feeling well anyway, so Mom wouldn’t let him come out in the cold.” She paused, bit her lip and looked away from him. “I spent the night at my parents’ house again last night. I just couldn’t…I guess tonight I’ll stay at my house.” Tears pooled and this time she couldn’t fight them. Several dribbled down her cold cheeks.
A warm cloth swept them away. Ethan had pulled out a handkerchief. Grateful, she took it from his hand and finished mopping up. “Thanks. I’m sorry. I suppose the tears will stop one day.”
“Let yourself grieve. It’s okay to hurt. And it’s okay to stay with your parents awhile. No one would blame you.” All gentleness and compassion, his eyes said he hurt for her.
She pocketed the handkerchief. “I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”
“No hurry. Come here.” He took her hand in his and urged her along behind him.
She followed, stopping when he placed a hand on her arm. Wondering what he was doing, she watched his face, waiting for him to speak. “Okay, now, you can see the people getting in their cars. Tell me if you see anyone who sticks out.”
Marianna turned. She and Ethan stood at the top of a gently sloping hill, making it easy to watch the crowd scatter to their various vehicles below. The rain had slacked off. People closed their umbrellas, affording Marianna a pretty good view of faces she hadn’t been able to see earlier.
She gasped, “There’s Bryson.”
“The ex-boyfriend, right?”
“Yes. I mean, I don’t know why I’m surprised he’s here. It was a mutual breakup without any hard feelings. Of course he would be here. I’m sure Suzanne’s death came as a shock.”
“I still want to talk to him and maybe catch him off guard so I’ll see a true reaction. Excuse me, okay?”
Marianna watched the good-looking young attorney head for his black BMW. Ethan set off after the man, leaving her trailing slowly behind and watching the two of them. Then the feeling of being watched caused her to glance over her shoulder once more. Nothing and no one around her stood out as suspicious.
Her BlackBerry vibrated. Shoving her hand in her pocket, she kept her eyes on Ethan as he approached Bryson. When the device hummed again, she glanced at it. And groaned.
Curt Wentworth. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone?
She flipped the cover and read his text.
“We need to talk. Stop being so stubborn and meet me this evening for dinner.”
Not in this lifetime, buster. What would it take for him to get the message she wanted nothing more to do with him? He’d put his hands on her in anger and left bruises on her. He’d also been verbally abusive. He was the last person she wanted to have dinner with. For at least two minutes, she stared at it, debating what to say. Unable to come up with anything she wouldn’t regret, she closed the unanswered message and the machine, clenching her fist around the device.
A gentle hand covered hers. Startled, she realized Ethan had come back. She shivered. And realized something else. The feel of his hand on hers felt right.
“Problem?” His brows climbed to reach into the shaggy blond hair that lay across on his forehead.
“What?” She’d missed what he’d said. Trying to speech read through a red fog of anger didn’t come in her little bag of tricks.
“Is there a problem?” he repeated.
“Oh. Yes. But nothing I can’t handle.” And she would handle it. Just as soon as she figured out how.
“I don’t mind helping out.”
“I said I could handle it.” She appreciated the offer but didn’t need another person in her life trying to take care of her. Winning her independence had been a tough battle, but she’d done it.
Hands held up in a gesture of surrender, he backed up a little. “Gotcha.”
Feeling a tad guilty at her snappiness when he’d been nothing short of wonderful, she bit her lip and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little…”
“…stressed,” he finished for her. “Understandable.”
“So, what did Bryson have to say?”
“I get the impression he was truly upset.” Ethan recalled the man’s red-rimmed eyes and genuine air of grief. “He said something about the fact that they’d been talking about getting back together.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“I asked him if he’d be willing to give us a DNA sample so the crime scene investigators could compare it with anything they found…if they find something. He said he’d go down first thing Monday morning.”
“I always liked Bryson. I’m not exactly sure why they broke up, but I think he was pressuring Suzanne to get married and she wanted some space. She never really talked about it, though, even with me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t push, figuring she’d tell me if she wanted to.”
Ethan watched her features, marveling once again at her physical beauty. And yet she was so much more than just a pretty package. In just the short time he’d known her and under the worst circumstances, she’d shown herself to be the epitome of…what? He searched his brain for the right adjective.
Class. The woman was pure class.
Shadowed dark brown eyes stared at him, and he realized he hadn’t responded to something she’d said. “Sorry, my mind went wandering.” No sense in telling her where.
Marianna flashed a dimpled smile, brief but sincere. “It’s fine. I was just saying that I needed to get…home.” She grimaced, and he knew she wasn’t excited about the idea. After a minuscule hesitation, she took his hand between hers and gave it a quick squeeze, her closeness and light, fruity perfume scrambling his senses. Biting her lip, she gave him a shaky smile. “Thank you for everything. I hope you’ll keep me updated on the case.”
“Absolutely.”
Marianna left the cemetery and began the short drive home. She dreaded going into her house alone, yet had turned down several offers of accompaniment. Not exactly sure why, she just knew she didn’t want to be around a bunch of people, including family. She knew she faced a lot of cleaning up and most likely more uncontrollable tears. Better to do that without an audience. Ethan had started to insist that he follow her but had gotten a call and had to leave. That had been fine with her.
She’d texted Joseph, asking him to bring Twister home so the dog would be there to greet her. He’d agreed against his better judgment, arguing she didn’t need to be by herself.
She pulled into the driveway and turned the car off. The house loomed, small and empty. It shouldn’t seem particularly scary, yet a tremor shook her at the thought of walking up the path to her porch. Memories almost overwhelmed her, tempting her to once again run home to her mom and dad.
At least the door was closed today.
