Passion's Law. Ruth Langan

the door closed behind him, she settled down to the computer and began scrolling until she found the figures she was searching for. But as she stared at the screen, the numbers blurred and she found herself replaying in her mind the kiss they’d shared.

      She’d been kissed dozens of times. Hundreds. But she had never in her life felt anything that even came close to what she’d experienced with Thad Law.

      What was happening here? She’d always considered herself a calm, intelligent, sensible woman. And yet, in the space of a single day, she felt as though her life had tilted at some crazy angle. As though she’d been caught up in something completely out of her realm of experience and totally out of her control.

      Maybe it was just because Thad Law was unlike any of the men she’d ever known. Most of them were smooth-as-silk members of her family’s country club, with a string of degrees after their names, eager to marry well and move up the corporate ladder. Most of them saw her as the perfect corporate wife.

      Thad Law was about as far removed from that as a man could be. Tough talking, rough around the edges and completely unconcerned about how he appeared to others. But she had the sense that he was a man who would finish whatever he started, to the best of his ability, come hell or high water. Maybe that was why he so intrigued her. He appeared to be that rarest of all breeds—a man of integrity.

      And though it galled her to admit it, even to herself, she couldn’t wait to see him again.

      Three

      The normally blue sky had turned to dull gunmetal gray. The sun had taken refuge behind dark clouds that gathered and thickened.

      The family began drifting into the dining room. Heather stood with nine-year-old Joe, Jr., and seven-year-old Teddy, teasing them about the gloomy weather.

      “Don’t worry,” Heather laughed. “You know what the song says. The sun’ll come out tomorrow.”

      Both boys groaned and gave matching pained expressions before dissolving in laughter.

      Their laughter faded when their mother entered. It was clear to see that she was already well on her way to throwing a full-blown temper tantrum. Her eyes were as stormy as the clouds outside the windows. Her mouth a thin, tight line of anger.

      As always she found fault with the way the table was set, with the flowers that had been carefully arranged as a centerpiece. She even found fault with the way Heather was dressed.

      “This isn’t a barn.” Meredith looked her up and down without bothering to hide her contempt. “Save your denims and boots for the horses. I expect you to dress for dinner while you’re a guest in my home.”

      It was on the tip of Heather’s tongue to remind her aunt that this wasn’t the White House, but one look at her two young cousins, and she felt a wave of sympathy. It must be terrible to have to live with so much seething anger and resentment. There seemed to be no love left in this home.

      “If you’d like me to change…” she began.

      “If I’d like?” Meredith’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Are you so thick-headed you have to ask? Get this straight. I don’t want to see you in this room until you’re wearing what you’d wear to one of your fancy country club dinners. Is that understood?”

      Before Heather could reply Meredith slammed out of the room, leaving her sons staring after her in disbelief.

      Hoping to calm them, Heather put an arm around each of them and gave them her brightest smile. “Looks like this is your lucky day. You’re about to see me looking the way I look at a glamorous dinner party. I’ll be right back after I change.”

      They all looked up at the sound of a loud report, followed by the shattering of glass.

      “What was that?” Teddy’s eyes went wide with fear.

      Even as he cried out the question, they all knew what they’d heard. It was unmistakably a gunshot. The sound was eerily like the sound they’d heard another time, at Joe’s party.

      For the space of a heartbeat they all went perfectly still, absorbing the shock.

      Heather was the first to recover her senses. She was already rushing through the open doorway and toward the stairs, a scream lodged in her throat, when the boys started after her. Seeing them, she stopped and held out her hands.

      “You don’t want to come up here,” she said insistently. “Not until I see what’s happened.”

      The thought of these two little boys finding their father lying in a pool of blood, dead or wounded, was too terrible to contemplate. As they rushed toward her she caught them and held them back, then glanced over their heads to where Inez stood in the doorway, staring in stunned silence. “Take the boys with you into the dining room and keep them there.”

      The poor woman was too frightened to respond.

      Just then her aunt hurried into the hallway.

      The woman who had for years pretended to be Meredith paused at the scene before her. Her mind couldn’t seem to take in what her heart already knew. The gunshot. The eerie silence. It was so much like the previous time. But that time she’d been prepared. It had all been carefully choreographed by her, Patsy Portman. This time the gunshot had caught her completely by surprise. What was going on here? This hadn’t been part of her plan. In fact, she’d been so busy trying to do away with Emily, she hadn’t given any more thought to getting rid of Joe.

      “Aunt Meredith.” Seeing her aunt’s apparent confusion, Heather adopted a tone she’d used as a camp counselor whenever she was dealing with an errant child. “You don’t want your boys to go up here. Please see that they stay downstairs, out of harm’s way.”

      For a few more seconds Patsy’s mind seemed to be somewhere else, mulling this strange twist. Then, with great effort, she pulled herself back from her thoughts and called sternly, “You heard Heather. Come down here and wait with me.”

      Heather turned away, relieved, and started up. Just then Joe Colton appeared at the head of the stairs. In his eyes was a look of dazed fury.

      In a voice that sounded deadly calm he said, “Heather, call the police.”

      “Are you all right? Was it a gunshot?”

      He nodded. “I’m fine. Call now. And, Heather…”

      She paused.

      “Keep everyone downstairs and in one place until the police detectives have had a chance to gather evidence. We know the routine by now. I don’t want anyone messing up footprints or other signs this madman may have left behind.”

      She was so grateful to see that her uncle was alive and unharmed, she could hardly speak. She gave a quick nod of her head, then raced toward the phone. After speaking with the police, she realized that she was trembling. Joining the others in the dining room she sank down onto a chair and waited for the tremors to pass.

      Thad Law was out of his car and striding across the yard within minutes of the call. He was thankful that he’d been in the vicinity. Otherwise there was no telling how long it might have taken him.

      As he drew near the front door he saw a shadowy figure and drew his gun.

      “Police. Hold it right there.” He saw the figure pause and dart a look toward him. At that same moment he took careful aim. “I wouldn’t move if I were you, unless you’d like this to be your last minute on earth.”

      The voice was low and deep and slightly out of breath. “What the hell is this about?”

      “I’ll ask the questions.” Thad could see the man clearly outlined in the spill of light from the glass panels on either side of the door. His shrewd cop’s mind was already memorizing every detail. A hair over six feet. Strong, rugged build. Jet black hair. Dressed casually enough, in charcoal slacks and sweater. To blend into the darkness? Thad wondered.

      He