An Irresistible Impulse Read Free Page A

split and the predominance of jurors older than herself. Just one woman appeared to be close in age, perhaps even a year or two younger. This woman’s name she made a point to catch. Patricia. Blond-haired and fair-skinned, Patricia returned both her interest and the half-smile Abby was able to offer before being ushered to a free table.
    Moments later, she found herself seated with her fellow new arrivals and a court officer, a woman who had quietly shifted her place setting to their table from that at which she’d begun the meal.
    “I’m Grace Walsh.” She grinned knowingly. “…Just in case you didn’t catch thename the first time around. I’ll be here with you throughout the trial.”
    “You mean that they don’t give you any time off either?” Tom grunted in a tone just short of sardonic.
    Grace shrugged off the question with a dismissing wave. “Oh, I’ll probably have a morning or afternoon off every now and then, but for the most part…you’re stuck with me.”
    Smiling, Abby took a closer look at this person with whom she was “stuck.” In her late forties, Grace Walsh made a very proper appearance, with her brown hair anchored in a staid bun, her face devoid of makeup, her blue uniform fitting her ample body with just a hint of room to spare. Yet there was no sign of the grim matron in this woman, no clue to suggest that she might next be walking a criminal to and from a prison wagon. Rather, she seemed eminently approachable…so much so that Abby yielded to her own clamoring curiosity.
    “Tell me, Grace,” she began, helplessness written across her features, “how is this all supposed to work? I mean, I know that we’ll be cut off from the outside world. But exactly how far does it go? There are those little Day-to-day things that people do—laundry, phone calls, reading. How much of that will be affected?”
    The kindness with which Grace responded did little to blunt her words. “Everything, I’m afraid. You’ll come into contact with no one but courtroom personnel, your fellow jurors, those of us who’ll be staying with you, and the staff here at the inn.” She shifted her gaze to the waitress who approached bearing a large tray. “This is Katherine Blayne, the Abbotts’ oldest daughter. She lives with her own family back in town, but she’s here helping out every day.” Then she turned to Katherine. “The stew tastes great!”
    The eldest Abbott daughter grinned. “There’s plenty more whenever you’re ready.” Lowering her tray onto a nearby stand, she transferred a basket of bread, a central vegetable dish, and individual salads to the table before returning with a large serving bowl and dishing out hearty helpings of a steaming beef stew. “I hope this is okay for you folks. If any of you have any dietary restrictions, please let us know. We’ll be glad to make substitutions.” Katherine glanced quickly at the table to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and then returned to the kitchen.
    “Hmmmph!” Louise scoffed softly as she eyed the heaping plate before her. “And I was worried about my husband gaining weight…”
    Grace turned to Louise and said cheerfully, “One of the beauties of this place is the opportunity for exercise. There’s a pool out back, but now that the end of September’s here it may be too cool to swim. If any of you run, though, Ray over there”—she quirked her head toward the guard who’d driven the van and now sat at the table she’d left earlier—“would be more than glad to take you. He’s a pro. Enters marathons and all. And the paths around this estate are ideal for running.”
    The thought held major appeal for Abby. She’d been running since she first moved north and discovered that the fresh air—warm in summer, crisp in spring and fall, downright frigid though invigorating in winter—did miracles for the cobwebs that formed periodically in the private corners of her mind.
    “I might just take him up on that,”