wanted something. A loan? Russell Montgomery never bothered being charming without a reason. Unfortunately, it had taken her four years of marriage to discover that.
“Experience is the best teacher,” her father had always said. “A man learns more by living than he can get from books.” She supposed that counted for women as well. She knew that being married to Russell had given her quite an education.
She paused long enough to gather Muffin in her arms and give the cat a quick hug. “At least I can depend on you,” she murmured. Muffin was a superb mouser, and if she could just train her to drop the little rodent bodies in the trash instead of carrying them up to deposit on her bed, life would be that much calmer.
Liz was halfway to her car when she noticed a small boat approaching her landing. The operator stood and waved. Liz got into her car and drove across the lawn to the dock.
Jack Rafferty cut his motor, allowed his boat to drift against the mooring post, and leaped ashore. “Morning, Lizzy,” he called.
Uncertainty made her voice sharper than she intended. “What are you doing here?”
He paused and gazed at the house. “You’ve cleaned the old place up,” he said. “Looks good.”
“Jack, I’ve got to go to work. If you stopped by to reminisce about old times—”
“No, I didn’t. Come with me. There’s something I want you to see.”
“Why would I go anywhere with you? I have a class this morning.”
He strode toward her, and the years fell away until she was seventeen again, standing on this spot and watching him come up the dock. Jack had added muscle since then, but the Rafferty eyes were the same intense hue, and he still moved with grace and purpose.
“What’s happened to you, Lizzy? Lost your nerve? You didn’t mind missing school in the old days.”
“I was a stupid kid, Jack. I’m not that anymore.”
He stopped. “No, guess you’re not,
Doctor Clarke
.” He shrugged. “But this has to do with you and probably with Tracy’s murder.”
“Can’t you just tell me?” She knew the answer.
“Showing’s easier.”
He’d told her the same thing the time she’d asked him if he cared about her. Jack had never said the words she’d longed to hear. Instead, he’d pushed her down on the deck of his father’s fishing boat and kissed her. No boy had ever kissed her that way before, and if she shut her eyes, she knew she’d feel the sun-heated planks beneath her bare back again and taste the salt on Jack’s skin.
Oh, Lord, Jack Rafferty was her weak spot.
“Come on, unless you’ve gotten too high and mighty to take a ride with an ex-jailbird.”
Common sense told her to turn the car around and drive to school, but Jack had always known how to make her break the rules. “Give me a minute to change into jeans and call to let the school know I’m not coming in.”
He nodded, and she hurried to the house. She took the stairs at a run, located clean jeans, boat shoes, and a T-shirt, and pulled them on. Using a pad and ballpoint pen from a drawer in her nightstand, she left a note on her pillow.
Gone for a boat ride with Jack Rafferty.
If she disappeared, at least someone would know whom she’d been with last.
Liz wondered if she was getting paranoid. This was Jack, for God’s sake. She ran a hand through her short hair, then picked up the note and crumpled it into a ball. She was about to toss the paper into the trashcan when she hesitated, unsure if she was behaving irrationally or not. Hadn’t she just found a dead girl in her office? That wasn’t normal. Maybe she had good reason to be paranoid. She threw the message on her bed and hurried downstairs.
Twenty minutes later, she was seated in the bow of Jack’s boat as he steered a course out of the river and into the Delaware Bay. He turned south and headed down the coast. The tide was low, and Jack kept the small craft far enough from the beach to keep the motor from hitting bottom.
It had been too
“Experience is the best teacher,” her father had always said. “A man learns more by living than he can get from books.” She supposed that counted for women as well. She knew that being married to Russell had given her quite an education.
She paused long enough to gather Muffin in her arms and give the cat a quick hug. “At least I can depend on you,” she murmured. Muffin was a superb mouser, and if she could just train her to drop the little rodent bodies in the trash instead of carrying them up to deposit on her bed, life would be that much calmer.
Liz was halfway to her car when she noticed a small boat approaching her landing. The operator stood and waved. Liz got into her car and drove across the lawn to the dock.
Jack Rafferty cut his motor, allowed his boat to drift against the mooring post, and leaped ashore. “Morning, Lizzy,” he called.
Uncertainty made her voice sharper than she intended. “What are you doing here?”
He paused and gazed at the house. “You’ve cleaned the old place up,” he said. “Looks good.”
“Jack, I’ve got to go to work. If you stopped by to reminisce about old times—”
“No, I didn’t. Come with me. There’s something I want you to see.”
“Why would I go anywhere with you? I have a class this morning.”
He strode toward her, and the years fell away until she was seventeen again, standing on this spot and watching him come up the dock. Jack had added muscle since then, but the Rafferty eyes were the same intense hue, and he still moved with grace and purpose.
“What’s happened to you, Lizzy? Lost your nerve? You didn’t mind missing school in the old days.”
“I was a stupid kid, Jack. I’m not that anymore.”
He stopped. “No, guess you’re not,
Doctor Clarke
.” He shrugged. “But this has to do with you and probably with Tracy’s murder.”
“Can’t you just tell me?” She knew the answer.
“Showing’s easier.”
He’d told her the same thing the time she’d asked him if he cared about her. Jack had never said the words she’d longed to hear. Instead, he’d pushed her down on the deck of his father’s fishing boat and kissed her. No boy had ever kissed her that way before, and if she shut her eyes, she knew she’d feel the sun-heated planks beneath her bare back again and taste the salt on Jack’s skin.
Oh, Lord, Jack Rafferty was her weak spot.
“Come on, unless you’ve gotten too high and mighty to take a ride with an ex-jailbird.”
Common sense told her to turn the car around and drive to school, but Jack had always known how to make her break the rules. “Give me a minute to change into jeans and call to let the school know I’m not coming in.”
He nodded, and she hurried to the house. She took the stairs at a run, located clean jeans, boat shoes, and a T-shirt, and pulled them on. Using a pad and ballpoint pen from a drawer in her nightstand, she left a note on her pillow.
Gone for a boat ride with Jack Rafferty.
If she disappeared, at least someone would know whom she’d been with last.
Liz wondered if she was getting paranoid. This was Jack, for God’s sake. She ran a hand through her short hair, then picked up the note and crumpled it into a ball. She was about to toss the paper into the trashcan when she hesitated, unsure if she was behaving irrationally or not. Hadn’t she just found a dead girl in her office? That wasn’t normal. Maybe she had good reason to be paranoid. She threw the message on her bed and hurried downstairs.
Twenty minutes later, she was seated in the bow of Jack’s boat as he steered a course out of the river and into the Delaware Bay. He turned south and headed down the coast. The tide was low, and Jack kept the small craft far enough from the beach to keep the motor from hitting bottom.
It had been too
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