Carrie Weaver - The Secret Wife

“Then who did you do it for?” She doubted he’d considered David. He didn’t seem eager to take on the role of uncle.

“It’s…complicated. But the last thing any of us need right now is you jailed and the little guy in foster care.”

“I won’t let them take David.”

J.D. glanced in her direction. “I hope you’re not thinking about doing something stupid. Like running.”

That was exactly what she’d been thinking. Grabbing up David and driving off somewhere, anywhere but here.

“Because that will only make things worse. We were damn lucky they released you today. And that was partly because I vouched for you.”

Maggie swallowed her surprise. The car seemed to close in on her. Another debt she owed to J.D., another thread tying her to McGuireville. “I’ll try not to get you in trouble.”

Avoiding his gaze, she looked out the side window.

But against the backdrop of green, green grass and thick stands of trees, she saw Eric’s lifeless body. He was gone, truly and totally, from her life forever. A part of her ached for her first love and all the might-have-beens. All the shared memories that it would be her sole responsibility to pass on to their son.

It was a hard idea for her to accept.

And what effect would David’s death have on their son? One of her psychology professors once said that a bad father was better than no father at all. Somehow, she’d hoped that Eric might mature and take an interest in David. Maybe even act like a real father. Now, there was no chance of that ever happening.

“You’ll notice we’re only a couple miles out of town, but it feels like we’re in the country. There’s more open space.”

Maggie wondered if J.D.’s change of subject was intentional. As if they could pretend she were just another guest in town for the reunion.

Whatever his reasoning, Maggie was relieved to pretend for a few moments that everything was right with the world. She focused on the expanse of green beyond the glass—every conceivable shade from sage to hunter. Once in a while, there would be a cluster of two or three brick ranch houses. Even more rare were elegant-looking two-storied homes that had great white columns creating a front porch. The yards were huge by Phoenix standards and unbelievably green. Some sported large vegetable gardens.

Despite his complaints about the simple life here, Maggie half suspected Eric had made McGuireville his safe haven between adventures. There was something timeless and comforting about the place—or at least she supposed it might seem that way under different circumstances.

“We’re almost there.” J.D.’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s a nice neighborhood.”

“Yes, it is.”

J.D. steered into a long, circular drive made up of cinder rock. “Here we are.” His voice was light, but she could feel his gaze on her face, as if assessing her reaction.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. J.D.’s eyes sparked with pride. “I bought it as a repo. The owners defaulted on the mortgage and it stood vacant for a couple years. It’s one of the few colonial reproductions in the area.”

“The two-story houses with big pillars? Those are colonial reproductions?”

“Yep. I’ll grab your bags while you get David.”

Maggie got out of the car and stretched her cramped muscles. She felt as if she had walked into a dream. The house, J.D., Eric’s murder, it was all surreal.

David rubbed his eyes and yawned when she opened the car door.

“Come on, sweetie. We’re going to stay at Uncle J.D.’s house for a while.” How long, she had no idea. Maggie tried to pretend this was a normal visit and not the living nightmare she knew it to be. There was no use upsetting David. “And you and I will have a real bed to sleep in. Won’t that be nice?”

The baby waved his approval.

Maggie settled him on her hip, pulling the hem of his shirt down over his tummy. She inhaled deeply. The air carried the scent of honeysuckle. It seemed like years since she’d been in Arizona, yet it was only a matter of days. The slow, sleepy pace of the South wasn’t all that different from the laid-back Southwest.

The trunk slammed and J.D. came around the side of the car with her suitcase. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The cool shade was a welcome relief as she climbed the steps to the porch. The atmosphere of old-fashioned homeyness surprised her. Several rustic rockers were grouped together, a perfect spot to watch the sunset and chat.

It was somehow easy for her to visualize J.D. relaxing and enjoying the view, but she doubted Eric had ever joined him. Eric couldn’t sit still long enough.

Maggie swallowed hard. Eric had been very, very still the last time she’d seen him. She just couldn’t reconcile the body she’d seen with the larger-than-life father of her child.

J.D. opened the screen door and then the simple carved oak door, holding it wide for her to pass.

Stepping over the threshold, Maggie stumbled. Fatigue made her clumsy.

J.D. grasped her arm to steady her. “You okay?”

Maggie managed to right herself by sheer force of will. “I’m fine. Just tired.” Glancing at his face, she tried to assess his mood. His expression was remote, polite, not that of a man grieving for his murdered brother. Did he not feel, or did he just not show it? “How are you, um, holding up?” she asked.

Surprise sparked briefly in his solemn eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. But, um, thanks for asking.” For a split second his shoulders sagged. Then he straightened, tall, strong, in control. He gestured toward the living room. “Make yourself at home. I’m hoping Belmont can get this mess straightened out quickly. Confirm your alibi with the hotel staff.”

“I hope so.”

Though Maggie was exhausted, David seemed recharged by his nap in the car. He squealed his approval of the place, wiggling to get down.

Maggie eyed the floor, her protective instincts overriding her exhaustion. Hardwood gleamed, a burgundy Oriental area rug gave a splash of color. But not nearly enough padding should David bump his head. She held him close, which only infuriated him. He screeched and squirmed.

“Go ahead and put him down.”

Maggie hesitated. Sighing, she placed her son on the rug. “He’s probably too wound up to nap now.”

J.D. nodded. “Looks like he’s raring to go. How about if I put your bags in the guest room and then we head on over to my grandmother’s house? She’s very eager to meet you.”

“I don’t think so. Maybe after I’ve had some sleep—”

“I imagine you’re exhausted, but she was very insistent about seeing you. Immediately, if not sooner.” He frowned. “Patience isn’t one of her virtues.”

“You love her very much.”

“Yes, I do. That’s why I don’t think this meeting is a good idea, but she wouldn’t listen to reason. Eric was her favorite. I hope you won’t upset her.”

“I’m not a monster, J.D. I wouldn’t even think of broaching the subject of David right now.” Maggie’s heart ached at what the woman must be going through. “You said favorite? Eric always swore he was the black sheep.”

“Beloved black sheep, maybe. My grandmother adores him. Always did, no matter how much trouble he made.”

“I didn’t intend to cause trouble for you or your grandmother. If there had been another way…”

“Why now? Why not right after your baby was born?”

Maggie sighed. “I was in love and I was foolish. Eric was with me the first month or so. He left, but I kept expecting him to come back. It took me a while to realize he wasn’t going to.”

“If you thought you were married, why didn’t you divorce him?”