Read Online You Don't Want To Know by Lisa Jackson - Free Book Online Page B

been a full-blown bitch the last couple of days, always suspicious as hell, always second-guessing his motives. And he, too, was tense. Well, who could blame him? Their fight today was indicative of the state of their marriage. Maybe she should try to start over . . . if it wasn’t too late.
    Casting a glance at the stable again, she thought about the new man Wyatt hired and told herself to trust that her husband had picked the right man for the job.
    She walked swiftly down the back steps to the curving drive and through the massive open gates to the road leading into town. Monroe was less than half a mile down the hill, built upon the shore where the bay fingered a little inland, and Ava figured the walk would help clear her head and keep her focused.
    Without meds.
    Hopefully the fresh air and exercise, not to mention getting out of that prison of a house, would help dispel the headache that seemed to be constantly lurking inside her brain, ready to rage at any moment.
    She slid a pair of sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose and kept to the side of the road where the gravel-covered sparse moss and weeds hadn’t quite died with the coming of winter. The air was brisk, the scent of the sea strong as the sun peeked from behind thick, billowing clouds. Farther west, out to sea, a fog bank seemed to hover, as if waiting for a starting bell or some other indication to roll inland. For now, though, the day was clear, the sunlight warm against her skin despite the breath of autumn.
    Once in the tiny burg of Monroe, she found her way to the marina and passed boats where fishermen were sorting their catches or cleaning their hulls or fiddling with the engines of their moored crafts.
    Moored near the end of one pier was the Holy Terror , a walkaround-type fishing boat. Butch Johansen was seated at the helm of his small craft, perusing a newspaper. A ratty baseball cap hid the fact that he was prematurely bald, and a cigarette dangled from his lips. He wore a down vest over a sweatshirt, jeans that had seen better days, and half a week’s growth of dark beard.
    He glanced up as Ava’s shadow fell across him.
    Squinting against the sun and smoke from his slowly burning filter tip, he said, “Hey, little sister!” a name he’d tagged her with years ago when she had followed her brother and his best friend along the sheep and deer trails of the island. Most of the time they’d tried to ditch her; most of the time they’d failed. “What the hell are you doin’? I heard you half drowned last night after you went in for a quick little midnight dip.”
    â€œIs that what you heard?” She would have bristled, but this was Butch, Kelvin’s best friend, someone she’d known for as long as she could remember. He was forever teasing her, and he found the fact that so many people she knew thought she was crazy somewhat amusing.
    â€œClose enough.”
    â€œBad news travels fast.”
    â€œIn a town this size, any news travels at the speed of light.”
    â€œSpeaking of which, think you could streak me across the bay?”
    â€œHot date?”
    â€œI’m a married woman, remember.”
    Butch tossed his cigarette into the water. “If that’s what you call it.” When she was about to protest, he lifted a hand to stop her, then added, “Okay, okay, I was outta line. It’s just that Wyatt and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye.”
    â€œIs there anyone you do? See eye-to-eye with, that is?”
    His thick eyebrows converged beneath the frayed edges of his baseball cap. “Guess not. At least not since Kelvin.” Untying the lines holding the Holy Terror against the dock, he added, “Your brother was one of a kind.”
    She felt a pang of regret. “Yeah, I know.” Kelvin’s death was difficult to think about, a painful wound that had never quite healed. Though it had been over four years since that horrid night, it was