She sat straight up, setting her glass on the table, and Mark froze, thinking she meant to lean over to him, to initiate the lovemaking he was aching to have with her.
His body throbbed. Grew. And she sat with her back half facing him, her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped.
“I want that, too, Mark. So badly I shake with it, but...”
He sat forward, as well, covering her hand with his. “The time’s not right,” he said, “I know.”
Turning her head, she gazed at him, her eyes filled with need—and a curious sadness, too.
“When we make love—note the when, not if—it will be when it’s just you and me focused on you and me.” He told her what he’d realized on the drive home that night. “Both of our lives are in flux. We’re adjusting to major changes, major moves.”
The words sounded better in his head.
But he meant them.
Even as a part of him hoped she’d talk him out of waiting.
* * *
ADDY COULDN’T DO it anymore. She couldn’t let Adele have Mark. And she couldn’t tell him about Adrianna.
She took a sip of wine. “I’m moving back to Colorado.” There just wasn’t any other choice.
“Now?”
“Soon.”
His dismay was written all over his face. And hurt her more than he’d ever know.
“How soon?”
Turning her hand over, she threaded her fingers through his, knowing that this was probably the last time she’d ever touch him. “Before the end of the semester. I...I can’t justify the expense of being here when I know I’m not staying—I miss the city too much.” Lies. Lies. Lies. And then...truth. “I want you to know that I care for you more than I’ve ever cared for anyone in my entire life,” she said, and looked him straight in the eye. And then she did what she promised herself she wasn’t going to do. “If—when I go home—you want to come to Colorado, even just for a weekend, I want you there. Please know that.” Just in case, when he found out who she was, he still wanted to see her.
“Okay.”
“Will you think about it?”
“Coming to visit?”
“Or more. When you finish school.” She was killing herself. Dangling hope when it wasn’t the smart thing to do.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Promise?” Let it go, Adrianna. Let him go.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.” He was just kind of there. Not pulling away, but not engaging, either. “I can’t promise what I don’t know.”
“I...I’d just like to think that sometime in the future, there will be a future for us.”
“I’d like that, too.”
She had no idea what the words meant, but they felt good, just the same.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHE HAD TO GET OUT. Addy was at a breaking point and she knew it.
She was in love with Mark. Adrianna Keller, a woman he didn’t even know existed, was in love with him.
She might have been able to carry off sex without commitment but she couldn’t make love with duplicity.
And still...she needed Mark’s arms around her—needed to feel complete as only his body melding with hers could make her complete.
She needed him to be in love with her.
He didn’t even know who she was.
And when he found out...
Would he even give her a chance to explain? Mark, who prized honesty above all else, would feel as though she’d betrayed him. And she couldn’t blame him.
After spending a miserable Tuesday fighting with herself, she moved through the duplex Wednesday morning as if on autopilot. She’d missed class but hadn’t seen that there was any reason for her to attend.
Two of her four suitcases were packed with the winter clothes she’d brought just in case she’d be staying through Shelter Valley’s cooler season. She’d brought in the plastic bins from the storage shed assigned to her unit on the side of the building and put them in the spare bedroom. They’d hold the linens, toiletries and kitchen utensils she’d brought with her.
If Mark did let her explain, would he even like Adrianna? He’d befriended a woman in his same position—a first-year college student living in a rented duplex—not a juris doctorate graduate with her own law practice and a home in a nice neighborhood in one of the country’s premier cities.
She cleaned and packed and planned, and waited for Greg Richards to contact her. With a prepaid cell phone she’d called his number and hung up twice in a row—their prearranged signal to let him know that she needed to speak with him.
He’d find a way to get in touch with her without compromising her cover. If she’d had an emergency, her cover be damned; she’d dial 9-1-1.
She noticed the sheriff’s car in front of their house at a little past ten. And again a second time just after eleven. Figuring that he wanted her to drive outside of town again, she grabbed her keys and her purse, slipping her folder for Greg inside an oversize bag, stepped into her sandals and headed out.
“Psst.” Nonnie’s front door was open, leaving only the screen between her and the outside world. The older woman was sitting at the computer not far inside.
Addy couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard her. “Did you need something?” she asked, peering through the screen door.
“You missed class.”
“Yes, I had some things to do here.”
“You sure you’re not sick? I made some chicken soup. I was planning to call in about half an hour ’case you was sleeping.”
An eighty-one-year-old woman with a debilitating disease had made her chicken soup because she thought she was sick. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away.
