyone voluntarily going into a burning building day after day is crazy.”

“Some people would say that about what you do.”

“Maybe.”

The corners of her mouth tilted up. “So you’re one of four boys, you have five uncles and three boys of your own. There aren’t many girls in your family, are there?”

“There hadn’t been one born in four generations. My brother Travis had a girl, though.”

“Oh, progress for the female gender.”

“Jordan has a theory that Haynes men only have girls when they’re in love. If it’s true, it doesn’t say much about the last four generations of husbands. Or my marriage. Elizabeth—that’s Travis’s wife—says it’s more about the female being predisposed to accept male or female sperm. She pointed out that she’s one of three girls, and she comes from a family that mostly has daughters. I guess when Kyle and Sandy have their baby we’ll know who’s right.”

Jill was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “You look lost,” he said.

“I am. All these names. How big is your family?”

“I have three brothers and Austin. He’s family, but not by blood.”

“Where are your folks?”

He didn’t like talking about that, but it was a reasonable question. “My mom took off about fifteen years ago. My dad hadn’t been much of a husband. He fooled around constantly. She took it for as long as she could, then one day she walked out. She didn’t bother packing a bag or leaving a note. She just left. We never saw her again.”

“If she didn’t take any luggage, how do you know—” She bit on her lower lip.

“How do we know something didn’t happen to her?”

She nodded.

“Jordan saw her leave. She told him she’d had it and wasn’t coming back. He was only seventeen and didn’t know what to do. He came to me. I was already out of college and living on my own. I told him to keep what he heard to himself. It was hard on all of us. Probably hardest on Kyle, because he’s the youngest.”

Her green eyes were wide and dark with emotion. It wasn’t pity. Maybe concern. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. My brothers and I were always close, but after that we pulled together more. My dad remarried a couple of times, then moved to Florida. I haven’t seen him since before Ben was born.” And he didn’t want to. He would never forgive his father for what he’d done to the family.

“You’ll meet my brothers while you’re here,” he said. “We get together a lot.”

“It sounds nice, but a little overwhelming. I’m an only child. As it is, I’m going to have my hands full adjusting to living with a houseful of men.” She grinned. “I’m thrilled to have my own bathroom so I won’t have to fight to keep the toilet seat down.”

“I trained them better than that. It shouldn’t be a problem anywhere.”

She looked at the table, then at him. Her full mouth straightened. “You know, Craig, despite how you’re beating yourself up right now, you’ve done a good job with the boys.”

“I don’t think I want to know how you read my mind.”

“It wasn’t hard. I think most single parents worry that they’re not doing enough. Add to that the pressures that go with your job and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. But from what I saw today, they’re good kids.”

“I can’t take credit for that,” he said. “Everything is so messed up.” Ben. What was he going to do about his oldest?

“Divorce has a way of doing that to families.”

He took a swallow of beer. “So what’s your story?”

“It’s not very interesting.” She leaned back in her chair and raised her hands, palms up. “I met a man I loved and who I thought loved me. It was a whirlwind courtship. I married him, and his two daughters came to live with us.” She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.

“Patti and Heather were so sweet. I adored them. I wanted to be their mother. I did everything I could for them. I was working, so I didn’t have a lot of time.” She paused, as if thinking. “I was working extra hours. Aaron had high alimony payments so I supported the household. I really didn’t mind. Looking back, I suppose I should have.”

“How long has it been?”

“Eighteen months. I know what you’re thinking. That I should be over it by now. In a way I am. It’s just that I tried too hard not to think about it, and then one day I couldn’t think about anything else.”

“I’m surprised Aaron allowed you to support his two kids.” He shook his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be. My ex-wife used to tell me that I was old-fashioned. According to her, my philosophies about men and women went out with hoopskirts.”

“We never really talked about it,” she said. “I sort of offered and he accepted. It was an unspoken rule in our family. He didn’t have to say what he wanted or needed. I just knew.”

Craig understood about that kind of selfishness. He’d grown up watching his father expect the same from his mother. “But he never bothered figuring out what you wanted.”

She shook her head. “The really sad part is, until a few months ago, I had convinced myself I didn’t want anything at all. That just being part of the family was enough.”

He and Krystal had been the same way, except in his case, he’d been the one anticipating her needs. She’d taken easily, without once feeling the need to give back. As a point of honor, he’d done the opposite of his father. He’d sworn fidelity. Foolishly, he’d expected the same. But Krystal had never agreed with him about that. In fact, they’d agreed on very little.

Jill drew in a slow breath. “Eventually I figured out Aaron married me to get custody of the children. It hurt, but I got over it. Then one day we ended up in court.”

She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her calves. He wanted to move around the table and comfort her. The impulse surprised him. He’d known this woman less than twenty-four hours. Yet there was something about the night. Something about the moment and the confessions that made it seem that they’d known each other for much longer. Maybe it was the shared pain. Like wounded warriors, they talked about their injuries and knew what the other had endured.

“His ex-wife won back custody of her daughters and just like that the girls were gone.” She blinked several times. “Then Aaron didn’t need me anymore.”

Everything about her—the way her shoulders hunched forward, the set of her mouth, her fingers locked so tightly together that her knuckles turned white—told him there was more to the story. But he didn’t ask.

She looked up and forced a shaky smile. “I tell myself it’s Aaron’s loss. I doubt I was the best wife in the world, but I tried hard, and I make a dynamite meat loaf. How many people can claim that kind of f-fame?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

She cleared her throat and continued. “I could have handled it,” she said softly. “If only someone had told me it was just temporary. I wouldn’t have felt like such a fool. I would have made sure it wouldn’t hurt so bad.”

“Your ex-husband and my ex-wife should be locked up together. They deserve each other.”

She glanced at him. “I thought you said Krystal was, ah, you know.”

“Dead?”

She nodded.

“She is. But they still deserve each other. Aaron sounds like a jerk.”

“Don’t expect me to defend him,” she said. “I’m done with that. And while I appreciate the words of support, I’d like to remind you that you’ve known me a day. You’ve only heard my side of this story. His is probably completely different.”

“Maybe, but I’ll take your word for what really happened. I’m sure Aaron regrets the loss. You’ve got a lot going for you.”

She chuckled. “Oh, sure. I have a temporary job, after which I’ll be unemployed again. I’m divorced and just turned thirty. Men are lining up for miles.”