Foul Play - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,42
the order machine. He grinned at Amy. “Is this romantic enough for you?”
Amy had to smile with him. He was invincible. He’d joked with the policemen and jollied her through the entire ordeal. He’d proudly announced their engagement to every passerby newsmen included. In fact, he seemed to be not at all bothered by the fact that his life was going down the toilet.
Nothing had gone right since he’d known her, she silently wailed. He’d ruined two ties, pitched himself into a Dumpster, been made a public spectacle, almost been arrested, and had his reputation slandered. This wasn’t going well. They weren’t just talking tremors here. They were looking at earthquake-quality vibes. She shrank back into the seat when Jake reached for the bag of food.
The girl behind the counter leaned out the drive-through window. “Hey, aren’t you the lady who cooks chickens? Like wow. Like omigod.”
Amy smiled weakly and nodded acknowledgment as Jake stepped on the gas and turned the car toward Main Street. “You’re getting quite a following. I never thought I’d have a wife who was famous,” he said, reaching for his chocolate shake.
“I think the word is infamous. I feel like Lizzie Borden.”
Jake took a long pull on the straw. She was mustering up a reasonable amount of bravado, but under it all she was really hurting, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. Part of it was a sense of responsibility to maintain a certain image for the children who had watched her, but it had to be more than that. She’d looked like an angel in the police station with her blond curls and serious wide blue eyes, responding politely to everyone. A credit to her acting ability, he’d thought, remembering the few unguarded moments when the facade had slipped, and she’d seemed so lost. Almost victimized. Like a piece of driftwood, floating downstream, unable to control its journey.
He snitched a french fry while he waited for a light. It was always dangerous to second-guess someone. Maybe he was reading too much into this. She’d led a very law-abiding, sheltered life. Maybe she’d just been overwhelmed by the police station. He didn’t want to be insensitive, but he also didn’t want to make more of this than it was. Hell, maybe they should just move to Arizona and start over.
They finished their meal on the back porch, topping it off with fresh strawberries and ice cream, watching the night sky spread a calming blackness over the earth. Jake played with the ruffle on Amy’s sleeve. “Is there something you’d like to talk about?”
She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to think. She was afraid if she thought too clearly, she’d have to make painful decisions, so she kept her eyes on the oak tree at the far perimeter of her yard. Its trunk was thick and gnarled; its branches spanned the house. A survivor, Amy decided. It had eluded the bulldozers that had leveled the land in preparation for her housing development. It had been in the appropriate place: a small swale between two lots. Perhaps that was her problem … she was never in the appropriate place.
A warm breeze moved through the leaves, producing a hypnotic clacking sound. She felt Jake’s fingers at the nape of her neck, stroking, caressing. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of his touch, a lovely lethargy taking possession of her. Jake always knew how to make her feel better.
Chapter Nine
Rain. As if she wasn’t depressed enough, it had to rain. Not even a healthy rain that could be considered cozy, pattering on leaves and windowpanes. This rain drizzled. Gray, dreary drizzle. Amy pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. She didn’t think she could face another day.
She listened to Jake singing in the shower and narrowed her eyes. He had a lot of nerve waking up happy. Little Miss Mary Sunshine. He wasn’t Miss Mary Sunshine last night when he told her the pot roast was dry. And he wasn’t Miss Mary Sunshine at the office when she couldn’t find a file. Nobody was Mary Sunshine at the office. Everybody was walking around like their shorts were too tight.
It was almost a week since the damn rooster had gotten snatched and the customers were still uncomfortable. The boarding cages were empty, and Jake was eating so many doughnuts he couldn’t button his shirt. She flopped over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. “Ugh.”
Jake strolled into the bedroom, dropped his