Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel Read Free

drove to St. Louis and took the first flight they had. I just got here about ten minutes ago."
    Gradually, Andi's view of the room expanded.
    Mrs. Harrison, the retired librarian from next door sat across the table, perched on the edge of her seat like a bird ready to snatch a crumb. "Luckily, I remembered your mother's name. Didn't take me long to find the right Martha Denton in Missouri." Her small hazel eyes were bright and intense. “I brought a casserole.”
    Jennie Crawford, Chad’s receptionist, looked stricken. A sprig of blonde hair poked out of her usually perfectly coiffed curls. Her naked lips trembled slightly. She half-stood and pushed a plate of goodies towards Andi, "I made some of my wicked good cinnamon rolls."
    Andi's mother smiled at the younger woman and said, "They are delicious. I have to get the recipe from you."
    "The secret is scalded milk." The blonde's cheeks turned pink as she looked around the table. Her gaze settled on Andi. Her lower lip trembled, then she said, “I can’t believe he’s gone. I’m so sorry.”
    “Thank you,” Andi whispered. The room swam, and she focused on breathing again, one breath at a time. It was the only thing she was confident she could do at that moment in time. Someone slid a cup of coffee in front of her, and she gripped it with both hands to absorb the warmth.
    Carol Graves, one of the local society types who served with Andi on the Friends of the Library Board, cleared her throat and smiled when Andi looked up. Her mouth opened, but then closed without a word when Mrs. Harrison began talking about storm damage from the night before. No one mentioned Chad. What could they say? Martha sat next to Andi and clutched her arm with both hands as if she were an apparition that might disappear into thin air. 
    God, it felt good to be held. Andi missed her mother even more than she'd realized. Gray streaked the older woman’s hair, more than last Christmas. No, Christmas before last. With a start, she realized she hadn't been home in over a year.   Why had she let Chad keep her from going?
    An assortment of pies and casseroles and plates of cookies covered every available flat surface. The aroma of homemade chicken noodle soup mingled with the sweet cinnamon smell of apple dumplings. Comfort food. Her hand dropped to her hip, where all the calories would land.
    She jumped when her cell phone chirped. Everyone's heads swiveled from her to the phone on the counter and back again. No one ever called her, besides Chad. Her mother started to stand, but Andi put her hand out as she pushed away from the table. "I've got it." Her voice sounded small in the big kitchen.
    She glanced at the screen. Anonymous. She hesitated, but swiped the screen.
    The gruff voice on the other end of the line got straight to the point. "Detective Gerald Johnson with the Buccaneer Bay Police Department. Coast Guard is out already. No sign of remains yet."
    She sucked in air and held it for a beat, then shivered as a chill ran down her spine. "You'll let me know?" Until that moment, she hadn't considered that the fall might not have killed him. But the cliff . . . the rocks. Even if he survived the fall, the icy Atlantic would've claimed him quickly. "And what if they don't find him?"
    He took a drink of something, swallowed loudly, then answered, "We'll find him, all right. Don't you worry about that."
    Silence echoed in her ear. Unease curled up in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the screen. Finally, she sat the phone on the counter. She took a deep breath, then turned back to her guests. Everyone stared at her expectantly.
    She struggled for words, then finally murmured, “Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me.” She couldn't do this anymore. Her vision narrowed. Darkness closed in on her, and she fought to maintain focus. No one met her eyes.
    The linen tablecloth needed to be ironed.
    Sunlight reflected in a chip in the red glass vase centered on the table.
    A deli