The Next Accident - Lisa Gardner [109]
“I know, baby. I know it’s been hard.” In contrast to her high-pitched pain, he sounded calm, gentle, kind. She let the words wash over her bruised thoughts and strained emotions. She held the phone closer to her mascara-stained cheek.
She had always loved the sound of his voice. Mandy once had commented on his eyes, that it was the power of his gaze that drew her in. For Mary, however, not allowed to see him much, it had always been the sound of his voice. How he could seem to know her anguish from hundreds of miles away. How he could whisper in her ear across the telephone lines and lend her his strength in the middle of the night when her husband had finally fallen asleep but she knew it was only a matter of hours before he awoke and it would start all over again.
“He tells me what to say, what to do, what to wear,” she whispered brokenly. “I didn’t know it would be like this. Why did he want to marry me, if he hates me so much?”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Mary. Not all men can handle that.”
“But I never gave him anything to worry about!” she cried. “I mean . . . well, you know, not before. God, I’m tired! I miss you. I need you. I’d give anything just . . . just to hold your hand, see your smile. Make me feel beautiful again.”
“I wish I could, honey,” he said apologetically. “I really do.”
“Why not? It’s been days since the Conner woman showed up. Surely it’s safe by now. We can meet anyplace you want. I’ll take the precautions you showed me. Please, it’ll be all right.”
“But love, it’s not all right. Don’t you know? You’re being watched.”
“What?” She gasped, genuinely surprised.
“I tried to get a note to you two days ago,” he explained. “But then I saw a small silver hatchback tucked inside the bushes with a clear view of anyone entering or exiting your property. I watched the car for hours, and it never moved. I’m sorry, baby, but I think your husband is having you followed.”
“No! The goddamn jealous prick. I’ve never given him any reason . . . I mean not before. Oh, fuck him! What are we going to do?”
“What can we do? If he gets even one picture of us together . . . I know you don’t want that to happen. Not after everything you’ve been through.”
“I won’t give him the satisfaction!” Mary vowed. “By God, when I leave the son of a bitch he’s going to pay me every dime he’s worth. I should leave him today, this instant. I’ll just . . . I’ll just do it!”
“The shorter the marriage, the less likely you are to receive half his assets,” he said gently.
She started to cry again. “What am I going to do? I miss you. I am going insane!”
He didn’t say anything right away. There probably wasn’t anything to say, and she knew that even if she didn’t want to admit it. She was a married woman. She did need her husband’s money. Oh God, her shoulder hurt. So did her ribs. Some mornings she wasn’t sure how she made it out of bed. The more her husband beat her, the angrier he seemed to be. Was it himself he hated for hitting her, or herself for never saying no?
How did my life come to this? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. . . .
“I have an idea,” her lover said.
“Yes. Anything. Please.”
“This afternoon, a box of chocolates will arrive. Godiva, I think. The brand doesn’t matter. Are you listening?”
“Yes.” Her voice was breathless.
“I want you to take the box and walk down the road until you see the silver car. A black man will be sitting behind the wheel.”
“Oh my God!”
“He’s not going to hurt you, baby. He’s a private investigator, no doubt the best your husband’s money can buy. Tap on the window. Smile charmingly. Then, tell him you know what he’s doing. He’ll be chagrined, embarrassed about being caught. You become even more charming. Invite yourself to join him, tell him you just want to talk. Then pour out your heart about your evil husband,