“I’m not sick,” she said. “But I would love some chicken soup. I’ve got an errand to run—can I stop in when I return?”
“Sure you can.” Nonnie turned back to the computer. “Did you sleep with him?”
She already had her back to the door. Almost didn’t turn around. But she suspected she’d just hear the question again when she came back for soup. Preferring a screen door between them, she simply said, “No,” and hurried down the steps.
* * *
MARK WAITED FOR Addy outside the science building again. Waited so long he was almost late for his second class. Between his second and third class, he remembered that he hadn’t mentioned Thursday night with Abe to her and gave her a call.
She didn’t answer.
And when he stopped in at home between school and work, Nonnie told him that Addy hadn’t been back for her soup, either.
* * *
ADDY DROVE BY the sheriff’s office on her way out of town. She hadn’t been on the road ten minutes when he passed her. She followed him, and he led them past the cactus jelly plant where Mark worked to a turnoff on state park land. Pulling in, he stopped his car and came back to her.
Rolling down her window, Addy frowned up at him—partially because the sun was in her eyes and partially because she was just plain not in a good mood.
“Sorry for the all the clandestine hoops we’re jumping through here, but until I know for sure what’s going on I don’t want to take any chances.”
“It’s okay,” Addy said, understanding Greg’s concern.
“You want to get in, Sheriff?” she asked, motioning to her passenger seat.
Maintaining his stance leaning over her car door, he shook his head. “I apologize for my para
noia, but I want this to look like an ordinary stop. I’m guessing Will didn’t tell you about my dad.”
The question came seemingly from nowhere.
“No, he didn’t,” she said, needing to hand off the folder in her bag and deliver the rest of her message. She needed to leave town as soon as they thought they could be done with her services. Sooner if possible. She’d been in class over a month, had poked all over campus and had found nothing untoward. Not in class, extra-curricular programs, campus housing, campus work studies, or even in eavesdropping at the student center.
Almost unanimously, students at Montford appeared to love Montford.
She wasn’t surprised.
And she felt confident that she could do the remaining research from her home in Colorado.
Greg had been speaking about his father having been on his way someplace.
“He was carjacked,” she heard him say.
Her heart lurched and the sheriff had her full focus as he should have had all along. “Where?”
“Not five miles from here,” he said. “He’d been on the freeway...” The sheriff broke off then.
“Was he hurt?”
Sheriff Richards nodded. “He lived another nine years, but only with assisted care. He never resumed any kind of a life. It took me that long to find out who’d killed him. Turns out it was kids—part of a gang initiation. It involved the little brother of a member of the sheriff’s department in Shelter Valley. He covered for him. This was a man I trusted with my life.”
“So you don’t put anything past anyone.” Which made her feel better about what she had to tell the sheriff about Will Parsons.
“People do what they have to do given the situations handed to them,” he said. “I have no idea who is behind the threats to Will, but I don’t count anyone out, either.”
“I understand.”
She could turn over the file and be done here. Get back to Nonnie and her soup and packing. Back to avoiding the man who could very well have been the love of her life until she could get safely out of town.
People do what they have to do given the situations handed to them, Greg had said. “That sheriff or deputy who was responsible for covering up the crime that eventually took your father’s life...did you hate him when you finally discovered what he had done?”
“Hard to hate a guy who was looking out for a kid brother who’d been sucked into a gang against his will,” Richards said.
“But wrong is wrong.”
“Yes. And there are mitigating circumstances.”
True. “Mitigators can lessen sentences, but they don’t suspend guilty verdicts.”
“They might not suspend guilty verdicts in court,” Greg Richards said, standing up straight and peering down at her. “But I know for a fact that they have been used to prevent charges from being filed in the first place.”
They were. She couldn’t deny his claim.
“So, as a cop, you think it’s okay for someone to do something wrong if they do it for the right reasons?”
He frowned, assessing her for a full minute before he answered her. “The question you asked is irrelevant to me,” he said slowly. “You seem to want there to be a clear line between right and wrong in all matters.”
“Isn’t there?”
“You surprise me, counselor. You’re making law the only factor in life and we all know that the human element carries as much or more weight than the law does. A person’s reason for doing what he does is sometimes as important as what he does.”
He had her full attention. Because she needed the absolution he seemed to be offering.
Was it possible that Mark would apply Sheriff Richards’s leniency to her when he learned why she’d been lying to him from the moment she met him?
“Self-defense in court is based largely on motive,” she agreed. “I uncovered some questionable circumstances involving Will Parsons,” she told the man.
