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Deathwatch: Inspirational WWII Suspense Page 21


  “Ms. St. Martin, if my husband wants a divorce, all he has to do is ask.” She dropped the receiver silently on the base and swiveled her chair to look out the office window. A well of emotions rose inside her chest, anger, hurt pride, sadness, and finally, resolution. Wedding vows were forever, a holy commitment, or so her mother had taught her. One man for a lifetime. And she’d believed that. But one person couldn’t make a marriage.

  Bright sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling office windows, incongruent with the darkness that seemed to envelope her. The immaculate green lawn outside glowed in the mid-morning rays, the day too beautiful for mourning.

  She rested her head in her hands for a moment, too numb to move, then reached for the telephone again and called her secretary. “Jane, I’m leaving for the day. Why don’t you go ahead and get an early start on the Fourth.”

  Jane chuckled. “That sounds like a winner. I have family coming into town and they love to eat.”

  Early July in Twin Falls was never temperate, hot and with humidity so high it seemed to hang in the air like a stationary mist. Driving home, she tried to stuff thoughts of her husband into the deepest recesses of her mind, but it didn’t work. Josh Bradford had been the love of her life since their first meeting. He’d literally been the boy next door. She was six and he was fifteen. That fateful meeting rolled through her mind in neon flashes of color.

  ***

  Her parents decided to purchase the house on Lucky Lane after the heartbreaking loss of Sara’s best friend. Six-year-old Penny Pryor disappeared ten months earlier, leaving behind a devastated family and Sara, who was too young to understand the concept of “missing without a trace.”

  Penny’s house across the street from their own had been a constant reminder of the tragedy. Almost daily Sara would start to see if Penny could play, then remember she wasn’t there. The Taylor’s had moved hoping a new environment would help their daughter deal with the biggest crisis of her young life.

  Moving day had been a cold, but sunny March morning. Missing the familiarity of her old surroundings and friends, Sara finished off the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and set her milk glass in the sink. She wandered through the rooms of her new home, cluttered with cardboard boxes and a constant stream of movers.

  How she’d wished Penny were there with her bright copper curls and sparkling blue eyes to explore every inch of the house and grounds. She gulped a deep breath and pushed the sad thoughts away. Perhaps the pool party her mother had promised for her seventh birthday would ease her sadness. She could invite friends from the old neighborhood and maybe some new ones from here.

  Her pink tennis shoe clad feet moved silently across the Spanish tile floor and Sara finally settled on a bay window seat in the living room. She drew flowers and stick figures with her finger in the mist that formed on the glass pane and wished her dad would come home. He always made everything better.

  “I know you’re bored, Honey,” her mother said from the doorway, jarring her back into the moment. “Why don’t you unpack the books in your room and put them in the bookcase? That would be a big help.”

  After the books were neatly stored away, she wandered out to the patio. Bundled up in a thick sweater, the sun felt good on her skin. She drifted over to the empty pool and sat on the deck, dangling her feet over the side. The family Collie, Jake, ambled over and lay down beside her resting his head in her lap. She stroked his long fur, his soulful brown eyes gazed into her. Jake always sensed her mood and tried in his own way to make things better.

  “Better be careful, Peanut. If you fall, you’ll get a nasty bump on your head.”

  Sara looked up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. An athletic blond-haired boy, wearing an engaging grin and his school letter jacket stood beside her with a pie balanced in one hand.

  She lifted her chin and with all the dignity a six-year-old could muster, she said, “My name isn’t Peanut, it’s Sara Louise Taylor.”

  “Well, Sara Louise Taylor, come help me find your mother. My mom asked me to bring over this rhubarb pie as a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift.” He leaned over and whispered. “Just between us, don’t eat the pie. My mom is a terrible cook.”

  She giggled and moved into step beside him to find her mother.

  He’d won her heart in the first ten seconds.

