was my father who was looking into divorce. He met with Randall Scott, not Faye.”
“Why did Faye have the number on her phone?”
“No idea. Maybe she knew Scott and asked him to take Dad as a client. What I do know is that she would never divorce you out of the blue like that.”
“You think that’s it? Abbott was divorcing Rachel? Really? That would be so great!”
“I wouldn’t say it was great, Joseph. A divorce is not great, but I’m sure you’re relieved it wasn’t Faye.”
“Yeah...that.”
“Faye wouldn’t have cheated on you, either. She would have asked you to go to marriage counseling first. She—” She stopped, realizing a possibility. “I bet I know who’s at that other number. Dial it. Put it on speaker.”
Warily he did what she asked. The message machine kicked in right away. You’ve reached the office of Dr. Eli Finch...
“He’s a psychiatrist,” she said. “Faye went to him for depression and anxiety, and he prescribed her some pills.”
Joseph’s eyes went wide. “How did you know that?”
“Her iPad had a note about picking up prescriptions, so I got them and called the doctor’s number.”
“She wasn’t having an affair? You’re sure?” She’d never seen him look so wide-eyed and happy. He’d been in agony over this, which explained his moodiness, how much he’d fidgeted whenever she asked him questions. He thought he’d disappointed Faye enough to send her into the arms of another man.
“I’m as sure as I can be.”
“Thank God.” He fell back in his chair. Gradually, the wide-open look of relief on his face changed to determination and he sat straight up and locked gazes with her. “I know you think Faye shouldn’t have married me, but I swear to you that if she wakes up, I’ll prove you wrong.”
“You don’t have to prove it. I already know I was wrong. Faye loved you. She chose you. And I had no business second-guessing her.”
“Now I need to hear Faye say that.” Abruptly, his face crumpled and he buried it in his arms on his desk and sobbed his heart out. Joseph’s love for Faye was clearer to Tara than ever. In a few minutes, once he’d collected himself, Tara offered to drive him home.
After that, she headed to Dylan’s house for supper, nervous about seeing him and what they would say to each other.
All the reasons they couldn’t sleep together again swirled in her brain, but the minute she saw his face in the doorway, she just threw her arms around him, so glad to see him, so happy to be with him after a long, difficult day.
He stiffened slightly before he returned the hug. Uh-oh. He wanted to put on the brakes. She let go and backed up. “Smells great,” she said to cover for her impulsive move, really glad she’d left her suitcase out in the car. He clearly intended them to share a supper, not a bed.
“Nothing fancy. Just spaghetti.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m sure you had work you should be doing instead, so I appreciate it.” She was losing him again. She felt that twist of pain, the swirl and drop like her insides were dissolving.
To hide her reaction, she crouched to greet Duster.
“I checked Fallon’s cruiser for you,” Dylan said.
“You did?” She stood, grateful for the change of subject.
“No dents or scrapes. So he didn’t hit the car. I got him to show me the evidence. He complained it was a waste of storage and man hours, but he dumped out the boxes for me. No bumper piece.”
“Shoot. Maybe it’s still at the site. I hoped to email a photo of the bumper to the accident expert. I expect his call any time.” She tried to focus on the case and ignore her sinking heart, the lump in her throat, the way her eyes burned.
“Let’s eat, huh?” he said, leading her to the kitchen. They sat at the table, both of them awkward, it seemed. Dylan served spaghetti, set out salad bowls and garlic bread.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” she said. “I had to drive Joseph home. He was drunk.”
“What?” He put down his fork.
“I know. We had the strangest conversation....” She told him the story haltingly, her mind not on the words. Dylan seemed to be only half listening, too. “So, all that odd behavior was out of guilt.” She stopped, unable to stand it anymore, and braced her hands on the table. “You think last night was a mistake, right? That why you’re acting like