Could she do it? Their numbers were in the outdated Rolodex on Burke’s desk. Allison had used it to find their addresses when she’d sent the party invitations—written invitations with an RSVP, from Burke’s trophy wife. They’d probably hooted about that behind her back.
Calling them could wait till morning, she decided. Or better yet, she could ask Garrett to do it. Right now, what she needed was rest.
In the chilly bedroom, she stripped down, pulled on her sweats, plugged in her phone on the nightstand, and crawled between the sheets.
She’d hoped to fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Instead she lay staring up into the darkness, her thoughts racing like runaway horses on a carousel.
What about Burke’s car? Where was it now? She would need to call the insurance company—she didn’t even know which one. And where was Burke’s phone? Maybe Garrett knew. After all, he was the one who’d called the police. But she couldn’t become dependent on the man, Allison reminded herself. He would be all too quick to take advantage of what he perceived as her weakness. Now was the time to take charge and be strong.
First thing tomorrow she would be at the hospital, whether Burke wanted her there are not. She would be patient and understanding with Brianna. But when it came to her husband’s welfare, she would not be put off by anybody—including Burke himself.
Like Kate, she would have to be a tigress.
Reading Kate’s letter the second time had burned words and phrases into Allison’s memory. She recalled what Kate had said about Burke’s being away so much in his work as a talent agent, missing birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and family crises. But through all that, they’d managed to hold their marriage together.
We’ve had a rich life, Burke. And the rough times have only made the good times sweeter.
Rough times. So the marriage hadn’t been perfect after all. But what kind of rough times had Kate and Burke survived? What had given them the strength to move on together?
Now, with her secure world shattering around her and Burke demanding a divorce, Allison ached with the need to know.
Too restless to sleep, she flung back the covers and walked across the bedroom to the French doors that opened onto a small second-floor balcony. The damp night breeze stirred her hair as she leaned on the rail, gazing out across the lake toward the distant lights of the marina.
Burke still kept his boat there, stored in dry dock. Not once since his marriage to Allison had he even mentioned taking it out on the water. Allison had assumed he was too busy with work or had lost interest. But maybe his reasons went deeper than that. Maybe the vintage twenty-foot Cobalt 200 Bowrider held too many memories.
She had memories, too, Allison reminded herself. She’d been married at nineteen, to her high school sweetheart, a dazzling boy named Kevin who’d dreamed of becoming an actor. She’d followed him to Hollywood and waited table
s to pay rent while he found an agent, landed occasional bit parts, and partied with friends she didn’t like or trust. The dream of stardom had ended after three years, when she’d lost him to a drug overdose. But before that, there’d been moments of sweet craziness when she’d almost believed things would work out for them.
Allison had picked up the pieces of her life and moved on. But she’d been wary of involvements with men—until, years later, Burke had walked into her little gift gallery, and the magic had happened.
Where was the magic now?
Had it ever been real? Or had it been that sweet, fleeting craziness all over again?
Shivering as the chill penetrated, Allison turned away from the railing and drifted back into the bedroom. Downstairs, Kate’s letters waited for her like a Pandora’s box that she feared to open. She had vowed not to touch them again. But what if Kate and Burke’s loving marriage held some insight into surviving this crisis and saving her own? How could she turn her back on that chance?
She would read one more letter—just one—tonight. After that, she would weigh the wisdom of reading the rest.
Decision made, she wrapped herself in the cashmere robe she’d given Burke, left the bedroom, and walked down the hallway to the stairs.
CHAPTER 4
Allison switched on the desk lamp, settled into Burke’s chair, and opened the bottom left-hand file drawer. She wasn’t proud of herself for what she was about to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Was that true, or was she just rationalizing the urge to snoop?
She found the manila envelope she’d stuffed into the back of the drawer. Pulling it out, she laid it on the desktop.
Just one letter—that was all she would read. And she’d made up her mind on the way downstairs that she would make a random choice, taking a chance on what she’d find.
Focusing her gaze into the darkness beyond the desk, she reached into the manila envelope and groped among the letters. Choosing one, she tightened the clasp of her fingers and pulled it free.
The small envelope was pink, addressed to a motor lodge somewhere in Texas. The postmark dated this letter eleven years earlier than the one Allison had read first. Kate and Burke would have been in their thirties, Brianna not much more than a toddler.
There were just two pages, pink like the envelope. Allison had come to recognize Kate’s neatly rounded handwriting, but this time the script had a slightly forward slant, as if scrawled in haste or even anger.
Bracing herself for whatever she might find, she began to read.