  As she grew up next door through Josh’s high school and college years, she’d watched a stream of beautiful girls parade through the Bradford home. That should have been her first clue. But love, as they say, was truly blind.

  Friday, July 3

  Tarrant County Court House

  Dallas, Texas

  Josh Bradford left the courtroom minus his usual feeling of elation after winning a large settlement for his client. While he’d waited for the jury to return with the verdict, he’d stepped into the hallway to check his messages. A text from McKenzie flashed on the iPhone screen and an audible groan escaped his lips.

  Called ur wife told her u wanted a divorce. She said all u had to do was ask? What’s going on? U said u asked.

  He stuffed down an almost irresistible urge to slam the phone against the wall, but that would just destroy his phone, solving nothing. McKenzie was a stick of dynamite with a short fuse and she took no prisoners. He should have realized that before getting involved. She was delusional. He’d never said a word about marrying her or divorce. Straightening his shoulders, he ran his fingers through his hair, and shook his head.

  Sara was caught in the middle. Again. She would have left him long ago except for her beliefs in the sanctity of marriage. This just might push her over the edge. A stop by McKenzie’s apartment on his way home would put her straight.

  He was shaken by the thought he might lose Sara. She was the only meaningful thing in his life.

  ***

  The face of the sprite-like child he’d first met eased into his mind. A six-years-old with intelligent hazel eyes and a face no painter could do justice.

  Years passed and he hadn’t failed to notice Sara Taylor had grown into a long-legged beauty, but he knew instinctively she would never become one of his groupies. He’d kept his distance until that Memorial Day weekend just after her junior year in college.

  Working seventy-hour weeks as a senior associate in a large Dallas law firm, he’d staggered into his apartment and fallen across the bed, too tired to remove his shoes. Tie loosened, he lifted it over his head just as the phone rang. “Yes,” he growled into the receiver.

  “Josh, this is your mother. You know, the woman who gave birth to you but never sees your handsome face.”

  “Hi, Mom.” He pushed his hair off his brow and propped up on one elbow. “I’ve been meaning to call, but I’m working insane hours. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. The reason I called is Mrs. Taylor next door invited us over for a barbeque tomorrow. You’re included in the invitation. Your father and I would love to see you. The fun starts at 11:00 a.m. and goes to 10:00 p.m.”

  “I don’t know, Mom . . .”

  “Sara is home from college. She asked about you.”

  Suddenly, he wasn’t so tired. “Okay, I’ll be there. I may be a little late. I have a few things to take care of at the office.”

  Next morning, he finished up quickly at the firm, then hurried home to shower and change. There was a second reason he had avoided Sara Taylor. Her parents were religious and somehow he knew they wouldn’t approve of him as a suitor for their only child. And truthfully, he couldn’t blame them. He wouldn’t want someone like him for his daughter.

  He dressed carefully in freshly pressed chinos and a blue polo, perfect for the outdoor party. With an energetic gait he hurried to his Porsche and roared onto the freeway. As he maneuvered through the heavy holiday traffic, he found himself humming along with “Lara’s Theme” from Doctor Zhivago on the classics music station and headed towards Twin Falls.

  The long driveway leading to the Taylor’s front door was lined with cars when he arri
ved, so he pulled into his parent’s driveway, and walked over to the Taylor’s front door.

  A huge two story white stucco hacienda with a red terra-cotta roof and clinging bougainvilleas sparkled against the pristine green lawn. A black-railed balcony ran across the front of both floors, shaded by mature oak trees.

  Before he could ring the bell, the front door opened and Belle Taylor greeted him with a warm hug. Sara’s mother was a petite redhead with cornflower blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled, as she did now “Josh, I saw you coming up the drive. I’m so glad you could make it. Come on in. Your parents are on the patio. I just came in to get more ice.”

  “Let me help,” he said, and hefted two large bags of crushed ice from the freezer. He passed through the living room that sparkled with vibrant reds and browns in the Spanish tiles and hand tied rugs.

