Marital Privilege. Ann Voss Peterson
my past is different than you thought?”
“Because my future is different. Our son’s future is different.”
This morning when she’d awakened, her life had been everything she’d ever wanted. She had a thriving business. She thought she was married to the man of her dreams. And she had a perfect little son on the way. Her biggest problem had been a case of the sniffles. Her biggest concern had been asking Sally to open the bar so she could get a little extra sleep. And now her friend, her marriage—everything she knew—was gone.
Her sinuses burned. Tears stung her eyes. She wanted to scream. To hit him. To hurt him. To make him see what he’d done to her, to their baby. “This is not what I wanted. Not for myself, and certainly not for my son.”
“I know.”
“Do you? I wonder. Did you know that my mother used to stay up all night whenever my father was on patrol? She would sit in the dark with her rosary beads and wait for him. I think she truly believed if she didn’t keep her prayer vigil, he wouldn’t come home to us.”
Alec said nothing.
But what could he say? He knew about her mother’s fears. He’d seen for himself how her anxiety had gotten so severe before her death that she’d had to live in an institution. But even then, Laura had doubted he’d truly understood the causes and ripple effects of her mother’s illness. Now she was certain he hadn’t understood. Not one bit. If he had, he never could have kept his real identity from her. He never could have put her in this position. “I always tried to stay awake with her. When I fell asleep, I felt so guilty. Like I’d let her down.”
“That’s terrible to put so much pressure on a kid.”
“Our son is going to face more pressure than that. If he survives long enough to be born, that is.”
She wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand then buried her clenched fist in her lap. “By the time I reached high school, I decided that my life was going to be different. I would make it different. I set out to choose a man with a safe job to fall in love with. To marry. To have a child with. I didn’t even date men who didn’t fit into that plan. I didn’t look at them twice. When I met you, I thought I’d found the perfect man. A liquor distributor. A salesman. Not a police officer, like my father. And sure as hell not the son of a mobster. If I’d had any idea…”
The creases flanking his mouth and digging into his forehead deepened. “I wanted to be your husband. I wanted it so much.”
“Enough to lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You didn’t tell me who you really were. That’s lying in my book.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
But his acquiescence wasn’t enough to loosen the knot twisting in her stomach or lighten the weight in her chest. It wasn’t even close. “You should have told me the truth, Alec or Nikolai or whatever-the-hell your name is. You should have let me decide if I wanted to live with this ticking bomb.”
“I’m sorry, Laura. I was afraid you wouldn’t want me. Not if you knew who I was.” He pulled his gaze from the highway for a moment and looked at her. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
“Damn you, Alec. You’ve lost me, anyway.”
Alec turned hollow eyes on the road twisting through rolling farm fields, his face pale in the shattered pattern of sunlight shining through the windshield.
She clutched the bottom of her nightgown, trying to cover her legs. If only she could do something. Take control. Stand up, walk around, burn off the desperate feeling storming her nerves. Anything. Instead she was stuck in this damn car next to a man she didn’t know, driving hell-bent for nowhere. And there wasn’t a thing she could do to change it. Or was there? “Turn the car around.”
“What?”
“I want to go back to Beaver Falls. I want you to drop me off at the police station.”
Chapter Four
Alec gripped the steering wheel. His head throbbed just behind his eyes. Dread pooled in his chest, filling his lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not taking you back to Beaver Falls.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t trust the police.”
“Why?”
“My father has been successful because he knows that most people have a price, and he can afford to pay it.”
“You think he’s bribing police officers in Beaver Falls?” She sounded shocked, like this was the most outrageous suggestion she’d ever heard.
He shouldn’t be surprised. “You only think it’s ridiculous because your father was a cop. You come from a totally different world than I do. You automatically trust cops. You see them as the good guys, the white knights.”
“And your background makes you objective?” She shook her head. “Just because your father bribed cops in New York when you were growing up, doesn’t mean all the officers in the entire country are on his payroll.”
“Maybe not. But the trick is finding out which ones are. Before you trust them.”
“Do you have any reason to believe the Beaver Falls police are corrupt? Do you have any proof?”
“I have a feeling.”
“A feeling?”
“Yes. And in light of what’s happened, a feeling is enough. We can’t take chances.”
“I’m not taking chances. I’m just not going to let your paranoia prevent me from getting help.” Or from leaving you. She hadn’t said it, but the sentiment was there, hanging in the air between them like an iron curtain.
“It’s not paranoia.”
“Really? You haven’t given me one reason I shouldn’t rely on the Beaver Falls police.”
“Before I found Sally and the others, I called 911. I reported the gas leak and—”
“The others?”
Alec cringed. He had forgotten Laura didn’t know about the massacre he’d stumbled across. The deaths. The explosion. “I went to the restaurant to look for you. That’s where I found Sally.”
“And others.” The words came out on a whisper, as if she was afraid to know more, but couldn’t keep herself from asking.
“Yes. There were others.”
“Who?”
He’d give anything not to tell her. The news of Sally’s death was enough for Laura to come to terms with. But knowing Laura, she would never let it go. Not until she knew everything. “Your prep cook, Tim.”
She flinched as if he’d physically hit her.
“One of your waitresses.”
“Traci. Traci was supposed to open the dining room for lunch.” Her voice was robotic, as if she was keeping the names at a distance, not really thinking about what it all meant. “No one else. Please, no one else.”
“The guy that works for the produce company.”
“Ed.”
“I didn’t see anyone else.” As if the three he’d just named plus Sally weren’t enough.
She leaned back in her seat, breathing shallowly through her mouth. The only sound inside the van was the thrashing wind and the miles humming by under the tires.
Finally she turned her head toward him. “What does any of this have to do with not trusting the police?”
“I smelled a gas leak when I entered