Page 32 of Risk of a Lifetime
Evans sounded irritated.
JB didn’t care if the man was or wasn’t. “I told her to call you with the same information.”
“That all?”
This conversation wasn’t making his day any better. “Yeah, that’s all. Thought you might like the help.”
“Thanks for the information. Sorry for my tone. I got the sheriff calling in every hour on the hour. Leads coming in that mean nothing except for when the owner of the tattoo parlor called. Said they’ve gotten a couple of pieces of hate mail, but nothing to write home about.” Evans exhaled heavy. “Then there’s Landon.”
JB tensed. “What’s he done now?”
“For one thing, it’s a job keeping him out of my evidence and paperwork. Was he like that when you two were partners?”
“I only worked with him on one case.” JB’s shoulder’s tensed. “Since you mention it, I’ve heard he’s an in-your-face type of guy. Want me to talk to him?”
Evans thought a good, long time. “No. Keep me informed if you hear anything, though. You, I know. You, I trust.”
“Sure thing.”
“And try to keep an open mind about the idea that Marcy isn’t a target, JB. I still say there are coincidences in the world.”
JB ended the call, started the truck, and sped down the road, catching up to Marcy’s car. As usual, she drove five miles below the speed limit. He gave her a few car-lengths.
Coincidence…maybe, maybe not. Didn’t matter. Marcy was his main concern, and he’d watch out for her whether any of them liked it or not—Evans or Landon.
…
Marcy glanced out the corner of her eye at Betsy. “What were you and JB talking about?”
“Trying to be civil to one another.” Betsy lip glossed, then blotted a leftover napkin she’d found in the console.
“Did you tell him?” Marcy doubted she had. Otherwise, she and JB would be at home having an entirely different conversation.
“No, I didn’t tell him. Did you, little sister?” Betsy rolled her window down and let her long, red hair blow free in the wind. “He’s bound to find out sooner or later. Better if it comes from you.”
Marcy checked her speed. Her shoulder still hurt, and these hills weren’t something she wanted to miss a curve on. “What makes you say that?”
“You could explain to him why you asked for a divorce in the first place.” Betsy motioned to JB trailing behind them. “I’m sure he’d have a few questions.”
Marcy gripped the steering wheel. “If he hadn’t wanted a divorce, then why did he sign the papers?”
“Did it ever occur to you that a man doesn’t take kindly to being served divorce papers from a wife that kicked him out for no reason?”
“I had a reason.”
“What?” Betsy mocked her sister. “What reason? And don’t say because he wanted to be an FBI agent. JB’s been wanting that since he knew what they did. So tell me what he did that day that pushed you over the line.”
“I forget.” Marcy bit her lip. Lie. That was a lie. She remembered exactly what happened.
He had Thursdays off from the Crayton Police Department back then. The day before had been when he’d returned from the two-day undercover op that had upset her. They had had words, and she’d gone to a different bedroom to sleep. Didn’t matter… he’d slept on the sofa.
Thursday morning, from right after breakfast until lunch, he’d spent his time online, researching everything he could find about being an FBI agent. Even made phone calls to the agency and talked to someone about careers. After lunch, he’d researched living in Washington, DC. Asked her what she thought about moving. Would she be able to start a marriage counseling practice there?
She’d balked. Refused to talk about a move. Then he’d asked her to give it a try. JB had never before asked for anything for himself. Never. She’d told him no. Get over it. Crayton was enough excitement for the two of them.
He’d looked up at her from the computer and asked one more time. She’d seen the look on his face. Knew how much he wanted to be an agent. So she’d set her no-way expression and shook her head. Then he’d turned off the computer and said “I love you.” When he walked outside to mow the yard, she saw the slump of his shoulders. The defeated gait.
In that moment, she’d realized she was the one too weak to go, but he deserved the chance to follow his dream. She had no doubt about him being a good agent, so she’d packed his bag and set it on the front porch. Otherwise, he’d have never left her. She had to admit, though, that she’d hoped he would simply appreciate the sacrifice she was making and come back inside.
