Honeymoon - James Patterson [63]
She felt relieved.
Then Nora watched as Craig climbed into his black Beemer. His combed-back hair was still wet from a shower. His good looks seemed so effortless, she thought. She missed him, and he hadn’t even left town yet.
He backed out of the short driveway and turned in Nora’s direction. Hurriedly, she ducked down in the front seat, waiting for him to pass. The green Jaguar was just another parked car along the curb, albeit the nicest one.
She’d follow him for a few miles until it was crystal-clear he was headed to the airport. Everything would be okay. Better than okay. He’d call later that night from Chicago and she’d tell him how much she missed him, which wouldn’t be hard to do. She’d joke with him about having an AT&T orgasm.
Nora smiled at the thought. What is going on with me? she wondered.
She was tailing Craig from about a hundred yards as he headed southeast toward the Westchester airport. It was a route she knew well. Along the way she chided herself. “Better paranoid than sorry” was her favorite mantra, but she felt she’d gone a bit overboard this time.
She’d had these same doubts about Craig before, but like the first time, following him was turning up nothing.
Nothing, that is, until he put his blinker on.
Chapter 84
THERE WERE A LOT of ways to get to the Westchester airport, but unfortunately, this wasn’t one of them. The road didn’t even qualify as the scenic route. When Craig signaled and made the turn, Nora knew right away: he had another destination in mind.
She didn’t want to jump to conclusions. There was such a thing as a “good” lie, and she held out hope. Maybe he was surprising her with something.
Miles later, when she saw a sign announcing Greenwich, Connecticut, straight ahead, she thought of her favorite jewelry shop there, Betteridge. She tried to picture Craig presenting her with a small box topped with a bow, telling her that he made up the trip to Chicago so he could surprise her with a gift, a little white lie.
But Greenwich came and went.
And with it, so did much of Nora’s hope. She still didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but she was as close to the edge of anger as someone could get. Anger, hurt, a lot of mixed emotions—and none of them good.
That’s when Craig entered the town of Riverside, Connecticut. The way he was driving, it was pretty clear that he was familiar with the area. Why was that? Eventually he turned down a dead-end street.
Nora stayed by the corner, finally easing to a stop. She looked around. The houses weren’t huge or anything, but they were well maintained. A far cry from his apartment in Westchester.
So what is Craig doing out here in Connecticut? Why the suitcase? Why lie to me?
About midway down the street his BMW pulled into a driveway past a red mailbox. Nora watched intently as he got out of his car, her eyes straining to cover the distance.
He stretched, then walked up the front steps of the house, a white Colonial with forest green shutters.
Before he could knock, the door swung open and out ran two young boys.
They jumped into his arms and he hugged and kissed them in a way that instantly ruled out uncle, cousin, or volunteer Big Brother. Craig Reynolds was definitely their father.
Does that mean he’s . . . married?
Nora’s eyes shot to the front doorway at the sight of someone else. Her heart pounded and she wanted to throw up. But as quick as Nora saw the woman standing there, she realized she couldn’t be looking at Mrs. Craig Reynolds. Not unless he had a thing for foreign-grandmother types. This woman had nanny written all over her.
Then someone else caught Nora’s eye. Leaning out of the far window on the second floor was another woman—attractive in a suburban kind of way. She was waving down to Craig. Something different written all over her.
Wife.
Nora threw her head back against the seat of the Jaguar and cursed like crazy. Every four-letter word in