Woman in Black by Eileen Goudge

Author:Eileen Goudge
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504015622
Publisher: Open Road Media

Sliding the patio door shut behind her, Abigail paused to lean against it for a moment with her forehead pressed to the cold glass. Through the closed louvered doors to the living room, she could hear her husband and daughter on the other side. Phoebe had segued from show tunes to more traditional holiday fare. She was playing “Winter Wonderland,” Kent singing along in his somewhat rusty but still serviceable tenor. Abigail shivered inside her mink coat. She might have been standing there naked, she felt so chilled. Chilled and shaken. Like a martini, she thought. Which she could use right now: a little liquid cheer to take the edge off. Lord knew nothing else seemed to be working.

Vaughn’s kiss, however sweet, had only served to reinforce the knowledge that her marriage was on shaky ground. If she’d thought it would put an end to any nagging questions about what might have been, or provide what her former shrink would have called closure (a ridiculous concept, if there ever was one), it had had the opposite effect: She was more confused than ever. What did she feel for Vaughn? Was it love? Or was she merely seeking to recapture a more innocent time in her life? Something she could hold on to while the life she’d built for herself—out of substandard materials, it had turned out—teetered on the brink of collapse?

And it wasn’t just her marriage that was in trouble. Perez had reported earlier in the week that the Delgado woman was indeed on her way here, presumably for some sort of showdown—it had been confirmed by a relative of hers. What did she want? More money? She’d rejected the money Perez had offered on Abigail’s behalf, so maybe she was holding out for a larger sum and thought that a face-to-face with Abigail was the way to get it. Somehow, though, Abigail didn’t think that was it.

What was she after, then—revenge? Was she going to go public with this? Make Abigail the new object of the media hounds’ bloodlust? Whatever her intentions, one thing was for sure: Her being in this country spelled trouble.

Abigail regretted now more than ever having taken Perez’s advice. She should have flown down to Mexico immediately after the fire and met with the Delgado woman herself, if only to let her know how truly sorry she was. Now it was too late; the damage was done.

Abigail straightened and drew in a breath. “Merry Christmas,” she muttered grimly to herself.

The scene she encountered when she walked into the living room was straight out of a Hallmark commercial: Her husband and daughter, their songfest concluded, snuggled on the sofa in front of the crackling fire, with Brewster curled asleep at their feet. Kent was telling Phoebe one of his stories, which she never seemed to tire of—tales of the blue-blooded, Yankee Doodle Dandy Christmases he’d enjoyed as a boy at his parents’ country house in Fairfield, Connecticut. Seeing them together like that, so perfectly at ease and attuned to each other, Abigail felt something catch in her chest.

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