Confessing to the Cowboy - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,40

grabbed his hat, plopped it on his head and left the restaurant. It was difficult to think of the woman he’d known for the past eight years as a victim of spousal abuse or as a murderer.

Even if she really had killed her husband, at the time she probably would have been able to make a case for self-defense, but so many years had now gone by and her actions immediately following the crime would make it extremely difficult for her to have any kind of a defense.

Nine years. She’d carried this with her for over nine long years. If it were all true and if one of Jason McKnight’s friends were responsible for the death of the waitresses, then what had taken him so long?

When she’d left her home that fateful night, had she covered her tracks that well? What mistake might she have made in the past couple of years or months that had given somebody the information to find her location?

As far as he knew, in all the advertising he’d seen for the Cowboy Café, there had never been a picture of either Mary or Matt. No strangers had been in town in the years since she’d moved here asking subtle questions about her or her son.

Or was this all some sort of a coincidence that had nothing to do with the murdered waitresses?

He hated this.

He hated the whole thing.

For the first time since he’d taken his oath as the sheriff of Grady Gulch, he hated his job. He’d wanted to be the man to make a family with Mary and Matt. He definitely hadn’t wanted to be the man to arrest Mary.

“I don’t want to be disturbed unless somebody is bleeding or has the name of the killer,” he told his secretary, Bev, as he headed for his office.

Once inside he closed the door, sat at his desk and powered up his computer. It was probably going to take him hours, but somehow, someway, he had to go back in time and find out the truth. He had to find out what had happened to Jason McKnight and whether Mary Mathis was the warm, loving woman he’d always thought she was or a cold-blooded, cunning killer named Samantha McKnight.

* * *

Mary didn’t immediately return to the front of the café after Cameron left although she knew the lunch rush would be in full swing. She was too fragile from her confession and all the memories that had flooded through her. She was too much on edge to go out and make nice with all of her diners.

Instead she sank back down on her sofa and tried to keep her thoughts from drifting back in time again. Unfortunately, it was impossible.

Memories of her marriage that she’d shoved away for so many years now haunted her, pouring into her brain. She was not only sickened by the violence she’d suffered at Jason’s hands, but also by how easily she’d fallen into the domestic abuse trap.

She’d been a perfect victim waiting to happen, without family and with only a few fellow waitress acquaintances. She’d been blinded by Jason’s overt charm, and yes, the more-than-comfortable lifestyle he offered to her had been equally appealing at the time. She’d been so alone in the world, working long hours and living in an area that hadn’t been safe.

He’d won her over not only with roses and jewelry, but also in the way he’d looked at her as if she were the most important person in his universe.

She’d loved him on the day they’d married and hadn’t realized how insidiously he’d slowly taken away all control she had, how slickly he’d made her feel as if she was nothing without him.

It wasn’t until Mike’s birth that the violent incidents happened more often. Jason obviously didn’t like to share and he definitely didn’t like vying for his wife’s attention with his new little son.

Eventually her love for Jason had turned to something deeper than terror, something harder than hatred. He was her captor, her tormentor, and the beautiful mansion where he’d brought her to live had become a prison.

By the time of their final showdown she’d felt powerless, trapped and unable to escape. She’d almost given up on getting away, finding a better life. She’d almost lost all her hope.

But the minute she’d realized he intended to inflict pain on her precious baby boy, she’d snapped. Even now when she thought of the violence that had erupted out of her it made her sick