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“I’m not the one shacking up with the hulk when my husband’s body is still at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean.”
Allie’s sharp intake of breath was loud in the pristine kitchen. She hugged her elbows, gathering herself. “I want you to go now.”
For the first time, Jo noticed the broken blood vessels in Allie’s gaze.
Fuck. She wiped a hand across her eyes, searching deep inside for a scrap of calm. “Look, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. It’s just…” My life is falling apart and I’m hanging on by my fingertips. And even though it kills me to ask for it, I need your help. “Allie—”
Bang!
Jo swung to face the open kitchen door. They were here. How had they got here so fast?
“Mrs. Smith?” The voice echoing down the hall boomed. Another thump to the front door and the letterbox rattled.
“He’s going to fucking break the door.” Steven’s thick neck creased.
“I’ll get it.” Allie placed a placating hand on Steven’s arm. “Wait here.”
“Don’t answer it,” Jo whispered.
Allie tossed a grimace over her shoulder as she exited the kitchen. “I think I’ll decide if I want to answer my front door or not.”
Jo pivoted. The kitchen was tiny. Nowhere to hide. Ignoring Steve’s blank expression, she dodged across the hall before Allie opened the front door, ducking into Luke’s study and easing the door closed behind her. She pressed her ear against the wood, fighting to slow her breathing and the manic thud of her heart.
“Mrs. Smith. Good morning.” The voice was officious. “We’re here to—”
“Can I see some identification?”
Jo bit down on her lower lip. Go Allie.
A grunt as they retrieved identification. “I think you will find everything in order?” The voice continued. “We have reason to believe your sister-in-law, Joanna Smith, may try to contact you.”
“I see.” Allie drawled. “Takes three of you to ask that, does it? What did she do? Is there a reward or something?”
“Have you been in contact with your sister-in-law, Mrs. Smith?”
Jo stopped breathing, willed the heavy thud of her heart to stop.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
It was all over.
“No. I haven’t.”
Jo shuddered, clamped a hand over her mouth, air leaking from her stunned lungs.
“Now if you have nothing else to ask.” Allie’s voice ratcheted up several octaves. “I’m a widow and widows should be left in peace, don’t you think?”
“Of course. If you see or hear anything. Please call—”
The door slammed.
Jo sagged against the wall, then slid down to a squat, her thighs quivering. Too close. Far too close.
The study door opened. Allie’s arms were folded, a black business card between her right forefinger and thumb.
“You didn’t tell them I was here.” Jo pushed back up to her feet.
