The Good Doctor. Karen Smith Rose
When will Jessica and Clyde be back from their honeymoon?”
“Next week some time. The woman my brother Clyde married was a friend of mine. I can’t wait until she gets back so we can really visit.”
“After the experience she had, she and Clyde deserve a long honeymoon.” Lily went on to explain to Lanie how Jessica had been stalked and how Clyde had apprehended the man.
As Rosita served brunch, the conversation flowed easily. Lanie filled them in on details of the gala her father would be attending and the security measures that would be taken.
They’d finished the fruit tart and were enjoying more coffee when Rosita appeared in the courtyard again and stood beside Ryan. “Chuck called from the barn. He said that horse you’re going to gentle just rolled in.”
Ryan looked torn as if he wanted to go down to the barn, yet knew he should stay because of Lanie.
Obviously sensing his predicament, she smiled. “Mr. Fortune, if you need to leave, that’s fine. I have to be going myself. I have an appointment back in Austin this afternoon.”
As she rose, so did Ryan. “Are you sure you have to leave so soon? My foreman can unload the horse.”
“Really, I must be going,” Lanie said. “It was nice to meet you, Violet.”
After goodbyes all around, Ryan said, “I’ll walk you out.” Then he gave Lily a quick kiss and escorted the governor’s daughter through the great room. After Rosita cleared the table except for the coffee, she took the tray of dishes to the kitchen.
Lily gave Violet a weak smile that told Violet brunch had been an effort. “That young woman doesn’t seem to have a path to her life,” Lily commented.
“Maybe some women don’t need one.”
“I found my path when I married Ryan.” That troubled look came over Lily’s face again. “But I wouldn’t change one curve or twist in the path. Sometimes I wonder if Ryan would, though.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m worried about him. He had a call from the police again this morning. They want him to come in for more questions. I wish they’d understand he didn’t even know Christopher Jamison. Why can’t they see he’d never hurt anyone?”
That was the question of a loyal wife, but Violet knew the authorities had their own agenda. The link between the Fortunes and Jamisons hadn’t been made public, but there was one. She just hoped that the authorities would soon find the murderer of Christopher Jamison and that Ryan would be cleared.
“The two of you usually draw together when there’s a crisis,” Violet reminded Lily.
“Up until now. But Ryan’s so unpredictable sometimes. For the past few months he leaves and doesn’t tell me where he’s going. I’m beginning to wonder—”
Her voice caught and Violet could see tears well up in Lily’s eyes. One thing she was sure of—Ryan Fortune adored his wife and would never be unfaithful to her.
“Maybe he doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t know where he’s going to go. Maybe he just needs time alone to decompress. Have you talked to him about it?”
“Yes, but he just gives me flimsy excuses.”
“Maybe they seem flimsy because he’s not hiding anything.”
“I hope that’s true,” Lily said fervently.
Since Ryan was hiding his symptoms from his wife, that was why Lily suspected he wasn’t being truthful. Maybe soon that would change. After the MRI, she hoped Ryan would tell Lily about his headaches and they could get their marriage back on a strong footing again. They might need to for whatever came next.
When Jason Jamison opened the door to his “mansion,” he considered why he’d bought it when he moved to San Antonio. It was befitting the station in life he intended to rise to. The second reason, just as important, was that Melissa had liked it. She might have been a cocktail waitress, but she had damn good taste.
Noticing the security alarm was off, he realized she must be at home. It was early for him to get home, not even six-thirty. He made a point of working late at Fortune TX, Ltd. so he looked like a go-getter, so he caught Ryan Fortune’s attention, so he could put everything into the plan that was coming to fruition.
When he heard the upstairs shower running, he dropped his briefcase in the marble-floored foyer and hurried up the wide sweeping staircase. His footsteps were muffled by the plush carpeting, and he liked the idea of surprising Melissa. He didn’t like surprises but he liked taking others off guard. He especially looked forward to surprising Ryan Fortune.
He was working on a plan to bring down Ryan and get the revenge his grandfather had always wanted. His grandpa Farley was the only one who had understood him and paid attention to him. During his visits to Farley Jamison’s cabin, Jason had been a rapt listener when his grandfather related tales of Iowan politics. Farley’s own children and wife had abandoned him. Although they were connected by blood, Kingston Fortune hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, either. Someone had to carry on his grandfather’s legacy. Farley had always believed it was because of the Fortunes that he was living his life in a beat-up shack, and he’d convinced Jason to believe it, too.
But Jason had to figure the best way to get what he wanted. With a new face, he was unrecognizable to relatives. Creating a different identity and going under the name of Jason Wilkes, he could accomplish anything.
As he walked down the hall, he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. One of his teachers in high school had called him a sociopath. If stabbing a friend and lying to get what he wanted made him that, he didn’t mind the label. His conscience didn’t bother him one whit that he’d killed Christopher. They’d always been like Cain and Abel, the angel and the devil. So much for angels, he thought, as he remembered dumping his brother’s body into Lake Mondo.
After he stepped into the luxuriously furnished bedroom, Jason tossed his tie and suitcoat over a fuchsia chair, hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and threw that to the pile, too. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Melissa. He couldn’t wait to feel her hands on him. She knew how to do things—
Flipping off his Italian loafers, ridding himself of his socks, he unbuckled his belt as he went through the dressing room into the bathroom. There was a sunken tub, but his gaze went straight to the shower where he could see the shadow of Melissa’s body behind the frosted glass door.
Before he could open it, she turned off the water and stepped out.
“Jason!” she yelped.
“That’s me,” he said with a smile that was supposed to convey his intentions.
It must have done just that because she shook her head, her bleached blond hair falling in wet tendrils across her shoulders. She hadn’t dried off and she looked sleek and more than ready for what he had in mind.
However, she nipped his desire before he could act on it. “I can’t. Not now. I’m already running late. I have a meeting at seven-thirty.”
“What meeting?” he demanded to know.
“A group of us is getting together to plan a clothing drive for the teen shelter at Christmas.”
“All this charity work you’re doing is getting tedious, and I’m beginning to wonder why you’re doing it.”
Still dripping wet, Melissa came very close to Jason. “Aren’t we pretending to be an up-and-coming married couple?”
“Yes, but—”
She put a slim finger on his chin and studied him with her brown eyes. “No buts. Just as you’re setting up Ryan to take the fall for mistakes in his company, I’m planting a few seeds of my own.”
“And they are?”
“You’ll see.”