Killer Smile. Marilyn Pappano

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СКАЧАТЬ about talking to him now, five years after she returned his engagement ring via her sister? The time for saying, Gee, Daniel, I’m having some doubts, was long past.

      Or, Sorry I broke your heart.

      Even, Sorry I didn’t have the nerve to humiliate you in person.

      Funny that she’d come all this way to talk and, after they left the police station, she’d said a total of nine words to him. How are you? I’m sorry. I’ll find another way.

      To do what? Clear her conscience? If she felt guilty about the way she’d ended their relationship, that was fine, but he had no absolution to offer. It was over and done with. He’d even learned something in the process: to not believe for a second that he could be the one to change her. She’d told him on their second date that she’d run out on two previous fiancés, but he’d been stupid enough to think this time would be different. He would be different. He would be the one who made her want to stay.

      Over and done with.

      He’d believed that for a long time, since he’d reached the point where he went entire weeks without thinking about her. Missing her. Wondering what he hadn’t given that made it so easy for her to leave. He’d believed it when he finally started dating again, when he’d thought he was falling in love again. It hadn’t happened—the falling in love—but he liked to think it would have if they had been at different stages in their lives.

      But if it was over and done with, why was he so darn irate?

      The Prairie Sun Hotel, located a few doors from Judge Judie’s, was a three-story building with a sandstone facade and leaded-glass double doors leading into the lobby. It had begun life as a mercantile, later became a JCPenney, then an indoor antiques mall and now was a boutique hotel. It had been an easy choice for Natasha after seeing the cookie-cutter motels on the highways leading to Tulsa. Parking in the tiny lot out back was the only downside, but she could live with that.

      She could live with it easier if she wasn’t convinced both she and her car were going to sprout mushrooms if the rain didn’t stop soon.

      Her room was on the second floor at the front and had wood floors and tall ceilings and a claw-foot tub in the bath. Instead of a closet, there was a scarred oak armoire, standing across from the vintage tubular steel bed. It was all so lovely that the only thing she would even think of changing was the line of small iron birds that danced along the top bar of both the headboard and the footboard. Not only were they just too much, as Jeffrey said about excessive decorations, their sharp beaks and wing tips looked a little dangerous for someone wandering to or from the bathroom in the middle of the night.

      She sat at the small oak table that served as a desk, her tablet and keyboard in front of her. She intended to spend the rest of the evening the way she usually did—a few games of Candy Crush, then a few chapters of whichever book caught her fancy. Fantasy tonight, she thought, with dragons and knights and self-rescuing princesses. Something that would take her out of Cedar Creek and far, far away from Daniel’s dislike.

      “You dumped him,” she muttered aloud. “Did you really expect him to be happy to see you?”

      No. She’d never thought he would be happy. He took things so seriously. Sometimes she’d wondered how someone raised by two majorly passionate people could be so cool and unemotional. Maybe he was just a version of her: coming from such a chaotic family, she’d craved quiet and calm. Maybe he’d craved rationale and reason.

      But he felt things. Felt them deeply. He’d trusted until he’d learned better. He’d been fiercely loyal until she’d showed him disloyalty. He would have done anything for her until she’d done everything to him. He was done with her. She understood that. Respected it. Accepted it.

      But it still stung.

      With the email icon on the tablet screen showing new mail, she raised one hand to swipe across it, then hesitated. The tiny hairs bristling on the back of her neck told her there would be an email from him. The reason she had made this trip. The reason she’d had to face Daniel. She wanted to indulge in childlike games: if she didn’t open the program, she wouldn’t see the email, and if she didn’t see the email, it didn’t exist. He didn’t exist.

      But he did, and all the pretending in the world couldn’t change that.

      She had the usual spam in her inbox, a funny message from her sister, Stacia, and a sweet how-did-it-go note from Archer. He was the gruffer, blunter of the two Harper men, but he had a soft spot for her, and she for him.

      And yes, there was also an email from him.

      RememberMe.

      The sight of his screen name made her skin crawl and her hand tremble when she tapped on it. Her cell phone had been blissfully silent today, but Monday he’d texted her multiple times.

      You’re late for work, Nat. Why?

      Your office said you didn’t call in. Are you sick? I should call Stacia to find out.

      Where are you, Nat?

      On Tuesday, he’d opened with...

      There’s no family emergency or Stacia would be gone, too. Where are you? What are you doing? Why are you making me worry?

      Are you too sick to answer your phone? Should I ask the dispatcher for a welfare check?

      Is this about Kyle’s accident?

      Answer me, damn it.

      His final text that night had made her shiver and hunker deeper into the covers of a cheap motel somewhere in Texas, along Interstate 40.

      I went by your apartment tonight, and your car was gone. What are you up to, Nat? Why are you doing this to me?

      What he was doing to her apparently counted for nothing, and what he’d done to Kyle...

      Goose bumps everywhere, she finally focused on the tablet screen.

      You shouldn’t have done this, Nat. But it’s okay. I’m not mad. I was, but I’m not anymore because I know I’ll find you. The connection between us is so deep and strong that I’ll always find you, and when I do—after all, Cedar Creek’s not that big—you’ll never want to leave me again.

      Damn it, he knew where she was. Deep inside, though, she wasn’t surprised. Coming here had been on the spur of the moment; on Sunday night she’d called Archer and gotten Daniel’s information, told Stacia she was leaving, packed her bags and slipped out of the apartment before dawn Monday morning. But she’d known RememberMe would figure it out. He knew everything she did.

      Swallowing hard, she pressed her hands together to stop their trembling. He made her feel so damn vulnerable. There had been times when his messages were almost sporadic, a few weeks when she hadn’t heard from him at all. She’d readjusted to life quickly, neglecting to be wary when she was out, to look over her shoulder or to search for familiar faces in unfamiliar places. Then, when she’d thought he’d moved on, that some other woman had caught his fancy, another email had found its way into her inbox, or a text to her cell phone, or a card to her mailbox.

      RememberMe. When the first emails had come, she’d thought the name was cute, a friendly question without the question remark. Hey, remember me? After what СКАЧАТЬ