Madigan's Wife. Linda Winstead Jones

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СКАЧАТЬ looked at Ray, really looked at him. He was dressed in soft, cool blues, yet the morning sun made him appear golden and warm. The light shone favorably on slightly waving pale brown hair and tanned skin. His stance was casual, easygoing, but for the hint of tension in his hands and the set of his neck.

      He squinted slightly against the bright sunlight, deepening the new wrinkles around his eyes, and her heart leapt. All her work, her dogged determination to put Ray behind her, had been for nothing. A waste of time. Because right now she was overcome with the certainty that she could hide in the shelter of his arms and he would protect her from anything, from everything. She had the urge to go to him right now, to press her face against that chest and breathe deep, to hold on…just for a while longer. Heaven help her, what she felt for him was so much more than a need to hide.

      He’d touched her. She’d touched him. Old desires she’d thought long gone flitted to the surface to tease and taunt her. He looked so deliciously inviting she was tempted to fall into his arms again and stay there. She didn’t, of course. Reluctantly wanting Ray was one thing. Relying on him to fill the void in her life would simply be asking for trouble she didn’t need.

      Ray never gave away much with his facial expressions, and this moment was no different. There was no emotion on his handsome face, no annoyance or concern or affection. He was cool and calm, almost indifferent. In spite of it all, she was glad he stood beside her. Where would she have run if not to Ray?

      “You believe me, don’t you?” she asked as he headed for the curb.

      Before he reached the car he spun around to face her. “Of course I do.” He said the words as if not believing was unthinkable.

      She nodded her head as she joined him. He opened the passenger-side door and she dropped into the seat. “Thank you,” she said as he closed the door. She had to learn to put her mixed feelings for Ray aside and accept their present circumstances. He was a friend, the best friend she’d ever had. Anything else was impossible.

      She trusted Ray with her life, but she did not trust him with her heart. Not anymore.

      He shut the door without responding to her thanks, and for a moment Grace gazed out over the park. It was too early, still, for mothers to be out with their children, as they would be later, so the place was almost deserted. Still she felt a chill, as if someone were watching.

      She wrote the warning chill off to nerves as Ray cranked the engine and pulled away from the park.

      Cops. He could smell them a mile away, and those two, with the woman, they were definitely cops.

      Standing behind a wide-trunked tree and watching the second of the two gray cars pull away from the curb, Freddie laid a hand over his cheek where the woman had kicked him. For a little thing she packed quite a punch. Quite a surprising punch. His jaw still hurt like hell, but fortunately nothing was broken.

      He lowered his hands and thrust them impatiently into the pockets of his trench coat, silently cursing the woman. She’d surprised him, caught him off guard. And she didn’t fight fair. If he wasn’t in public he’d cradle his battered privates, as well.

      He should kill the woman simply for hurting him, but he never, never killed anyone in a fit of anger. This was business, and he was a professional. Besides, killing the witness now would only give credence to her claims. He couldn’t have that.

      At the present time he wasn’t particularly worried. There was no evidence that a crime had been committed. That one cop, the one who had arrived alone, obviously didn’t believe her. Freddie gave in to a crooked smile. The body that currently rested in the trunk of his car wouldn’t be found for weeks, maybe even months. The death would be made to look like an accident, as the client had requested, so odds were no one would even make a connection to the woman’s wild story and the tragic accident that took the life of one of Huntsville’s most respected businessmen.

      He walked away from the tree and towards his parked car, limping just a little in deference to his throbbing, aching privates. Just to be safe, he’d dump the old Thunderbird coupe. Dammit, he hated to do that. It had been a good car. But, he thought without rancor, it was just a car. It could be replaced.

      This afternoon he’d be paid the second half of his hefty fee. He should get out of town immediately, but he didn’t like to leave loose ends. Maybe he’d keep an eye on the woman for a while. Just to be safe.

      Chapter 3

      Ray wasn’t surprised to see Luther come strolling into his private office unannounced. Doris had always been a little afraid of the irascible Detective Luther Malone; she let him have the run of the place. She was usually such a stickler for making clients and visitors wait, guarding his domain from her post in the outer office like a friendly but potentially dangerous guard dog.

      “So,” Luther said, propping himself on the edge of a messy desk. “What’s up with Grace?”

      “I took her home to shower and change clothes, and then I drove her to work,” Ray said, closing the file before him. “She’s still shook up, but figured working would be better than sitting around thinking about what happened.”

      Luther raised his eyebrows and shot Ray a look of sheer disbelief as he reached into his pocket for a piece of hard candy. Peppermint. “You didn’t buy that story, did you?”

      He’d known from the start, as Grace had, that Luther was skeptical about her account; they’d worked together too long not to be able to read each other’s reactions to any given situation, not that Luther was exactly subtle these days. “Why would she make it up?” he asked calmly.

      “I was hoping you could tell me.”

      Until recently, they’d had an unspoken agreement not to speak about Grace. She was a forbidden subject. Right now Ray saw more than skepticism in Luther’s eyes; he saw a detective’s unquenchable curiosity. Luther had a ton of questions that had nothing to do with murder.

      Ray leaned back in his chair, not quite ready to satisfy that curiosity. “I’m telling you, she was spooked when she showed up at my place.”

      “Really?” Luther said dryly. “That’s another thing that bothers me. She ran all the way to your apartment, instead of stopping at one of the many houses she had to pass to get there.”

      “Instinct,” Ray said slowly. “She was scared so she went looking for someone familiar.”

      “You guys are divorced and have been for years,” Luther grumbled. “Why would she go to you, of all people, when there’s trouble?”

      Ray flashed a wide smile. “You know all my ex-wives still adore me and depend on me to take care of them. Gracie’s no different.”

      His smile didn’t falter as Luther shot him a biting glance that said, too clearly, that Grace was different. Luther knew too much.

      “I have no body,” Luther said in a low voice. “No blood, no sign of a struggle, not a single corroborating witness, even though this supposedly happened right out in the open. I’m looking for a big dark car, and a big guy with medium brown hair under a baseball cap, a trench coat and hard-soled shoes, and evil pale eyes. Blue or green, take your pick.”

      “And a temporary limp,” Ray added lightly.

      Luther delved in his coat pocket for another piece СКАЧАТЬ