Married Or Not?. Brenda Jackson

Married Or Not? - Brenda Jackson


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made her motor run nonstop whenever he was around. Right now, she couldn’t afford to be tempted.

      “Don’t worry about it. I changed my clothes without help earlier this evening.”

      “All right. At least let me put you on the bed before I leave.”

      She rolled to her dresser and found one of her sleep shirts before going to the bed. She held up her arms.

      He picked her up as though she were weightless and sat her on the side of the bed.

      “I’ll see you in the morning,” Greg said.

      She nodded. He continued to stand there. She closed her eyes and looked down at her hands. She was on the verge of tears and she didn’t want him to know. She was so vulnerable right now in so many ways. It would be so easy to forget what she’d gone through in their marriage and accept the here and now.

      She’d tried to make a clean break but fate was against her. She heard Greg leave the room and quietly close the door behind him.

      Greg poured himself another glass of wine and wandered out to the back terrace.

      He’d always loved Millie. She had been agile, both mentally and physically, all of her life until her fall. He’d spent as much of his childhood as possible in this home. His brother had refused to come for more than a couple of days at a time, saying there was nothing to do here. Kyle had found it boring and had preferred to spend his summers in Connecticut with his friends.

      Millie was the reason he’d moved to Austin directly after graduating from the Police Academy. He had visited her as often as he could. She was the family he’d never had, she and Sherri.

      There was no way he could get Millie back but he was going to do everything in his power to have a second chance with Sherri. He loved her too much not to try, and tonight he’d realized that she wasn’t indifferent to him.

      That offered him a sliver of hope.

      Six

       Five years earlier

      Greg Hogan saw the flashing lights from police cars and an ambulance before he turned into the restaurant’s parking lot. The yellow police tape already encircled the area behind the place and forensics was there gathering evidence.

      A man had been murdered and it was Greg’s job to find his killer.

      He pulled up alongside one of the police cars and walked over to the area.

      “What have you got on the guy?” he asked one of the men, pulling a notebook out of his pocket.

      “White male, forty-two years old, Kenneth Allred, according to one of his driver’s licenses.”

      “What does the other one say?”

      “He had four—Kenneth Allred, Fred Conway, Ken Crosley and Jerry Allen.”

      “Maybe his prints will be on file somewhere.”

      “We have an approximate time of death, based on a witness’s statement.”

      Greg looked around the parking lot. “Has he been questioned yet?”

      “She. She told us a little but she was so shaken that we placed her in a squad car with one of our men. We got the call forty-five minutes ago and were here in ten. One of the officers on patrol answered the call. The woman had gone back inside the restaurant and told the manager, who called it in.”

      “Did she see the murder?”

      “She said she saw two men running to a car from behind the restaurant as she was getting into her car. Their car left and she backed out of her parking space and glanced behind the building. That’s when she saw the victim.” The policeman nodded toward the floodlights at the back of the building. “She was able to see that he was covered in blood. That’s when she ran back inside.”

      “I’ll talk to her…see if she can describe the men. I wonder if they saw her? Whatever else we do, we need to keep her name out of the papers in case they saw her and go looking for her.”

      Greg spent the next half hour studying the crime scene, discussing the findings with the forensic team and studying the body. When he was through, he walked over to the police car where the witness sat in the front seat, staring out the windshield. He nodded to the uniformed officer who immediately got out of the car. Greg slid inside and looked at the witness.

      The first thing he noticed was how small she was. She had thick, dark hair that tumbled around her shoulders.

      “Ms. Masterson?” he said softly.

      As though she were in a daze, she slowly turned to look at him.

      “Yes?”

      He held his hand out to her. “I’m Detective Greg Hogan.” She hesitantly offered her hand to him. He wasn’t surprised to find it cold. “Would you like to go inside and have a cup of coffee?”

      Her husky voice intrigued him. She looked like a teenager and yet sounded like a seductive woman. “All right.”

      He walked around the car and helped her out. She was shaking. Scenes like these were rough on civilians.

      The manager had closed the restaurant. When he saw Greg at the door, he came over and let them inside.

      “Hi. I’m Randy Kramer,” he said, offering his hand to Greg.

      Greg shook his hand and replied, “Detective Greg Hogan, Homicide. Could we have some coffee, please?”

      “Certainly. I’ve been sending coffee out to the men since they arrived.”

      Greg led her to one of the booths. After she slid in, he sat opposite her.

      Under the lights, he could see that her eyes were green and she had the longest lashes he’d ever seen.

      “I have some questions for you. I know you’ve already talked to one of the policemen. I just have some follow-up questions for you if that’s okay.”

      Randy placed two mugs of coffee in front of them. The woman immediately wrapped her fingers around the steaming cup.

      Finally, she nodded at him.

      “Okay. Let’s start with your name and address.”

      “Sherri Masterson. The address is 2610 Mockingbird Lane.”

      “Are you employed?”

      “I’m finishing my last semester at the university. I help out on weekends at a pet store whenever I can.”

      “How old are you?”

      “Twenty-one.”

      Greg concentrated on getting all of this on paper, but it was tough. He was having such a strong reaction to the woman…girl…that he was embarrassed. He had never met a woman who affected him so suddenly. Maybe he’d been working too many hours or hadn’t been with a woman for too long, but something was going on that was interfering with his concentration.

      He cleared his throat. “Let’s go back a few hours and describe what you were doing.”

      “They needed me to fill in this afternoon at the pet store for an employee who’d gone home sick. After my eleven o’clock class I went in and worked the rest of the day. A friend called me and asked me to go out. We met and had dinner.”

      “Was he with you when you left?”

      “No. He’d parked in front. He watched as I crossed the parking lot and waved when I reached my car.”

      “Did he see the two men?”

      She swallowed. “I don’t know.”

      “Okay. So you got in your car. Then what?”

      “I dropped my keys and they fell beneath the car. I had to reach under the car a little to get them. When I stood, I saw those two men running to a car parked


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