Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

"She will, but it's a fight. She won't use a teenager, not even one from the neighborhood. They're too young, she says. She's found two women she likes very much, but they're always booked. Calling them at the last minute is impossible, and Kate has gotten so she won't even try. I just don't understand it." He expelled a weary-sounding breath. "I don't understand her."

"Not understand her?" Julianna repeated, incredulous. "Surely, that's not true, Richard. She's your wife. You've been together for years."

"She's changed," he said after a moment. "We used to go out. We entertained. Now, she only has time for-"

He bit back the words, flushing at the way he sounded. Petulant and self-absorbed. "Becoming a parent is an adjustment," he said. "It takes time for everything to fall into place."

"Of course it's a big adjustment," she said softly. "But I wonder…how old's Emma?"

"Four months."

She pursed her lips. "Oh."

"What is it?"

She lifted a shoulder. "I've never been a parent, of course. But I have heard that some women…" She shook her head. "Never mind. It's really none of my business."

"Nonsense." He leaned toward her. "I've made it your business by bringing it up. Tell me what you've heard."

"That some new mothers become terribly depressed. It gets to the point that their spouses hardly recognize them. Could that be what's going on with her? I mean, do you think she's happy?"

"You had dinner with us." He frowned. "What do you think?"

She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. "She seemed…devoted to Emma."

But not to me. Julianna didn't need to tell him that. He knew it already.

"Be patient," she murmured. "I'm sure this will pass."

But what if it didn't? he wondered as the waiter delivered their food. What if he and Kate kept drifting farther apart until they neither understood each other nor had anything in common?

He and Julianna ate in silence for several moments. She broke it first. "Richard?"

He glanced up, and Julianna reached across the table and covered his hand with her own. He lowered his gaze to their joined hands, surprised by her gesture and by the jolt of awareness that shot through him.

He told himself to draw his hand away. He didn't move a muscle.

"There's something I've wanted to tell you, but I…I-" Her voice faltered, but she cleared her throat, seeming to marshal her courage. "I've been going back and forth, trying to decide if I should tell you, but now, with Kate behaving so strangely…"

"This is about Kate?"

"Yes." She looked away, then back. "And…and Luke Dallas."

Richard stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

"That night, at your house…she didn't tell you the whole truth about that autographed book. I saw her, Richard."

He shook his head. "What do you mean? You saw her where?"

"At Luke Dallas's book signing. She had Emma with her. The line was really long, and I remember looking at her with the baby and feeling sorry for her. She looked so tired."

Richard struggled to hide his fury. His embarrassment. The betrayal that rushed over him in a hot, bitter wave.

She sat back in her chair, her expression distressed. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry, I just thought you'd want to…"

That he would want to know. That his wife was chasing all over the countryside after an old boyfriend when she didn't have time to go out to dinner with her own husband. That she had lied to him.

"I'm sorry," Julianna said again, eyes filling with tears. "I can tell that you're upset, and I don't blame you." She leaned forward, her tone pleading. "Please, forget I said anything. I probably was mistaken and I'd…I'd hate if you and Kate argued over this."

"Nonsense," he said stiffly, forcing a smile. "I'm glad you did bring it up. It's no big deal. The three of us were good friends back at Tulane, and I'm sure she simply forgot to tell me."

"I'm sure that's it."

They both knew that was a lie. He checked his watch, then signaled the waiter to bring the bill. Their server brought the check; Richard paid with cash. "We'd better get back. It's going to be a busy afternoon."

"That it is."

Julianna eased her chair back from the table, preparing to stand. He stopped her.

"Julianna?" She looked at him. "Thanks for listening. I know it's not exactly in your job description."

Her lips curved into a sweetly sad smile. "I'm always here for you, Richard. No matter what you need. Don't forget that."

Richard was late. Kate checked her watch for about the hundredth time in the past hour. Ten o'clock, she saw. Where was he? When she'd spoken with him right before lunch, he had said he'd be home early.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, worried. It wasn't like him not to call. If he'd had a last-minute dinner appointment or meeting, he would have let her know.

Kate began to pace, nearly hysterical with worry. She had called everyone she could think of-his partners, golf buddies, even his parents-had checked the health club and country club bar. She had tried the police and local emergency rooms. Nobody had seen him.

She drew in a shuddering breath, imagining him at the side of some road, bleeding or unconscious, his car a heap of twisted metal and broken glass.

Ten became ten-fifteen. Became eleven. Still no Richard.

When she finally heard his key in the lock, she flew to the door and yanked it open. "Richard, thank God! I've been worried sick. Where have you been?"

"Well, if it isn't my devoted and loving wife."

He lurched past her, and she brought a hand to her nose as the smell of liquor and cigarettes hit her in a nauseating wave. "You've been drinking."

"Give the little lady a gold star."

He tossed his briefcase toward the couch and missed. It hit the floor with a loud thump. Kate glanced nervously toward the nursery. "Careful, you'll wake the baby."

"The baby, " he mimicked, his tone snide. "It's always about the baby, isn't it?"

He hadn't just been drinking, she realized, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. He'd been bingeing. And brooding. The way he sometimes had in college, the way that had always brought out the person she didn't like.

"Where have you been, Richard?"

"Out." He swung to face her. "The more appropriate question is, where have you been?"

"Here. Waiting for you. Worried out of my mind."

"I need a drink."

He started past her; she stopped him with a hand to his arm. "I think you've had enough."

"You don't tell me what to do." He shook off her hand roughly. "Nobody does."

Kate took a step back, shocked. This was a Richard she had only seen a couple of times, years ago. Still, she knew from experience that being confrontational when Richard was in this mode was counterproductive. When he was like this he had a hair-trigger temper, and when it snapped, it was terrifying.

She took a deep, calming breath. "Talk to me, hon," she coaxed. "Tell me what's happened."

"Why don't you tell me?" He took a step toward her. "Let's talk about the book, Kate. Tell me about Dead Drop. "

"Luke's book?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Sure," he sneered. "How'd you get that autograph?"

Her heart began to rap against the wall of her chest. The last thing she wanted to bring up was her visit with Luke, not while Richard was already half crazy. "I told you how I-"

"That's bullshit!" he shouted. "You went to New Orleans to see him. Behind my back." He took another step closer. "What did you do? Dig that fucking invitation out of the trash?"

She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes evenly. "As a matter of fact, I wanted to see him. I wanted to try to repair our friendship."

He released a short bark of laughter. "Friendship my ass."