Marla let out her breath, hoping beyond hope that no one was looking for her, that she find a means of escape before she was missed.
Slow as death, the minutes ticked by and Marla waited, mentally counting off a quarter of an hour before finally easing her way out of her hiding spot, stepping carefully onto the carpet and edging through the dimness toward the small crack of light filtering under the door.
She reached for the light switch and ever so gently flipped it up. The closet was suddenly awash with bright, intense light. Squinting, she found the jacket Eugenia had recently shed and reached into the right-hand pocket. Her fingers touched cool, notched metal—keys. Thank God. Carefully, so that the metal wouldn’t chink, she extracted a keyring.
So far, so good.
She stuffed her prize into the front pocket of her jeans.
Now . . . if she could make it past her mother-in-law without waking her.
If she’s asleep and not sitting on a chair or her bed and flipping through a magazine or knitting.
But there was no sound of pages turning or needles clicking. Marla had to take a chance. Otherwise she was trapped.
After turning off the light, she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and turned. The lock clicked softly.
It’s now or never she thought and inched the door open. Eugenia’s bedroom was semidark, the shades drawn, the soft sound of snoring coming from the bed where thick covers were drawn to the older woman’s neck. Sending up a silent prayer that the stupid dog was nowhere about, Marla hurried across the room, reached for the door and quickly, silently opened it.
Her mother-in-law snorted and Marla slipped into the hallway where she closed the door and dashed up the stairs, nearly tripping over Coco in the process. With a yip, Coco scurried down the stairs, tail between her short legs, then darted into the family room. “Good riddance,” Marla whispered. Eugenia’s keyring was burning a hold in her pocket and she wanted to try the door to the office immediately, open it if she could, then replace the keys, but as she reached the landing on the next floor, the doorbell chimed loudly.
Damn. She checked her watch and waited as Carmen answered. A woman’s voice echoed up the stairs.
“I’m Cherise Favier. I don’t think I’ve met you before. I’m here to see Marla.”
Marla’s heart sank. By the time the visit was over, Eugenia would be up and searching for her keys. Her only hope was to get rid of Alex’s cousin quickly, before anyone disturbed her mother-in-law, then hurry back upstairs. Turning quickly, Marla made her way down to the foyer where Cherise was unwrapping a leopard-trimmed cape and handing it to Carmen.
“Marla!” Cherise exclaimed, then her expression changed from delight to confusion. “You—you look fabulous!” A lie. Marla had seen her reflection less than an hour earlier. “I’ve been dying to see you.” The blond woman clasped Marla’s hand with both of hers and forced a smile that threatened to crack her perfect makeup. “We . . . Donald and I have been so-o-o worried about you.” She glanced over her shoulder to the front door. “He’ll be in shortly,” she said slightly nervous. “He got a call—an emergency of some sort—on his cell phone just as we drove up.”
At that moment a tall, strapping man appeared in the doorway. His brown hair was thick, curly and starting to show a few strands of gray. His shoulders were broad, stretching a black leather jacket that was tossed over a black shirt and at odds with a startling white clerical collar.
“Donal
d, you remember Marla,” Cherise said.
“Of course I do.” Donald flashed a thousand-watt smile that showed off white, fat teeth and a few gold crowns. His face was tanned, lined and warm. Half-glasses covered the bridge of a nose that had been broken more than once from the looks of it. In one hand he carried a well-worn Bible. With his free hand, he surrounded Marla’s shoulders as he gave her a hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said, and dropped a kiss familiarly onto her forehead. “Thank the Lord that you’re all right. My, that was nasty business that landed you back at the hospital the other night.”
Cherise beamed up at her handsome husband. “Amen.”
“I didn’t go to the hospital.”
“Oh, clinic, whatever,” he said waving the hand with his Bible. Marla eased out of his embrace. It was too familiar, too intimate, too forced. “You gave us all quite a scare, you know. Well, a couple of them.”
“The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” Marla quipped back and Cherise’s smile froze. The Reverend Donald’s eyebrows quirked at her joke, but she didn’t really care.
“Why don’t you come into the sitting room where we can talk?” Marla began ushering them into the sitting room where they all settled into chairs and Carmen, as if on cue, carried in a tray with a coffee service, tea pot and basket of scones. “Mrs. Eugenia mentioned that you would be having guests,” she explained, pouring three cups. “She’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Marla’s heart dropped. If her mother-in-law was up, she couldn’t very well unlock the office and start going through Alex’s computer files and desk.
“You probably heard from Alex and Nick that I’ve been trying to reach you,” Cherise said. Seated on a small sofa near her husband, she added sugar substitute to her cup, then adjusted the hem of her short black sweater. She was a pretty woman, beginning to age, with blond hair, pale skin and red-tinged lips that matched her fingernails.
“Nick mentioned that you called.”
“I was crazy to know if you were okay and then Alex blocked us from the hospital—” Cherise caught a look from her husband and snapped her mouth shut.
Donald settled back on the cushions, as if he intended to stay. Maybe even read scripture. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.”