Ash stood in the impound lot at the Abilene police station, heart in the pit of his stomach, knees weak, looking at what was left of Melody’s Audi Roadster. Suddenly he understood why everyone kept saying that she was lucky to be alive.
Not only was it totaled, it was barely recognizable. He knew it was a rollover accident, he just hadn’t realized how far it had rolled, and the momentum it had gained by the time it hit the tree that had ultimately stopped it. The passenger’s side was pretty much gone, completely crushed inward.
Had she hit the tree on the driver’s side, there was no doubt she wouldn’t have survived. Also, Mel always drove with the top down, but apparently it had been raining, so when she flipped over there was at least something there to keep her from snapping her neck. Although just barely, because the top, too, was crushed, and at some point had come loose and was hanging by a single bolt.
He hated Melody for what she had done to him, but he wouldn’t wish an accident like this on his worst enemy.
According to the police, she’d tried to swerve out of the way when she saw the bike. Unfortunately it had been too late.
He walked over and peered in the driver’s side, immediately seeing what he was looking for. He tried the door but it was hopelessly jammed. With one hand he pushed the top out of the way then reached around the steering wheel and grabbed the keys from the ignition. He hit the release for the trunk, but it didn’t budge, and he had no better luck with the key. If there was anything in there, she was going to have to live without it.
He turned to walk back to the entrance, then as an afterthought, walked back and snapped some pictures with his phone. The matter had already been reported to his insurance company, but it never hurt to be thorough and keep a record for his own reference.
When he was back in his rental car, he punched the address the P.I. had given him into the GPS and followed the commands until he was parked in front of a house about fifteen minutes from the hospital.
The house itself was tiny but well-kept, although the neighborhood left a lot to be desired. How could she go from a penthouse condo to living in what was barely a step above a slum? To be with her lover? If so, the guy had to be a loser. Although if she had come here to be with her lover, why hadn’t he been at the hospital with her?
Well, if there was someone else there, he was about to find out.
There were no cars in the driveway, and the curtains were drawn. He walked to the front door with purpose, slid the key in, and opened it. The first thing that hit him was a rush of cool air punctuated by the rancid stench of rotting food. At that point he knew it was safe to assume that she lived alone. No one would be able to stand the odor.
Covering his face with a handkerchief, he walked through a small living room with outdated, discountstore furniture, snapping on lights and opening windows as he made to the kitchen. He saw the culprit right away, an unopened package of ground beef on a faded, worn countertop, next to a stove that was probably older than him. She must have taken it out to thaw right before the accident.
He opened the kitchen window, then, for the landlord’s sake he grabbed the package and tossed it in the freezer. He was sure the contents of the fridge were similarly frightening, but since neither he nor Mel would be returning, he didn’t feel compelled to check.
There was nothing else remarkable about the room, so he moved on to explore the rest of the house.
The bathroom counter was covered with various toiletries that he didn’t recognize—and why would he when they didn’t share a bathroom—but everything was distinctly feminine. He checked the medicine chest and the cabinet below the sink but there was no evidence that a man had ever lived there.
He searched her bedroom next, finding more old and tacky furniture, and an unmade bed. Which was odd because back home she always kept things tidy and spotless. He found a lot of familiar-looking clothes in the closet and drawers, but again, nothing to suggest she’d had any male companionship. Not even a box of condoms in the bedside table. He and Melody had at one time kept them handy, but not for quite some time. They were monogamous, and he was sterile, so there really never seemed a point.
She had obviously had unprotected sex with someone, or she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. It hadn’t even occurred to him earlier, but now he wondered if he should go get himself tested for STDs. Melody had callously put her own health and his in jeopardy. One more thing to hold against her.
He searched the entire room, top to bottom, but didn’t find the one thing he was looking for. He was about to leave when, as an afterthought, Ash pulled back the comforter on the bed and hit pay dirt.
Melody’s computer.
In the past he would have never betrayed her trust by looking through her computer. He respected her privacy, just as she respected his. But she had lost that particular privilege when she betrayed him. Besides, the information it contained might be the only clue as to who she was sleeping with. The only explanation as to why she left him. She owed him that much.
He wanted to look at it immediately but he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand the stench and he still had to pack Melody’s things. Most of her clothes he would ship home and have his secretary put away, keeping only a smaller bag in Texas, to make his two-week trip story more believable.
He looked at his watch and realized he was going to have to get moving if he was going to get back to the hospital before visiting hours were over. Though he was exhausted, and wanted nothing more that to go back to the hotel and take a hot shower, he had to play the role of the doting fiancé.
He crammed her things into the suitcases he found stored in her bedroom closet, shoved everything into the trunk of his rental car to sort later, then headed back to the hospital, but when he got there she was sleeping. Realizing that he hadn’t eaten since that morning—and then only a hurried fast-food sandwich before his flight boarded—rather than eat an overpriced, sub-par meal in the cafeteria, he found a family diner a few blocks away. It wasn’t the Ritz, but the food was decent, and he had the sneaking suspicion he would be eating there a lot in the next week to ten days. When he got back to Mel’s room she was awake, sitting up and clearly relieved and excited to see him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it back.”
“I said in my note that I would be back. I just had a few things to take care of.” He pulled up a chair but she patted the bed for him to sit beside her.
She looked a lot better than she had earlier. Her eyes were brighter and there was more color in her cheeks, and as he sat, he noticed that her hair was damp. As if reading his mind, she said, “They let me take a shower. It felt so wonderful. And tomorrow they want me to start walking, to get the strength back in my legs.”
“That’s good, right?”
“The nurse said the sooner I’m up and moving around on my own, the sooner they’ll discharge me.” She reached for his hand, and he had no choice but to take it. “I can hardly wait to go home. I’m sure that once I’m there, I’ll start to remember things.”
He hoped not. At least, not for a while. That could definitely complicate things. “I’m sure it will,” he told her.
“Did the hotel still have my things?” she asked hopefully.
“Hotel?”
Her brow furrowed. “I just assumed I was staying at a hotel, while I did my research.”
He cursed himself for letting his guard down. The last thing he wanted was to rouse her suspicions. He swiftly backpedaled.
“You were. I just thought for a second that you remembered something. And yes, they did. Your suitcase is in the trunk of my car. I’ll keep it at my hotel until you’re released.”
“What