Grave Secrets (20 page)

None of which Sara had visited.

She thought back to all the times he’d been gone on business trips. So why hadn’t he been at the hotels where he’d told her? She remembered each occasion, because she’d wanted to go with him several times. He’d refused, saying she’d be bored since he’d be in meetings all day and most of the night.

There were receipts for lingerie and a novelty shop—she didn’t want to speculate on what was purchased there—as well as tickets to see ZZ Top. That was odd. He’d always insisted they attend the opera. Why would he be going to a rock concert?

Bile rose in her throat as a sinking feeling settled in her chest.

A long legal looking envelope peeked out from the stack of receipts. She pulled it out of the pile and slid the document out of the folder. Time stood still as she scanned the details. It was a deed for a house. A house she knew nothing about.

Finally she focused on the names. Jason Adams and Melissa Long.

She started shaking uncontrollably—couldn’t breathe—as tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked. A white hot poker skewering her couldn’t have hurt worse. Jason had been distracted for more than a year before his death, but she’d attributed it to work. An affair had never crossed her mind. And apparently not just any kind of affair. He’d bought the woman a house! Not to mention the jewelry and trips, from the looks of all the receipts.

Unable to stand looking at the evidence of her husband’s infidelity a second longer, she swept it all off into the floor, and glared at the scattered pieces of paper as if they were a festering wound. She jumped from the chair, deliberately twisting the receipts underfoot as she stormed out of the room that had once given her solace and comfort.

When she reached the hallway she stopped, trying to decide where to go. Every inch of the house reminded her of
him
. Of the love and life they’d shared, but everywhere she thought to go had been “his.” Except one. She turned toward the sunroom, her refuge. Once there, she crumpled into a heap on the loveseat and let the hurt out and allowed her heart to break. Laying her head on her arms, she sobbed.

She’d thought losing him to death had been devastating, only this was far worse. The realization she’d lost him long before he died hurt beyond words. She cried so hard, she thought she’d cough up her insides. She cried until she didn’t think she had any tears left. Then she’d recall the other woman’s name on the deed, and the tears would start anew.

Exhausted, she finally fell asleep, only to wake later with a crick in her neck. The pain that had so consumed her had now evolved into a dull numbness. It was as if she had no emotions left. Pushing off from the couch, she headed to the kitchen and splashed water on her face. With steel determination, she walked back to the study. Not one shred of his life was going to be unknown by the time she was through. Sara wanted to know every minute detail of Jason’s sordid affair.

With her foot she scooted all the receipts into a pile, scooped them up, and dropped them back on the desk. Without looking at who they were from or what they were for, she started sorting by date. Call it perverted curiosity, but she had to know when the affair started. When all the pieces of paper were stacked chronologically, she checked the date on the first one. It was almost two years ago.

Two years. And she’d never had a clue.

“You bastard,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Too bad you aren’t here now. I’d show you the ‘proper’ way to conduct myself, you lying, self-righteous hypocrite.” Furious did not come close to the emotions rolling through her.

One by one she went through the receipts, noting how the gifts started out relatively small, then escalated; how the trips began as an overnight stay, then evolved into week-long excursions.

“Good Lord, I’ve been stupid, and naïve, and...stupid,” she said in disgust as her husband’s secret life unfolded before her. Why had he kept the receipts? Although, knowing Jason as a fanatical number cruncher, he probably couldn’t bring himself to throw them away. The arrogant pig.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t discover your dirty secret, Jason?” She half expected his voice to answer. “Come on. Try taunting me some more. Let’s see who comes out on top this time!” Anger, then humiliation flooded her.

Did others know of his affair? Such as his accountant? Who else? His friends at the club? Were they talking about her behind her back?

As she pondered the question, she realized they didn’t know because there was no way they could have
all
kept it a secret. Well, thank God for small favors. At least he’d been discreet. No, he couldn’t tarnish the “good” Adams name. She snorted. Yeah, right. Good name, indeed.

