Название: No One But You
Автор: Brenda Novak
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474069397
isbn:
He said nothing, but she could tell he wasn’t fooled by the lie.
“So...how have you heard of my ex-husband?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. “He didn’t have anything to do with...with the investigation...”
“No. I was arrested by a homicide detective. Officer Harris wasn’t involved in the case. But he dropped by last night.”
Her surprise overtook her anxiety, even made her forget about the cold air that seemed to be passing through her blouse like a mesh screen. “He came here? Why?”
Rain began to plink on the roof. “To let me know he’ll be keeping an eye on me,” he replied.
“For...”
“Anything I might do he doesn’t approve of, I suppose. Sounded like he was looking forward to the challenge of keeping me in line.”
Sadie figured she shouldn’t be surprised that Sly would try to bully Dawson. He was the big, tough cop—thought he could bully anyone. Of course he’d pile on when it came to the town pariah. “Was he in uniform?”
A wry smile tugged at Dawson’s lips. “His appearance wouldn’t have had the same impact without it.”
Her nails curved into her palms as the anger and bitterness she’d had to live with for so long once again rose inside her, burning her throat like bile. “Please tell me he didn’t mention me...”
“Not by name. Said there was a woman coming to interview with me in the morning. And that she wasn’t the person I was looking for.”
She felt her jaw drop. “He threatened you?”
“If you consider ‘You’ve had enough trouble, it wouldn’t be smart to ask for any more’ a threat.”
This was the first time anyone had been brave enough to admit that Sly had attempted to ruin her chances of gaining employment.
Too upset to sit any longer, Sadie came to her feet. “That...that...” She wasn’t sure if she meant to say “That isn’t fair” or “That really pisses me off,” because both sentences ran through her mind at once. But when she got angry, she often broke into tears, especially when it came to her ex-husband. He made her feel so helpless, so easily overpowered—and he was relentless in his determination to get her back or make her pay, supremely confident he’d win in the end.
Would she never be free of him?
Falling silent for fear her voice would crack, she turned so that Dawson Reed couldn’t see her face and stared out at the rain.
Thankfully, he didn’t press her to finish her statement. He sat behind her in silence, giving her time to compose herself.
“I’m sorry,” she said when she could speak without evidence of tears in her voice. “I know you’ve been through...quite an ordeal. I...I’ll get out of your way.”
She’d already started down the stairs when he spoke. “Mrs. Harris...”
“Please, call me anything but that.” She wished she could use her maiden name, but she knew how Sly would perceive such a move, how embarrassed he’d be. She’d do it one day. She’d made a promise to herself. But, at the moment, there were too many other, more important battles to fight—and win.
“Sadie.”
The rain was falling harder now, soaking her blouse and skirt, but she didn’t care that she was getting wet. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sky, letting it wash away her makeup and run her mascara. What did things like that matter, anyway?
“Don’t leave...” Dawson had followed her. From his voice, he was right behind her, but he didn’t touch her. She wished, if he was a deranged killer intent on committing another murder, he’d hurry up and get it over with, because she no longer had the energy to keep soldiering on. Sly made her feel that cornered, that hopeless.
But then she thought of Jayden being stranded with only Sly to guide him through life and came back to the truth: she couldn’t give up. If this wasn’t going to work, she’d have to figure out some other way to build a new life.
She left him in the yard, was almost to her car when he caught up and grabbed her by the arm. Thanks to the wind and rain, she hadn’t heard him following her. She nearly screamed, but he let go as soon as she turned, lifting his hands as if he’d only been trying to get her attention and had no plans to harm her. “Stay a little longer,” he said. “Please. We haven’t talked about the job.”
Because she was unable to hold her tears in check, they rolled down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. “You can’t hire me now,” she said. “You have no idea what he’ll do. He’ll make your life so miserable you’ll wish you were still in jail.”
He wiped the rain from his own face. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“Why?”
“I need you.”
Sadie shielded her eyes with one hand. “To make your meals? To clean your house? You can do that yourself—and save a lot of money.”
“That’s not it. I won’t be able to get my sister out of the institution where they put her if I don’t have someone to look after her while I’m on the farm. She’s mentally handicapped, could try to cook and burn down the house. Or go outside and wander off. There’s a pond out back. Wouldn’t be safe if she got around it.”
Sadie had forgotten about Angela Reed! She hadn’t been mentioned in the media since Lonnie’s and Larry’s bodies were discovered. Now that he’d brought her up, however, Sadie remembered reading, early on, that the Reeds’ daughter had to be institutionalized when they were killed and Dawson was imprisoned. She also remembered reading that Angela had been home during the murders but had been left unharmed, which wasn’t a point in Dawson’s favor. The police claimed her well-being served as proof that he was behind the killings, since only those who had to be removed in order for him to inherit had been harmed. “You want to bring her here?” she asked, gesturing at the weed-infested farm.
“I’m going to bring her here,” he clarified as if nothing could stop him. “This is her home. This is where she’d prefer to be. And she’s waited long enough. We both have.”
Sadie adjusted the strap on her purse. “So what would I be doing, exactly? I’ve never cared for someone who...who can’t manage the basics. You might have to advertise for a nurse or—”
“Angela isn’t on any meds. She manages, at a very basic level. She’s similar to...to a five-year-old. Like your son. She just needs some guidance, some reassurance and oversight.”
“And you can’t do it?”
“What if she got confused and wouldn’t come out of the bathroom? Or needed help in the shower? I couldn’t go in—but you could.”
“You’re saying I’d be like a...a female companion. A babysitter.”
“Exactly. СКАЧАТЬ