One More Dance Roxanne Rustand (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📖

the area and might walk in for free legal advice? What did she really know about his life during those late hours? “I still don’t think he’d ever buy one.”

“He didn’t buy this one. At least, not from any reputable dealer, because the serial numbers have been ground off. What about the people he associates with? Do you know what they do for a living? Do any of them look dangerous to you?”

She felt a chill skitter down her spine. “Dangerous?”

“Guys who look like trouble from the minute you lay eyes on them.”

“At the free clinic, maybe, but like I said, Jared has never owned a gun. I swear.”

“Then why did he have this one in his glove compartment? There might be a lot of things you don’t know about your husband, ma’am.” The sheriff headed for the door, pausing there to write something in his notebook. “We’ve sent the gun off to ballistics.”

“Ballistics?” She swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Because, Mrs. Mathers, the preliminary autopsy report shows that the female victim in his car was alive at the time of the accident, but it also appears that she’d been shot not long before. So if you suddenly happen to remember anything important, call me.” His voice held an edge of exaggerated patience as he handed her a business card. “Here’s my private cell phone number. Be sure to let me know.”

WITH CASEY AND SYLVIA gone, Kate took the next hourly visit at Jared’s bedside.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” she murmured, leaning over the bed rail to brush a kiss against his temple. “You’re going to be just fine—I know you are. Once we get past this little problem, you’re going to be on the mend in no time.”

Sylvia was right—he did look better. His face now held a tinge of color, and when Kate gently squeezed his hand, there seemed to be a faint response. Still, his eyes didn’t open and he didn’t respond to her voice.

The hint of suspicion and veiled sarcasm in the sheriff’s voice had played over and over in her mind ever since the man left, and even now she couldn’t quell the tremor in her hands.

“The sheriff has some questions for you and I do, too, but it can all wait.” She searched Jared’s face. “I know you’ll have an explanation for everything, and then we’ll be able to get back to normal.” Please, God, let that be true.

She brushed back the stray lock of dark hair that always wanted to tumble forward over his forehead.

Explanations.

A word that had nearly triggered the end of their marriage when she’d demanded them long ago. A word that could spell even greater tragedy now.

SHE’D BEEN SO SURE back then...so hurt and angry. Her suspicions had been fueled by stray gossip she overheard at the local beauty salon, and the whispers around town had seemed to follow her everywhere.

Someone had seen Jared with a woman in the next town.

Someone else had seen them holding hands.

At Casey’s third-grade carnival, Kate had noticed two women laughing as another pointed out a tall, willowy brunette and said it was easy to see what Jared saw in her.

Kate had confronted him that night, and he’d lashed right back about trust and love, claiming he was equally hurt by her lack of faith and refusing to explain anything. After that, they’d argued more than they’d conversed and Jared even left for a few days,  but he'd returned soon afterwards and eventually they’d both retreated into stubborn, frosty silence. Like a scab over a wound, it covered a raw underbelly of mistrust in their marriage for years.

They’d been excessively polite.

Excessively careful to explain five-minute delays or changes of plan.

Then gradually that faded, as well, and they’d been able to move forward.

Long afterward, the brunette spied them while they were Christmas shopping in Madison and rushed through the crowd to give Jared a quick embrace and a kiss on the cheek.

“Your husband saved my life,” she gushed, turning to Kate. An immense diamond sparkled on her left hand. “I still can’t thank him enough for how discreetly he handled my divorce. My ex was a violent man, but I couldn’t be happier now.”

After she flitted away, Kate had turned to Jared. “You couldn’t have told me that? Wouldn’t it all have been so much easier?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Not even your own wife?”

“Confidentiality.” He’d shrugged, but she’d seen the turbulent emotion in his eyes at what his honor had cost him in his personal life. “It was a very high-profile case.”

And it had been, when Kate thought back, vaguely remembering headlines about a powerful, philandering businessman, his fling with a secretary and his livid socialite wife. Eventually, the tabloids had made a field day of it, but Jared had never said a single word.

Now she looked down at him and prayed that his future hadn’t been compromised by forces too powerful to withstand. “We’ll get through this, sweetheart. I know we will. We have to, because you still owe me that last dance, and I won’t let you go.”

There would be a good explanation for the woman in his car.

For the weapon in the glove box.

Once he was fully conscious, he’d be able to solve all of the mysteries swirling around them. Then Kate could convince him to give up that free clinic and all those late hours, just as Tom had said, and life could go back to normal...safe and calm and happy.

Wouldn’t it?

JARED STEELED HIMSELF against another wave of pain that had been relentlessly pounding through his brain for...how long?

The monotonous clicks and whirs of some sort of equipment went on, and on, and on. He smelled the sharp odors of disinfectant. Some sort of chemical. Where was he?

His stomach rolled, rebelling against the intensifying pain that seemed to radiate from every part of his body. I’ve got to get out of here before it’s too late. They’ll come after us again. Just a few miles more...

He tried to move and he couldn’t.

Tried