your heart out, Curt Wentworth.
Marianna clamped the lid on the memories and the feelings they still invoked. Not feelings for him, just the feelings of not measuring up or being good enough.
He’d certainly fooled her for a long time. But she’d learned her lesson well. And while she’d been honest when she’d said she’d forgiven him, she sure hadn’t forgotten his behavior. Or his constant pushing for her to get a cochlear implant, a surgically implanted device that worked as a “mechanical ear.” It was great for some people, she just chose not to go that route right now. She shook her head at her stupidity. He could have asked her for almost anything that wasn’t illegal or immoral, and she would have done her best to oblige.
Anything but to get a cochlear implant. And he’d refused to listen to her or her reasons why she didn’t want one. She didn’t want to risk destroying the hearing she had left. She was also comfortable with her deafness and didn’t need to be “fixed.” It was a concept Curt couldn’t compute and refused to accept that she knew her own mind on this topic. Marianna grimaced. Okay, Lord, give me something more pleasant to think about this morning, please?
Immediately, Ethan’s face appeared in her mind’s eye. She grabbed her jacket as she allowed herself to think about the good-looking cop. She’d been surprised he’d fit in so well with her family—and to find out he’d had a deaf sister…well…
The lamp on her bedside table flashed. All of the bedrooms were wired with a flashing light to alert the occupant that someone was “knocking” on the door. There was actually a small button to push, similar to an indoor doorbell that activated the light.
She opened her door to find Gina standing on the other side. Her sister signed, “You ready?”
“Yes, I guess. Curt’s bugging me again this morning.”
Her sister sighed and shook her head. “I hope you told him to leave you alone.”
They started the walk down the hall to the stairs. Gina turned and walked backward down the steps, gripping the rail with her left hand as she signed with her right. Marianna smiled at the leftover childhood behavior and answered, “I did, but it doesn’t seem to faze him much.”
Gina, dark hair, dark eyes and slightly overweight, still had all the features of the Santinos. Full lips and slightly slanted eyes gave her an exotic look, showing off her Italian heritage, but somewhere down the line the family had some Japanese blood, too. Her sister wore it well.
“Want me to get rid of him for you? I know a guy or two.”
“No, I wouldn’t want to get Mario in trouble before you guys even get married.” Her sister’s fiancé was an army ranger. “I’ll handle Curt. Now, let’s get to church.”
The rest of the family, including her father, who was finally looking a little better after his bout with whatever had laid him low the last couple of weeks, dispersed to their respective cars. Marianna rode with Gina, who planned to have lunch with friends after church. As they drove, Marianna couldn’t help thinking about the break-in from Friday night. As much as she didn’t want to, she remembered the terror she’d felt, the pure fear that had almost held her paralyzed.
Did the guy find what he was after? Did that incident have anything to do with Suzanne’s murder?
She shivered in spite of the heat blowing from the vents.
Would he be back? Would she feel safe staying there by herself now, unable to hear if danger came prowling again?
A nagging sense of unease kept her nerves on edge. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything much but the continued flashes of remembered terror.
Think of something else!
Her parents and Alonso led the way ahead of them. Marianna looked in the side mirror to watch the traffic behind them, mulling over her options: Stay in a house where she’d constantly be scared. Go stay with her parents. Move in with a friend from school.
None of the options really appealed to her. As she’d told her mother, it looked as if she would be moving back home temporarily.
A silver sedan with tinted windows cruised sedately behind her and Gina. At the traffic light, the man in the green SUV that pulled up next to her seemed to be watching her. She smiled, then kept her eyes straight ahead. The SUV turned right and she wilted. Paranoia is only a good thing when someone’s after you, she reminded herself. Otherwise they lock you up in the loony bin, okay? Relax.
By the time they reached the church, Marianna’s nerves were shot. And it didn’t help that the silver sedan that had been following them most of the way turned into the parking lot behind her.
* * *
Feeling refreshed from a good night’s sleep, yet antsy at the lack of progress in the case, Ethan determined to work on finding the man—or men—who’d broken into Marianna’s home. He needed to see her, to dig deeper into her past and Suzanne’s.
You’ve already done that, O’Hara. You’re just looking for an excuse to see her.
The thought taunted him. He blew out a sigh. Oh, all right, he admitted it. He wanted to see her. But he really did need to hash the case out with her, too. Sometimes the victim is so busy being the victim that he or she subconsciously refuses to bring memories to the surface until later, after the passage of time when once again the individual is feeling secure, safe.
Acting completely out of character, Ethan impulsively decided to meet her when she came out of church and see if she would have lunch with him. He’d almost gotten up to go, but had wimped out at the last minute. It had been a while since he’d been to the large church downtown that his parents had frequented. Since Ashley’s death, it just hurt to go back and be reminded of how much she’d loved being a part of the youth ministry, how much she’d loved giving to and serving others. But maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe if he’d have let people reach out to him…
Questioning his motives during the ten-minute drive to the church she’d mentioned attending, the one with a small deaf ministry, he pulled up outside of the sanctuary to sit and stare at the door. After a few minutes, his gaze wandered and the political poster in the window of the building across the street caught his attention.
It was election year and the campaigning was fast and furious, narrowing the candidates down one by one. Clayton Robertson seemed to be the favored one of the more conservative party, while Terrance Sloane ran a strong opposition.
Should be an interesting political year all the way up to the day in November when people would stand in line and vote in the next governor of South Carolina.
Ethan shook his head. He was all for democracy, but the money that went into these campaigns galled him. When he thought of the good those funds could do and how he always wondered if it was spent as it was supposed to be, he shook his head and sighed. Well, he voted; not much else he could do about politicians and their issues.
A movement from the doorway of the church pulled him back to the reason he was here.
Marianna Santino.
A whole herd of people stampeded toward their vehicles after shaking hands with the pastor standing at the sanctuary exit. Finally, Marianna came out signing animatedly with a young girl. Ethan didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he caught that Marianna was reminding the girl
