Read Online Miranda's Revenge by Ruth Wind - Free Book Online Page B

look wonderful.”
    Miranda forced a smile. “So do you, as always.” And it was true, she had to admit, but there was a dark stone of resentment or resistance in her as she looked at him. A wisp of a French love song brushed through the hollows of her heart, and she straightened. “How’s your leg?”
    A shadow moved over his mouth. “It is healing, but more slowly than I expected. In truth, I came here to see a physical therapist who is known to help with difficult cases.”
    â€œSo it’s serious?”
    â€œIt could be.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œIt was so foolish,” he said, peering into his coffee. “I was on a yacht and a wave came and I stumbled on the stairs. Twisted my knee.”
    Miranda couldn’t help it—she laughed. “What did you tell the newspapers?”
    His lips curled up in amused acknowledgment. “Training accident.”
    â€œAh.” Miranda wondered how to bring the conversation to Christie without seeming obvious.
    â€œAnd you? You’re here with the runner?”
    Startled, she blinked up at him. “Runner? Oh, James. No. Not at all. He—ah.” She made herself stop. Breathe. “I’m here to see my sisters. They both live here now. Didn’t Christie fill you in?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œShe certainly seemed hostile enough.”
    Max took a slow sip of his coffee, settled the mug before raising his gaze. “It seems you two are on opposite sides of a conflict, but I do not think that is true. One of the reasons I came to Mariposa is that the skiing community is concerned about her. She is a friend. She loved him—the one who was murdered. Claude, is it?”
    â€œRight. My sister’s late husband.”
    â€œYour sister’s marriage was failing, yes?”
    Miranda shrugged. “I have no idea. I was in Europe at the time.”
    His gaze raked her face. “Yes. I remember.”
    â€œAnd philanderers all say their marriages are in trouble.”
    â€œYes, that’s true. Christie is very young, however. Perhaps she thought it was genuine. For all we know, perhaps it was.”
    â€œGenuine? Claude? I doubt it.” She didn’t know how to get more information. Or what to even look for. How did investigators lead without tipping their hands?
    Maybe it was just a matter of conversation. “Doesn’t she usually live in Europe, too?”
    â€œIn Bavaria, which is where we met.”
    Bavaria. Why did that ring a bell? Miranda made a mental note of it. “What was she doing here to start with?”
    â€œTraining. She keeps a home here. How do you say it? A condo. The slopes are particularly good.” He paused. “She met Claude at a hotel bar. He swept her off her feet.”
    Miranda sighed. “I know. I feel sorry for her, but her lack of cooperation with the investigation might end up putting Desi in jail. I love my sister. She’s in love and pregnant and her ex-husband was awful to her. She doesn’t deserve this, either.”
    â€œPerhaps I can speak to her.”
    â€œWill you, Max?”
    He reached over the table, took her hand. “Will you give me another chance?”
    She pulled her hand from beneath his as hastily as if he were on fire. “No.”
    â€œI was a fool, Miranda. You frightened me. The fire frightened me. Haven’t you thought of us since then?”
    She stared at him so hard he bowed his head. Sunlight danced in the wheat thickness of his hair and a memory—quickly shoved away—trailed over her vision. Laughing on a Mediterranean beach, with the sound of a dozen languages in the air—
    So romantic! It had all been so romantic. Had she been in love with Max, or with the pleasure of the story they could tell, the way her love affair could embroider her life.
    Either way, he’d been cold in the way he’d cut it off. Her heart had been broken, and it didn’t really