Jo Leigh - Ms. Taken

David stood. Charles didn’t.

Jane Dobson waltzed in and dropped several beige bags as she kicked the door shut behind her. The bandage was gone, revealing a considerable goose egg. She’d changed into decent, expensive looking clothes, and she had two shoes.

“Hello, Charley,” she said. “Hi, David.”

David nodded. “Hi.”

“What? No kiss?”

David shot Charles a quick glance, then smiled at Jane. He took her outstretched hands, then kissed her on the cheek. “You look wonderful.”

“Thanks. So do you. Did he tell you?”

“What?”

“That we’re getting married.”

“He mentioned it, yes.”

“Thrilling, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say.”

She let go of David’s hands and headed toward Charles. She was going to kiss him again, he just knew it. But this time, she’d get no reaction from him. None at all. The girl needed help. She was ill. Or psychotic.

She bent over him.

She smelled like roses.

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