The Neighbor - Lisa Gardner [150]
“Who? How? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Shhh.” She took his hands, and the first touch jolted him. He didn’t know if the feel of her fingers against his skin was the best or the worst thing that had ever happened to him. He had wanted her. Prayed for her to come home. Despaired over her return. And now, heaven help him, he wanted to wrap his fingers around the white column of her throat and hurt her as badly as her leaving had hurt him….
She must have seen some of it in his eyes, because her grip on his hands tightened, becoming painful. She urged him closer to the bed, and after a moment, he followed her. They sat on the edge of the mattress, a couple returning to their marriage bed, and still none of it made sense to him.
“Jason, I screwed up.”
“Are you pregnant?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Is it mine?”
“Yes.”
“From … from family vacation?”
“Yes.”
The breath finally left him. His shoulders sagged. He felt bewildered, but less pained. He shrugged off her hands because he had to touch her. This is what he had dreamed of doing, what he had wanted to do, since he’d first heard the news.
He splayed his fingers across the slender expanse of her stomach, seeking some sign of growth. That a little miracle existed here. A real life. One they had made together and—at least on his part—with love.
“You’re still flat,” he murmured.
“Honey, it’s only been four weeks.”
His gaze finally came up. He stared at her, taking in her shadowed blue eyes, gaunt cheekbones. He could see the remains of a bruise above her right temple. A swollen cut on her upper lip. His hands moved on their own, across her stomach to her waist, her shoulders, her arms, her legs. He had to feel each piece of her, to assure himself she was all here, whole, intact, okay. That she was safe.
“I had to learn that you were pregnant from the police. From some sergeant who’s one step away from hanging me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He turned the screws a little tighter. “If they’d arrested me, Ree would’ve become a ward of the state. They would’ve placed her in foster care.”
“I never would’ve let that happen. Jason, please believe me. I knew when I disappeared it might be risky. But I also knew you’d take good care of Ree. You’re the strongest person I know. I never would’ve done this otherwise.”
“Let me be accused of killing my pregnant wife?”
She smiled wanly. “Something like that.”
“Do you hate me?” he whispered.
“No.”
“Is our little family that intolerable?”
“No.”
“Do you love the other man more?”
She hesitated, and he felt that, too, another bruise to nurse in the days and nights to come.
“I thought I did,” she said at last. “But then, I thought my husband was Jason Jones. So I guess we’re both very good at wanting what we can’t have.”
He winced, then forced himself to nod. This is what it came down to in the end. He had started their marriage with a lie, so if she chose to end it with a lie, well, who was he to judge?
He removed his hands from her body. Sat upright, squared his shoulders, steeled himself for what had to come next. “You came back for Ree,” he stated. “So your father can’t have her.”
But Sandra shook her head. She lifted her hand, brushing the moisture from his cheek.
“No, Jason. You still don’t understand. I came back for both of you. I love you, Joshua Ferris.”
D.D. made it out of Roxbury in record time. She had sirens blasting, lights twirling, the whole nine yards. She was simultaneously working her radio, demanding that officers be immediately deployed to the Hastings residence. She wanted Ethan Hastings safely in police custody and she wanted it right now.
In addition, she wanted BPD detectives dispatched to the state police crime lab crime scene, even if that pissed the state off. Wayne Reynolds might be their man, but he was BPD’s witness and whatever he’d known about Sandra Jones had no doubt gotten him killed.
Furthermore, she wanted officers dispatched to the Boston Daily offices. Not a single computer was