“You don’t need to work out.” He slid his hand down her back to her behind. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m too soft.”

“You’re a woman. You’re supposed to be soft.”

“But I’m—”

He rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. “I look at you and there isn’t anything I can tell myself that makes me not want to be with you.” His gaze moved over her face. “I’ve tried to stay away. Tried to keep my hands off you. I can’t.” He looked into her eyes. “Maybe after tonight I can.”

Maddie’s breath got caught in her chest. She didn’t want one night. She wanted several nights, but he was Mick Hennessy and she was Maddie Jones. She would have to tell him. Soon.

“We better make it good, then.” She slid her hand to the back of his head and ran her fingers through his short hair. “And tomorrow you can go back to being mad at me, and I’ll go back to be ing celibate. Everything will go back the way it was before tonight.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You think?”

She nodded. “Neither of us is looking for love, nor even a commitment beyond this room. We both want the same thing, Mick.” She brought his mouth down to hers and whispered against his lips, “No strings. Just a one-night stand.” Since it was the last time she figured she’d have sex before she jumped back on the wagon, she made sure it was memorable.

She left him long enough to turn on the jetted tub and pour mango-scented bubble bath into the water. Then she took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom. They played within the foamy bubbles, and when it was time, she rode him like a seahorse. This time when she hit her peak, she made sure she called out his name.

Once it was over and Mick flushed the last condom, she fell asleep with her back pressed against his chest and his hand on her breast. He’d been talking to her about something, and she’d nestled her bottom against his groin and passed right out. She’d meant to put on a robe and walk him to the door, but it had been a long time since she’d let herself feel safe and secure and protected. It was an illusion, of course. It had always been an illusion.

No one except Maddie could keep her safe and secure and protected, but it had felt so good.

When she woke in the morning, she was alone. Just as she wanted. No strings. No commitment. No demands. He hadn’t even said good-bye.

She rolled onto her side and looked at the morning shadows playing across her wall. She placed her hand in the indent on the pillow next to hers and curled her fingers into a fist. It was better this way.

Even if she never told him who she was, if she just left town and never set eyes on him again, he’d find out eventually. He’d find out when the book hit the stores.

Yes, it was better that he’d left without a good-bye. One night was bad enough; anything more would be impossible.

Chapter 12

The voice of Trina Olsen-Hays filled Maddie’s office as she scribbled notes on index cards in an attempt to try and make some sort of order out of the taped conversation. Once she finished transcribing the pertinent information, she would shuffle and mix them with other cards she’d made in order to make a timeline she would then pin across her office wall. She’d learned after her first book that it was easier to move things around if they were written on cards as opposed to a straight line.

After an hour of writing notes, she turned off the tape and leaned back in her chair. She yawned and knitted her fingers together on the top of her head. It was Sunday and she figured the citizens of Truly were just getting out of church. Maddie hadn’t been raised in any one religion. As with most everything else while she was growing up, when Maddie had attended church, it had been totally arbitrary and dependent on her aunt’s fickle whims or one of her “programs.” If Great-Aunt Martha saw a 60 Minutes episode about religion, it reminded her that she might be falling down on the job in the God department, and she’d drop Maddie off at a random church and reassure herself on the way home that she was being a good guardian. After a few Sundays, Martha would forget about church and God and move on to something else.

If Maddie had to choose a religion, she’d probably choose Catholicism. For no other reason than the stained glass, rosary beads and Vatican City. Maddie had visited Vatican City several years ago, and it was definitely awe-inspiring. Even to a heathen like herself. But if she was Catholic, she’d have to go to church and confess the many sins she’d committed upon the body of Mick Hennessy. If she understood confession, she should feel repentant, but she didn’t. She might get away with lying to a priest, but God would not be fooled.

Maddie stood and moved into the living room. She’d had a great time with Mick last night. They’d had sex. Good sex, and now it was over. She knew she should feel bad that she hadn’t told him her mother was Alice Jones, but she didn’t. Okay, maybe a little, but probably not as bad as she should feel. She might feel worse if she had any sort of relationship with Mick, but she didn’t. Not even a friendship, and if she felt bad about anything it was that she and Mick could never be friends. She would have liked that. Not just for the sex, but because she liked him.

