The Secrets She Carried by Davis Barbara

Author:Davis, Barbara [Davis, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101614747
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Jay

Jay peered at the bedside clock and swore softly; twenty after three and he was still awake, wrestling with the memory of Leslie’s mouth against his, the undeniable passion that had erupted as he had pulled her tight against him. Was he crazy to think this could work? Crazy to risk a working relationship that was only just beginning to mesh for a chance at something he wasn’t sure he was even ready for? The look on her face after the initial kiss—confusion and abject terror—seemed to suggest he was. And yet, she had kissed him back, and not just once.

He still wasn’t sure which of them had had the presence of mind to cool things down before they passed the point of no return. He wanted to believe it was him, that in the end his chivalrous instincts had kicked in, but as he lay in the dark, still feeling the warmth of her mouth against his, he had serious doubts.

She had kissed him softly as she left, her face unreadable as she thanked him for dinner and slipped out the back door. Now, as he flipped his pillow over in search of a cool patch of pillowcase, he wondered if she was lying awake too, replaying the evening and feeling regret.

Beside him, Belle fidgeted, nudging a chilly nose into the crook of his arm in case he’d forgotten she was there and available for petting. Jay gave her an obligatory pat as he kicked off the covers and reached for the sweatshirt and jeans draped over the footboard.

In the kitchen, he stared into the fridge, debating whether a sandwich might provide a plausible distraction, but soon decided it would not. Being in the kitchen, the scene of the crime, as it were, only served to remind him of Leslie. Only now, it wasn’t the kissing he was thinking of. He was thinking about the article she had handed him. A shed fire, it said. No injuries. But what if it wasn’t true? What if someone had been hurt, and instead of being reported to the authorities, the truth had been covered up?

What if someone had died?

Jay closed his eyes, suddenly back in Maggie’s room, her voice gauzy with pain and with something else he’d never let himself put a name to—guilt. Snatches of conversation were floating back, things he’d the spent the last year pretending he hadn’t heard. He had heard them, though—talk of an accident, of a bolted door with no escape. Even then the hair on the back of his neck had prickled. Now there was proof of a fire, resurrecting the suspicions that had been niggling at him for months. What if the accident that killed Adele Laveau hadn’t been an accident at all?

Please, God, let him be wrong.

In the living room, he moved to the desk, easing open the middle drawer to stare at the neat white stack of pages. After six years of not writing a word, of shuddering at the very

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