Never Look Back by Robert Ross

Author:Robert Ross
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 2005-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

“I love you.” Philip nuzzled on her neck.

“I love you,” Karen replied automatically.

He sat up, yawning and stretching like a cat. “Sorry to take you away from your work, but it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

“Oh yes,” Karen said, without thinking about it.

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” he said, lying back down. “Why don’t you bring your manuscript down and leave it on my desk? I’ll look it over when I wake up.”

Such noblesse oblige, she thought, standing and pulling her panties back on.

“Why don’t you nap with me?” Philip asked, patting the place on the bed she’d just vacated.

“I’ve got some errands to run.” Karen was aware of how cold her voice sounded as she pulled her T-shirt back over her head. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

He tried to catch her eye, but she avoided it.

She hurried back upstairs, withdrawing the last printout of the Vicky manuscript from the bottom drawer of her desk, where she’d relegated it. She hadn’t looked at it in weeks. She read the first paragraph again.

It’s not that bad. I’m much too hard on myself. I should just forget about all this Hatch stuff and focus on Vicky. It’s so close to being done—a good push and I could probably finish the whole thing in a couple of weeks. And then Philip will show it to Bill.

She walked back down the stairs and glanced into the bedroom. Her husband was already asleep, snoring lightly. She placed the manuscript on his desk chair, pulling on her tennis shoes and grabbing a windbreaker from the closet. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

I do love you, she thought. I really do.

So why does this other voice keep popping into my head?

A cold wind was blowing off the bay as she stepped outside. Karen shivered, zipping the jacket up. This is just the beginning, she thought as she hurried down Commercial Street. By the time winter hits, I’m not going to want to leave the house.

Late September in New Orleans was always warm and sunny. A burst of homesickness swept over her. She didn’t miss waiting tables, that was for sure, but there were other things she did miss. Like hopping on the streetcar and riding up St. Charles, getting off at Washington, and walking down to the Garden District Bookshop. The bookstores in Provincetown were nice—and the people who worked there very friendly. But she suspected they were nice because she was Mrs. Philip Kaye. In New Orleans, people were nice to her because she was Karen. Just Karen.

I’m still her, she thought as she headed toward the library. Still Karen.

Except—

A shiver passed through her.

Except not always.

What an odd thought to have. But thoughts of poor Sarah Jane never seemed to leave her. And here she was, heading back to the library to find out still more.

Olive Zelinski, the research librarian, waved as Karen walked through the front doors. Olive was in her early fifties, with reddish hair shot through with gray that she wore piled on top of her head.

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