She moved to the French doors and looked out at the lake. She thought of Mick and his sister and his insistence that she not speak with Meg. Why? Meg was a grown woman. A single mother who supported herself and her son. What was Mick afraid would happen?

“Meow.”

Maddie looked down at her feet. On the other side of the glass door sat a small kitten. It was pure white and had one blue eye and one green. Its head looked almost too big for its body, like maybe it was inbred or something. Maddie pointed at it and said, “Go home.”

“Meow.”

“I hate cats.” Cats were nasty creatures. They shed all over your clothes, shredded the furniture with their claws, and slept all day.

“Meow.”

“Forget it.” She turned and walked through the house and into her bedroom. Her sheets, pillowcases, and duvet cover lay in a heap on the floor and she carried them to the laundry room off the kitchen. She needed to get all reminders of Mick out of her house. No indents in her pillows. No empty condom wrappers on the nightstand. Mick was like cheesecake, and she just couldn’t have anything around to remind her how much she liked and missed cheesecake. Especially when it was so good she’d just gorged herself into a coma the night before.

She stuffed her sheets and pillowcases into the washing machine, loaded it up with soap, and turned it on. As she shut the lid, the doorbell rang, and her stomach kind of got light and heavy at the same time. There had only ever been one person who rang her doorbell. She tried to ignore the feeling in her stomach and the sudden spike in her heartbeat as she moved toward the front of the house. She looked down at her green Nike T-shirt and black shorts. They were old and comfy and not the sort of clothes to inspire lust, but neither had the sweatshirt and pants she’d had on last night, and Mick hadn’t seemed to mind.

She looked through the peephole, but it wasn’t Mick. Meg stood on her porch wearing dark sun glasses, and Maddie wondered how Meg knew where she lived. Maybe from Travis. She also wondered what Meg could possibly want on a Sunday afternoon. The obvious answer was she wanted to talk to Maddie about the book. But Meg looked so much like her mother that another answer came to mind; she’d come over for some kind of confrontation. Maddie wondered if she should break out her Taser, but she’d hate to shoot Meg with fifty thousand volts if she’d just come over to talk about what had happened twenty-nine years ago. That wouldn’t be very nice, and would be counterproductive, since she wanted to hear what Meg had to say. She opened the door.

“Hi, Madeline. I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Meg began. “I just dropped Pete off next door, and I was wondering if I could talk to you a moment or two.”

“The Allegrezzas are back so soon?”

“Yes. They came home this morning.”

A slight breeze played with the ends of Meg’s dark hair, but she didn’t appear agitated or crazy, and Maddie stepped back. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” Meg pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and stepped inside. She wore a khaki skirt and a black short-sleeved blouse. She looked so much like her mother it was spooky, but Maddie supposed it was no more fair to judge her by her mother’s behavior than it was for people to judge Maddie by hers.

“How can I help you?” Maddie asked as the two moved into the living room.

“Was my brother here last night?”

Maddie’s footsteps faltered a fraction before she continued across the living room. While she’d been wondering what brought Meg to her porch, it hadn’t occurred to her that Meg was here to talk about last night’s debauchery. Perhaps she’d need the Taser after all. “Yes.”

Meg sighed. “I told him not to come here. I’m an adult and I can take care of myself. He’s worried that if I talk to you about Mom and Dad, I’ll get upset.”

Maddie smiled with relief. “Please sit,” she said and indicated the couch. “Would you like something to drink? I’m afraid I only have Diet Coke or water.”

“No, thank you.” Meg sat and Maddie took the chair. “I’m sorry that Mick felt he needed to come to your house and order you not to talk with me.”

He’d done more than that. “Like you, I’m an adult, and I don’t take orders from your brother.” Except for when they’d been in the spa tub, and he’d looked at her through those gorgeous eyes of his and said, “Come over here and sit on my lap.”