No. I was in a hospital, and then I was . . .” Grief-stricken . . . sick with guilt and failure and pure misery. She had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from going into that abyss again, the one that was always waiting for her. She waited till the tide receded a bit, then managed to say in a nearly normal voice, “Nothing was the same. They were gone and I didn’t care how it happened. All that mattered was they were no longer with me.”
Callie squeezed her hands tightly together, damn near cutting off the blood flow. It was an effort to get herself to loosen her grip.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he meant it.
No, she thought. Don’t be nice to me. Don’t act like you care. She could manage if people weren’t nice to her, but if they were she lost all of her defenses. And she couldn’t afford to break down completely like she had when the realization had crashed down on her. She’d been a blithering idiot. Completely undone. And she’d ended up hiding from reality for a while.
“I was just wondering who checked out the crash.”
“I don’t know. LAPD . . . you probably have a better idea than I do.”
“Your husband chose Martinique for your honeymoon?” he asked.
“We chose it together.”
But had they? Callie remembered the brochures Jonathan had brought from the travel agency, and the way they’d bent their heads over the Internet together, planning for their future. Callie had been too happy to pay much attention to honeymoon plans. There was a wedding to plan, and even though they’d kept it small—both of them had definitely wanted that—it had required the requisite organization, list making, phone calling and e-mailing. She hadn’t questioned Jonathan’s choice of Martinique, but now she wondered.
The reason she’d come back here was more because Sean had been conceived on their honeymoon, not because the trip itself had been such a fabulous time. She recalled distinctly how Jonathan would wander away from her and she would find him in the hotel bar, passing the time with the bartender and waitstaff. Yes, he made love to her and they had dinners together, but she’d sun-bathed alone a lot of the time, and she’d felt the first twinges of worry that she didn’t know her new husband at all.
Jonathan Cantrell had swept her off her feet, and she’d been flattered and overwhelmed by his good looks and wealth. She’d wanted so much to believe that he truly wanted her that she’d shut down her radar and fallen in love with him hard and fast. Or at least that’s what she’d told herself after Bryan left her.
Looking for love in all the wrong places.
Sean was the only reason she hadn’t left Jonathan in the years after the marriage. Jonathan didn’t love her, maybe hadn’t ever, and she kinda thought she’d made herself believe she was in love with him. In truth, neither of them had known each other very well.
“Jonathan and I honeymooned here.” She swept an arm to encompass the grounds.
“At the Bakoua Beach?”
“Yep.”
She wondered what time it was. Early afternoon, maybe two? It was time she got away from him. “Your turn,” she said. “You were let go for breaking up with your captain’s daughter.”
“Not the official reason,” he reminded.
“What was the official reason?”
“Captain Paulsen said I was too aggressive during an investigation.”
Her eyes moved to the small smear of dried blood on her leg. “Imagine that.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered what it was, it was just to punish me. But then Victoria laid down a convincing case and I didn’t give a damn about anything but finding Teresa and Tucker.”
“You said something new came to light.”
“Yeah, well . . .” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he said, “Teresa barely stuck around long enough to make Stephen’s funeral before she took Tucker away. Victoria always blamed her, but it was all conjecture. Everyone thought my grandmother was old and
Callie squeezed her hands tightly together, damn near cutting off the blood flow. It was an effort to get herself to loosen her grip.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he meant it.
No, she thought. Don’t be nice to me. Don’t act like you care. She could manage if people weren’t nice to her, but if they were she lost all of her defenses. And she couldn’t afford to break down completely like she had when the realization had crashed down on her. She’d been a blithering idiot. Completely undone. And she’d ended up hiding from reality for a while.
“I was just wondering who checked out the crash.”
“I don’t know. LAPD . . . you probably have a better idea than I do.”
“Your husband chose Martinique for your honeymoon?” he asked.
“We chose it together.”
But had they? Callie remembered the brochures Jonathan had brought from the travel agency, and the way they’d bent their heads over the Internet together, planning for their future. Callie had been too happy to pay much attention to honeymoon plans. There was a wedding to plan, and even though they’d kept it small—both of them had definitely wanted that—it had required the requisite organization, list making, phone calling and e-mailing. She hadn’t questioned Jonathan’s choice of Martinique, but now she wondered.
The reason she’d come back here was more because Sean had been conceived on their honeymoon, not because the trip itself had been such a fabulous time. She recalled distinctly how Jonathan would wander away from her and she would find him in the hotel bar, passing the time with the bartender and waitstaff. Yes, he made love to her and they had dinners together, but she’d sun-bathed alone a lot of the time, and she’d felt the first twinges of worry that she didn’t know her new husband at all.
Jonathan Cantrell had swept her off her feet, and she’d been flattered and overwhelmed by his good looks and wealth. She’d wanted so much to believe that he truly wanted her that she’d shut down her radar and fallen in love with him hard and fast. Or at least that’s what she’d told herself after Bryan left her.
Looking for love in all the wrong places.
Sean was the only reason she hadn’t left Jonathan in the years after the marriage. Jonathan didn’t love her, maybe hadn’t ever, and she kinda thought she’d made herself believe she was in love with him. In truth, neither of them had known each other very well.
“Jonathan and I honeymooned here.” She swept an arm to encompass the grounds.
“At the Bakoua Beach?”
“Yep.”
She wondered what time it was. Early afternoon, maybe two? It was time she got away from him. “Your turn,” she said. “You were let go for breaking up with your captain’s daughter.”
“Not the official reason,” he reminded.
“What was the official reason?”
“Captain Paulsen said I was too aggressive during an investigation.”
Her eyes moved to the small smear of dried blood on her leg. “Imagine that.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered what it was, it was just to punish me. But then Victoria laid down a convincing case and I didn’t give a damn about anything but finding Teresa and Tucker.”
“You said something new came to light.”
“Yeah, well . . .” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he said, “Teresa barely stuck around long enough to make Stephen’s funeral before she took Tucker away. Victoria always blamed her, but it was all conjecture. Everyone thought my grandmother was old and
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