Evidence of Marriage by Ann Voss Peterson Page B

alone.
    â€œI’ll have another detective do it. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere just now.”
    She nodded, but she didn’t move. The way she was shaking, she didn’t know if her legs would carry her. Worse, she didn’t want to leave the protection of Reed’s arms.
    Â 
    B Y THE TIME THE OTHER OFFICERS arrived, Diana had gotten her shaking under control, but the tide of failure sweeping through her wasn’t so easy to stem.
    She’d tried so hard. To stand on her own. To be strong. And yet, she hadn’t been with Reed ten hours and any progress she’d made over the past months had washed away, leaving her clinging and shaking in his arms.
    She leaned against Reed’s car and waited for him and the other officers to complete their sweep of the building. The only thing she could think to do was pray the circuit breaker flicking off was an overloaded circuit. If it was more than that, she didn’t know what she’d do.
    â€œDiana?” Reed walked toward her. A small gift bag dangled from his fingers. He crossed thesidewalk and stopped in front of her. “Who would have left you a gift?”
    Diana stared at the package, her mind a blank. “I don’t know.”
    â€œI might.” He stepped past her and reached for the car door.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œYou can see it later.”
    The tremor reignited, rippling through her legs. “It’s from the copycat, isn’t it?”
    Reed opened the driver’s door.
    She grabbed his arm. “Isn’t it?”
    His bicep hardened under her palm. “You can see it later. You’re in no condition now.”
    â€œI need to see it now.” She pressed back the tears flooding her eyes. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t let the emotions surging through her overwhelm her. Not unless she wanted to prove Reed’s point. That she couldn’t handle the truth. That she might never be strong enough to stand on her own. “Please.”
    He looked down at her, searching as if he could see her thoughts written across her face. Slowly, he dipped a hand into his jacket and pulled out a pair of plastic gloves like the ones he was wearing. “It’s not the type of surface that is likely to give us good prints, but it pays to be careful.”
    She pulled the gloves on. Drawing a deep breath, she opened the bag and peered inside.
    A small box nestled in the bag. The fading twilight gleamed on its white skin. She looked to Reed. “What is it?”
    â€œA music box.”
    Cold skittered up her spine. Memories niggled at the back of her mind, memories she couldn’t quite grasp. “Can I touch it?”
    â€œAre you sure you want to do this?”
    She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure at all. She managed a nod.
    Holding a handle in each hand, he spread the bag open so she could pull out the box.
    Covered in white satin and fluffy tulle, the tiny box looked like a wedding favor. Or a little girl’s dream.
    She grasped the box in one hand and caught the tiny clasp with the edge of her fingernail, flipping it open. She held her breath as she lifted the lid.
    Pink satin lined the box, a mirror fitted inside the lid. And in front of the mirror, a tiny bride twirled, her dress and veil frothing around her like frosting on a wedding cake. A metallic tune tickled the air.
    Diana didn’t remember her childhood before age three. Not really. Only bits and pieces. A feeling here. An isolated image there. But there was no mistaking the song plucked out by the music box’s metallic tines.
    â€œâ€˜The Wedding March.’” Her voice rasped hoarsely in her ears, a voice she hardly knew. But she knew exactly who’d given her this gift. She could feel the shiver of memory in each metallic note. “It’s from him. It’s from Dryden Kane.”

Chapter Six
    Reed stopped his sedan at the curb outside the downtown hotel Sylvie and Bryce had