And here she’d been so concerned when they’d exhumed his body about what society was saying, what others thought. Who cared? Not her. Not anymore. Not ever again. From now on she was living her life for her. For her and for Kaycee. That was all that mattered. To hell with what anyone else thought.

Slowly her breathing returned to normal. Now that she had her emotions under control, had a grip on herself, she needed to talk to someone. Cat was out. Her best friend didn’t have a spare minute to even say hi, much less go into a pity party with Sara.

She snatched up the deed, checked her image in the powder room mirror, and decided she looked good enough. Not perfect as Jason had always insisted—right up to the night he died, she recalled—but good enough. Mascara wasn’t smudged too badly, she didn’t have any lipstick on and she’d cried most of the carefully applied makeup off. Even so, she didn’t look like a scarecrow, either. With the deed in her fist, she hooked her arm around her purse and headed out the door.

Several minutes later, she sat outside Morgan’s office. Simply sitting in his parking lot lowered her blood pressure. She didn’t have to think about it. She knew Morgan Daniels would never cheat on the woman he professed to love. The man had too many scruples. Besides, Sara had to tell someone or go stark raving mad.

Charlene took one look at Sara’s face and told her to go right in to Morgan’s office, yelling down the hallway to announce her arrival. He met her as she reached his office and immediately folded her into an embrace as he closed the door.

“What’s wrong?” Tenderness, then fierce protectiveness echoed in his voice.

He started to step back, but she clung to the front of his shirt, shaking her head silently. She didn’t want him to let her go. Not yet. He didn’t ask anything else. Instead he silently held her and waited. After a few minutes, he planted a kiss on her forehead. As he held her, she absorbed his strength—his calm. Soon the tears that had begun to soak his starched white shirt dried.

Sniffing, she took a deep breath and glanced up at him. Concern and confusion etched his features. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t planned to blubber all over you.” She wiped a hand over the now mascara stained wet spot. She hoped he didn’t have to be anywhere important.

Ignoring his shirt, he asked, “What’s happened? Did you hear from Reece or the M.E.?”

“No, I...” Now that she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to say to the man who had touched her heart the night before. Sara moved around him and swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Sit. I’ll have Charlene bring you—”

“Please don’t. I’m all right. Better now, actually.” She threw him a tentative smile. For a minute, she thought he’d protest but finally relented as he directed her to the small couch in the corner, taking a seat beside her.

“Is this about last night? Listen, I know I crossed the line but given a choice, I wouldn’t change a thing. To hell with ethics.”

His eyes darkened, warming Sara’s heart. She reached out, clasped his hand. “No. You made me feel like a woman again. You brought me back to life. I hadn’t realized I’d put every feeling except grief on hold, putting my life on hold.”

“So you don’t hate me for taking advantage of you?” He squeezed her hand.

“Morgan, I could never hate you. You’re my crusty marshmallow.”

“Hey. Do
not
go around telling people that. I’ll never get another job as a PI.” He grinned.

She smiled in return. “I pinky swear. Your secret’s safe with me.”

His eyes turned dark. “Can I see you tonight? Even though it’s a lot smaller than yours, we can go to my place. I’ll pick up take-out.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “You want me.” She shouldn’t have spoken her thoughts. At least one man found her desirable.

His breathing picked up as he ran his thumb over her hand, sending heat pooling in her lower regions, causing her nipples to harden.

“I shouldn’t, but I want you so much I hurt. I probably should’ve just spent the night cause I sure as hell didn’t get any sleep after I got home.”

Trailing his hand up her arm, he cupped the back of her head. Slowly he leaned in. “One taste. Just—one.”

As his lips touched hers, she reveled in the power she held over him. The kiss was sweet, gentle. Like the man making love to her with his mouth. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, just his lips and the one hand holding her in place. She resisted the urge to crawl in his lap. Later, she promised herself.

The tension of the last couple of hours melted away.
This
was what she needed.
He
was who she needed. Nothing else mattered.

Except...