  Belle directed him to a large tub in the patio’s shaded area where he dumped the ice. Good deed accomplished, he glanced around the crowd looking for familiar faces.

  He spotted Sara, her back to him talking to his mother. Her dark hair hung halfway down her back, its golden highlights sparkling in the sunlight. The long white Mexican dress she wore whispered around her sandaled feet

  He caught his mother’s gaze and she waved. Sara turned towards him. A dazzling smile spread across her face and she glided across the stone floor to him, both hands outstretched.

  She took his breath away.

  He knew in that moment he would make Sara Taylor his wife.

  ***

  After congratulating his client on the win, he strode through the court room’s double doors and toward the elevator. Immediate damage control was in order. He’d have to face Sara when he arrived home. But first he had to see McKenzie to end the affair. She’d committed the unpardonable sin. She’d involved Sara.

  On the drive to Twin Falls, dread deepened with each mile. He wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation with Sara. The only way to save his marriage was for him to change, that or lose his wife. He didn’t intend to let Sara go. After six years of marriage, she was still the most desirable woman he’d ever known. Even he didn’t understand why he sought the company of other women.

  CHAPTER 2

  Friday, July 3

  The Bradford Residence

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Josh swung the Porsche under the portico and loosened his tie. Hands gripped on the steering wheel, he sat motionless gathering his courage. He’d created this mess. It was up to him to fix it. He just didn’t know how. Too many broken promises ago, he’d swore he would straighten up his act. And he had for a month or so, then he fell back into his old habits. Women were bold and available. There was truth in what his father once told him. “Son, you can resist anything but temptation.”

  Pushing his way into the front entrance, he heard the audio book before he passed the library. Maddie Jamison, Sara’s legally blind aunt caught his eye as he moved past the library and towards the stairway. The troubled look on her face hinted at what awaited him.

  He and Maddie had always been friends. He liked her and it had been his suggestion that she move in with them when her vision began to fail. They had plenty of room and Pete and Beatrice would be there to help take care of her, though she needed little help in that regard.

  Feet weighted by the mountain of sorrow he’d caused his wife he climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  The bedroom they still shared was dark when he entered, the drapes drawn tight allowing no light into the room. He could barely make out Sara’s slim form on top of the comforter, her face turned away from him.

  She startled when the door closed with a soft click. Scrambling to her feet, she made a dash for the bathroom. He caught her arm before she made it.

  She tried to pull away. “Let me go, Josh.” She gulped back a sob. “I . . . can’t do . . . this anymore.”

  He gathered her into his arms and she struggled to get away for a moment before a flood of tears overwhelmed her and she crumpled onto his chest. A shudder ran through her body.

  “I’m sorry, love . . . I’m so very sorry,” he said and made soft shushing sounds against her ear, holding her closed, trying to absorb some of the pain he’d caused. He didn’t know how long they stood there—him attempting to comfort her. Finally, the tears were spent. She pushed away from him and wiped her swollen eyes, then rushed out the door.

  He called after her, “Sara, we need to talk.”

  She ignored him.

  Seconds later, the front door slammed and a car engine started. He stood at the window and watched as the sports car slipped out of sight and the sound faded into the darkness.

  Friday, July 3

  Twin Falls Country Club

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Sara pulled into the parking lot and punched Shannon Connelly’s number into her iPhone. Her friend answered on the second ring. “It’s me, Sara. I need to talk. Do you have time?”

  “Of course. Go back to my office, it’s open. I’ll meet you there.”

  Shannon was her oldest friend since grade school and managed the country club. Happily married to Colin Connelly, she was well versed in Sara’s marital woes. She’d offered to go halves on a hit man, then laughed. But Sara wondered. The woman had a dark sense of humor.

  Even though it was almost ten o’clock in the evening, Sara slipped on her sunglasses to hide her red, swollen eyes. The club had more than its share of gossips. She didn’t want to feed the grapevine.

