His Partner's Wife. Janice Johnson Kay

job the first year after Dad was killed. I was probably in middle school by the time she started that. Old enough to be in charge.”

      Still with puckered brow, Natalie studied his face. “Did you feel old enough?”

      No. Hell, no.

      The explosive quality of his realization startled him. Perhaps to disguise his quiet shock, John rubbed a hand over his chin, which felt bristly.

      “You didn’t, did you?” She was too damned perceptive.

      “I went through a stretch when I was scared to death at night. The cops never arrested the guy who shot my dad. Did I ever tell you that? Every night I’d imagine he was breaking into that crummy apartment we rented. The building creaked and whimpered all night long. I was old enough to know the locks were flimsy. If he’d been able to kill my dad, who seemed huge and strong to me, what could I do?” He shook his head. “I never told my mother how scared I was. What could she have done? She had to work. As it was, she went without anything for herself to make sure three boys growing by half-foot leaps had enough on the table, decent clothes and the chance to play sports like our friends.”