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“Then what are you waiting for? End it before you sink your next relationship.” Heath paused, his brow furrowing in thought. “Unless that’s how you like it.”
“How I like what?”
“Our marriage is your little barrier to the world. You’ve dated at least seven or eight guys that I know of, none of them ever getting serious. But that’s the way you want it. As long as you’re married, you don’t have to take it to the next level.”
“You think I like failing? You think I want to spend every Christmas here watching everyone snuggled up into happy little couples while I’m still alone?”
“I think a part of you does. It might suck to be alone, but it’s better than making yourself vulnerable and getting hurt. Trust me, I know what it’s like to get your heart ripped out and stomped on. Being lonely doesn’t come close to that kind of pain. I’m tired of you using me, Jules. Make a decision.”
“Fine!” Julianne pushed past him, her vision going red as she stomped upstairs into her room. He’d kissed her and insulted her in less than a minute’s time. If he thought she secretly wanted to be with him, he was very, very wrong. She snatched her cell phone off the bed and went back to the kitchen.
By the time she returned, the phone was ringing at her attorney’s office. “Hello? This is Julianne Eden.” Her gaze burrowed into Heath’s as she spoke. “Would you please let Mr. Winters know that I’m ready to go forward with the divorce paperwork? Yes. Please overnight it to my secondary address in Connecticut. Thank you.”
She slammed her phone onto the kitchen table with a loud smack that echoed through the room. “If you want a divorce so damn bad, fine. Consider it done!”
Five
The rest of the afternoon and most of the next day were spent working. They focused on their chores, neither willing to broach the subject of their argumen
t and set off another battle. The divorce papers would arrive at any time. They had things to get done. There was no sense rehashing it.
They were unloading the last of her equipment from the rental truck when Heath spied Sheriff Duke’s patrol car coming up the driveway.
Julianne was beside him, frozen like a deer in the oncoming lights of a car. He handed her the box he’d been carrying. “Take this and go inside. Don’t come out unless I come get you.”
She didn’t argue. She took the box and disappeared through the back door of the storage room. He shut the door behind her and walked around the bunkhouse to where Duke’s Crown Victoria was parked beside his Porsche.
Duke climbed out, eyeballing the sports car as he rounded it to where Heath was standing. “Afternoon, Heath.”
Heath shook his hand politely and then crossed his arms over his chest. This wasn’t a social call and he wouldn’t let his guard down for even a second thinking that it was. “Evening, Sheriff. What can I do for you?”
Duke slipped off his hat, gripping it in his left hand. “I just came from the hospital. I spoke with your folks.”
Heath tried to keep the anger from leaching into his voice, but the tight clench of his jaw made his emotions obvious as he spoke. “You interviewed my father in the hospital after open-heart surgery? After he had a heart attack the last time you spoke? Did you try to arrest him this time, too?”
“He’s not in critical condition,” Duke said. “Relax. He’s fine. Was when I got there and was when I left. The doctors say he’s doing better than expected.”
Heath took a deep breath and tried to uncoil his tense muscles. He still wasn’t happy, but at least Ken was okay. “I assume you’re not here to give me an update on Dad as a public service to the hospital.”
A faint smile curled Duke’s lips. “No, I’m not. Would you care to sit down somewhere?”
“Do I need a lawyer?” Heath asked.
“No. Just wanting to ask a few questions. You’re not a suspect at this time.”
“Then no, I’m fine standing.” Heath wasn’t interested in getting comfortable and drawing out this conversation. He could outstand the older officer by a long shot. “What can I help you with?”
Duke nodded softly, obviously realizing he wasn’t going to be offered a seat and some tea like he would if Molly were home. “First, I wanted to let you know that Ken and Molly are no longer suspects. I was finally able to verify their story with accounts of others in town.”
“Like what?” Heath asked.
“Well, Ken had always maintained he was sick in bed all that day with the flu. I spoke to the family physician and had him pull old records from the archives. Ken did come in the day before to see the doctor. Doc said it was a particularly bad strain of flu that year. Most people were in bed for at least two days. I don’t figure Ken was out in the woods burying a body in the shape he was in.”
“He was sick,” Heath added. “Very sick. Just as we’ve told you before.”
“People tell me a lot of things, Heath. Doesn’t make it true. I’ve got to corroborate it with other statements. We’ve established Ken was sick that day. So, how did that work on the farm? If Ken wasn’t working, did the whole group take the day off?”
“No,” Heath answered with a bit of a chuckle. Sheriff Duke obviously hadn’t grown up on a farm. “Life doesn’t just stop when the boss is feeling poorly. We went on with our chores as usual. Wade picked up a few of the things that Ken normally did. Nothing particularly special about it. That’s what we did whenever anyone was sick.”