  Shannon’s office was bright and warm, like her personality. The surface of the large blond desk was cleared and an arrangement of daisies sat on the credenza. Two blue wingback chairs sat in front of the desk and sunny yellow throw pillows rested on a blue and white striped sofa.

  Sara shifted the sunglasses to the top of her head and sat on the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest.

  Shannon hurried into the room, took one look at Sara, and pulled her into a hug. “Let me guess. Josh is up to his old tricks.”

  Tears welled in Sara’s eyes and she nodded.

  Shannon stepped to her desk, called the kitchen and asked to have a tea tray brought to her office. She sat beside Sara and took her hand. “Want to talk about it?”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Yes, I guess that’s why I’m here. I need a shoulder to cry on and some sound advice.” She told Shannon about the phone call from McKenzie St. Martin, then shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want a divorce, but that seems to be my only option. Unbelievably, I love him, at least I think I do. How is it possible to love and hate someone at the same time?”

  “It happens all the time. You’re the only one who can make the decision to end your marriage, but I say divorce the snake. He isn’t good enough for you. Never was.”

  The tea arrived and they sipped it in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. At last Sara pushed out a deep breath. “I’ll contact an attorney tomorrow. Get the ball rolling.”

  Shannon nodded. “Good. I’m here if you need me, anytime, night or day. You can move in with Colin and me for the duration if you want.”

  Sara shook her head. “I couldn’t leave Maddie there alone. I’ll just relocate to another bedroom.”

  Shannon stood, put her arm around Sara’s waist and walked her to the door.

  After fishing out her car keys, Sara gave her friend a hug. “Thanks for the tea and sympathy. I’ll call you.”

  On the drive home she lowered the window and took deep breaths of the cold, pine scented air. She wanted to hate Josh, even more than she hated herself for letting him inflict such pain.

  Bitter tears rolled down her cheeks. How could he claim to love her while consorting with other women? Why did he stay married to her? She had no fortune to keep him interested. He was the more affluent of the two of them. Did he like having a wife that give him an excuse to keep his affairs casual?

  Clenching the wheel in her hands something her mother once told her, after she’d been bullied by girls at school, flash
ed into her memory. Bitterness most harms the one who carries it. Let it go. Trust God’s love, even when you don’t understand His plan. Honor His love by forgiving those who hurt you.

  She pulled in under the portico and sat for a moment, resting her brow on the steering wheel. After five deep breaths, she whispered, “Lord help me to remember my mother’s words, to seek Your holy will in all things. Help me to understand or at least to accept it.”

  Josh paced in the library as she passed the doorway. He cast a pleading glance her way. She dared not respond—still too susceptible to his devastating charm. Determined, she continued upstairs, took two melatonin, and went to bed in one of the guest rooms.

  Saturday, July 4

  Claremont Apartments

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Detective Miles Davis met his partner, Chris Hunter, under the entrance awning of the posh complex, and they entered the building together. A security guard/doorman let them in. Davis flashed his shield. “What’s the apartment number?”

  “520,” the guard answered. “You’ll need an elevator key to get past the ground floor” He handed Davis a plastic card.

  “Anyway to disable that?” Davis asked. “There’s going to be a lot of traffic here in a few minutes. I don’t want my people standing around waiting for an elevator.”

  “Yeah,” the man said. “We have a fire emergency code that will remove the safety feature. Give me a minute and I’ll take care of it.”

  “While you’re in there, pull the security tapes for the past twenty-four hours.” Hunter said. “Any cameras in the hallways?”

  The guard shook his head. “No, the tenants wouldn’t stand for that. They like their privacy.”

  Davis and Hunter emerged on the fifth floor onto a wide hallway tiled with white marble and a Persian carpet runner. Twenty feet down the hallway a small crowd gathered outside number 520. A blue uniform tried to send them on their way. He noticed the detectives and waved them inside the apartment. “Hey, guys. Glad to see you. The log-in book is on the island counter on your right, along with a supply of gloves and booties.”