Raising The Stakes. Sandra Marton

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       PROLOGUE

      IN THE darkness of the hot summer night, Dawn lay curled like a baby in its mother’s womb as she listened to the frantic slap, slap, slap of the silk moth’s wings against the screen.

      She couldn’t see the moth, not from here in the back bedroom, but she knew it was outside the kitchen window, shredding its beautiful wings in a useless attempt to reach the light.

      The silk moth had turned up at dusk, right after she’d fed Tommy and put him to bed for the night.

      “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” she’d whispered, and he’d given her his biggest, brightest three-year-old smile.

      “An’ don’t let the bed bugs bite,” her son had replied, as he always did.

      Dawn had kissed him, loving his sweet, baby scent. Tommy had rolled onto his belly and she’d drawn a light blanket over his upraised rump. Her smile had faded as she’d shut the door to his room and looked around the cabin, trying to see it through Harman’s eyes. Did she miss anything when she dusted earlier? Had she put all Tommy’s toys away?

      She’d paused beside the sofa, smoothed down the flowered chenille throw that covered the seat cushion where the spring had popped. Everything looked fine but what looked fine to her didn’t necessarily look that way to her husband, especially on Friday nights when he cashed his paycheck at the Foodco and then stopped for drinks on the way home.

      It didn’t always happen that way. Once in a while, Harman just came straight home. Those times weren’t perfect. He still СКАЧАТЬ