Reluctantly she pulled back. “Despite being in your office, I’d love to take this a step further. But I need to talk to you. I need your help.”

Kissing her knuckles, sending another sweet shiver straight to her groin, he said, “Whatever it is, you got it.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever say these words, but...” Morgan’s open expression gave her courage. “Jason had an affair.” There. She’d said it out loud. It felt good to be able to vocalize it.

He pulled back. “Bastard,” he muttered.

She hadn’t been sure of his reaction. At least he supported her. Recounting the events of the morning, she’d expected Morgan to become irate, but he simply sat there listening, hands clasped between his knees, reminding her of one of her statues again.

“I’m sorry, Sara, but I’m not surprised.”

“What?” He didn’t know Jason, didn’t know anything about him.

“Most of my clients are looking for evidence of their cheating spouses. More often than not, it’s the wife cheating on the husband.”

“But Jason...” He’d what? Been true to her? Loved her above all else? Her heart sank. “I’m just another statistic, aren’t I?”

His silence confirmed her thoughts.

“Now what?”

“Go on with your life.”

“No. I have to see her.”

He took her hand again. The look in his eyes was sympathetic, nothing more. “Not a good idea.”

She jerked back. “What do you mean? You said you did this sort of thing all the time. Don’t you do stakeouts with long range lens cameras or something?”

“I do. However, even after the client has visual proof of their spouse’s infidelity, they’re not happy because it’s never enough. At that point, they just want revenge and it gets ugly. You don’t want to do that to yourself.”

How could he be saying this to her? After the kiss they’d just shared? After last night? “You won’t help me,” she choked out the words.

He rolled his shoulders. “I didn’t say that. I said it’s a bad idea.”

“Why? Are you so jaded you think it’s normal for a marriage? For the vows to mean nothing?”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“If you were in my shoes, you’d have a different reaction.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.”

Disappointment washed over her right before irritation obliterated every other emotion. What happened to the understanding man she’d come to know? Oh, wait. He was a man. That was the problem. Between that and his job, he couldn’t possibly sympathize. How could she have been so blind?
Because when he held me, caressed me, I felt cherished.

“Yet at the same time, you don’t want to help me. He took her on trips I would’ve loved to have gone on. He bought her expensive jewelry.” She threw up her hands in defeat. How could he understand? Sara had given Jason
everything,
including the greatest part of them both—Kaycee. Her heart clenched. Had their whole marriage been a lie? Not at first. She’d swear to that. In the end? Yes, it had been. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. Jason had deceived her, and she’d let him. In retrospect, she’d made it easy for him and hadn’t suspected a thing.

“Sara. I only want to spare your feelings. Jason’s dead, so there’s no point in pursuing this.”

“He bought her a house, for Heaven’s sake!”

Suddenly she had his attention. “How do you know?”

“Because I found the deed.”

Intense, he leaned forward. “Whose name is on it? You might be able to take ownership.”

Here she sat an emotional wreck, yet all Morgan thought of was the monetary aspect of the situation. Figured. She pulled the deed out of her purse, handing it to him. “Jason Adams and Melissa Long,” she said as he quickly scanned the document. She hated even saying the woman’s name.

“I’ll look into it.” He folded the deed, stuffed it back in its sleeve, and gave it back to her.

“Fine.” Don’t put yourself out, she wanted to add. She stood, needing to get her bearings.

Before she could get out the door, Morgan grasped her arm, then slid his hand down to hers. “Don’t leave this way. I didn’t think you needed anymore heartache and confronting this woman would only hurt you more. Try to let it go.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “His betrayal cut me too deep. I have to at least see her, see why he left my bed for hers. Don’t you understand?”

He studied her silently. Sara knew when he’d finally accepted she wouldn’t give up—she saw it in his eyes.

“Okay. I get it. Don’t think I ever did with any of my other clients. With you, I do.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, then stepped into the hall. Charlene, concentrating on her computer screen, was having a loud conversation on the phone, as if there was a bad connection or the other person was hard of hearing. Sara’s steps slowed.