“Tell me.”
“I already told you about Tory Evans.”
“Yes. I’ve been following every angle I can think of regarding that incident but so far nothing has clicked.”
“It could be something as simple as someone having read the article, seen the potential for a lawsuit and trying to get rich quick.”
“Of course there’s that possibility. And if that’s the case, there might not be much any of us can do until an actual attempt at extortion is made. What else have you found?”
“Will hired Matt Sheffield in spite of the man’s prior criminal history.”
“Matt told Will about his past. When in possession of the full facts, Will didn’t deem the man’s past a threat to Montford or his students.”
“Yet, within a month of starting at Montford, the man had impregnated one of Montford’s professors.
“He also had an accusation of sexual impropriety made against him by one of his students.” There’d been nothing further in the file except that the charge had been dismissed.
“An internal investigation was conducted and the student, who had an eating disorder and was looking for validation of her physical attributes, admitted to her problem and got help,” Greg said. “She’s married now to an attorney and they have a child together.”
She wanted to hear this. Needed to hear it. And yet, her lawyer’s mind couldn’t ignore facts.
“But what about the initial charges against Sheffield? He was convicted, did prison time.”
“The victim is now in prison. She admitted to falsely accusing Sheffield.”
“And is still in prison for that?”
“No, she’s in prison for abducting Sheffield’s son after her own son was killed.”
“The type of student that teachers fear,” Addy said, fully understanding now. Just because she was an educational attorney who fought for the rights of students didn’t mean that she wasn’t aware of cases where the students were in the wrong. “A child who is mentally off, but still a child, and thus deserving of empathy and compassion.” She told the sheriff about her failed attempt to get the drama adviser to show any sexual interest in her.
Another potential strike against Will had been erased. Or, at the very least, was arguable enough in a court of law that it would be tossed out the window if anyone tried to bring him up on charges.
“Just FYI, Sheffield sent the girl in question a check every single month from the time he got out of prison until she abducted his child and went to prison herself.”
“Guilt money?”
“Absolutely not. Strictly compassion. The girl came from a rotten home and really showed potential. Sheffield believed in her right up until she threatened his wife and children. He’s a great guy. I hope you get a chance to get to know him while you’re here in town.” She nodded, but she had to get to the point of why she’d summoned him. “I’d like to leave town, actually,” she told the sheriff. “But we’ll get to that in a second. We’ve got another problem.”
“What? Or should I say, who?”
“Randi Parsons Foster.”
“Will’s sister?”
“Ten years ago, she awarded a full scholarship to Susan Farley after the semester had started and after all scholarship funds had already been allocated.” Pulling the file she’d brought for him out of her bag and handing it over, she said, “Here is a list of names of female athletes who’d applied for scholarships that year but were turned down due to lack of funds. Any of them could claim discrimination or unfair advantage,
most especially considering that Susan Farley has now moved on to such fame and success, which could certainly be attributed at least in part to her Montford education and connections. That’s where the external economic value inherent in a Montford education actually hurts the institution. It makes the institution—and Will—a target for lawsuits.”
“Do the records show where Randi got the money?”
Addy shook her head. “It came from a private source.” She told him about her subterfuge and Randi’s potential offer of a scholarship resulting from her bogus request, based on her “sister’s” academic records.
“At least tell me Susan Farley met Montford’s entrance qualifications.”
“I don’t know that yet. In a court of law it won’t just be a matter of whether or not Montford found her acceptable. I have to research the types of test scores they use, assess the testing agencies, look for case law involving any of them.”
The type of work she could do from Colorado. Work that would really only come into play if they went to court—for Will’s defense—which could be completed at a later date.
“Let me know when you have some answers.”
She nodded. “I found something else odd,” she continued. “I came across a student who’s here on full scholarship, but there’s no record of an application. I befriended the applicant, got friendly enough to ask about his scholarship and he claims that the award just showed up in his mailbox. Prior to that, he’d had no intention of attending college anywhere. I looked up his tuition and it says it was paid with cash.”
With a dry throat, Addy gave the sheriff Mark’s name. “I’ll ask Will what he knows about this,” Greg said.
“I’m worried about something else, with Randi. There were budget changes, requested by her, that pulled funds from men’s athletics and gave them to women’s athletics, the end result of which netted the university little change in the amount of money women’s athletics brought in, and diminished the men’s athletics monetary contributions by thousands.”
“I’m assuming Will approved the budget changes?”
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