You Don't Want To Know - By Lisa Jackson Page 0,20

Regina was long dead, the result of an automobile accident in which Uncle Crispin had been at the wheel. He’d survived and shortly thereafter had taken up with Piper. Ava wanted no part of the conversation with Piper.

“. . . of course,” Virginia was saying, and glanced down the hallway where she spied Ava gathering her purse. Shaking her head and waving her off, Ava hoped that the cook would get the message. Of course she didn’t. “She’s right here,” Virginia said brightly. “Just a second.”

With a smile as warm as the frosts of winter, Virginia headed her way. Ava steeled herself.

Thrusting the phone into her hand, the cook announced, “It’s your aunt.”

Perfect. Shooting Virginia a don’t-ever-do-this-to-me-again glare, she yanked the phone to her ear and said, “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you’re all right! I was so worried after Jewel-Anne called last night.” Piper. In her mind’s eye, Ava conjured her impossibly thin aunt whose flaming red hair shot out of her head like lit firecrackers gone wild, all curly streams that she couldn’t tame without massive amounts of hair straightener. Piper’s fingers would be splayed theatrically over her more-than-ample chest, her breasts out of proportion to the rest of her tiny body.

“I’m fine,” Ava assured her, and sent Virginia’s broad backside a withering look as the cook lumbered toward the kitchen.

“Are you? I can’t tell you how upset I’ve been. Ever since Jewel-Anne called me last night, I’ve been beside myself. I couldn’t decide whether to make this phone call or not; then I said to myself, ‘Ava is your niece, damn it, Piper. You need to call and see how the poor girl is doing.’ ”

“I’m good,” Ava said dryly.

“Oh, how can you be?” Piper asked on a sigh. “After all you’ve been through? I know it’s none of my business, but if I were you, I’d sell that drafty old house, move off that sorry rock, and start over. Most of Wyatt’s business is in Seattle anyway, so why stay on the island and relive that horrible night over and over again? I’m telling you, Ava, you need to do this for your sanity. As long as you stay there, you’ll be forever haunted, and that’s just not healthy, don’t you know? You and Wyatt, you need to have another baby and—Oh my, listen to me ramble. More advice than you ever wanted to hear.”

Amen, Ava thought as her aunt tittered.

“Anyway, I just wanted to hear your voice, find out how you were doing, and I’ll pass it along to your uncle, too. He’s been worried sick!”

Crispin, the brother Ava’s father had swindled out of his share of the Church fortune? Ava didn’t believe for a second that he cared one iota what happened to her, the last of his brother’s progeny.

“Oh, dear, I’ve got another call. We’ll talk later,” Piper said, and clicked off.

Ava hung up with relief and then hurried through the kitchen and out the back door before some other relative decided to pick up the phone. Who knew who Jewel-Anne had called or texted or e-mailed or Facebooked or whatever? Ava didn’t want to hang around and find out. Besides, she really needed to straighten things out with Wyatt. She’d been short with him. Actually, she’d been a full-blown bitch the last couple of days, always suspicious as hell, always second-guessing his motives. And he, too, was tense. Well, who could blame him? Their fight today was indicative of the state of their marriage. Maybe she should try to start over . . . if it wasn’t too late.

Casting a glance at the stable again, she thought about the new man Wyatt hired and told herself to trust that her husband had picked the right man for the job.

She walked swiftly down the back steps to the curving drive and through the massive open gates to the road leading into town. Monroe was less than half a mile down the hill, built upon the shore where the bay fingered a little inland, and Ava figured the walk would help clear her head and keep her focused.

Without meds.

Hopefully the fresh air and exercise, not to mention getting out of that prison of a house, would help dispel the headache that seemed to be constantly lurking inside her brain, ready to rage at any moment.

She slid a pair of sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose and kept to the side of the road where the gravel-covered sparse moss and weeds hadn’t quite died with the