Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel Read Free Page A

tray sat on the breakfast bar, the plastic wrap pulled back.
    The sun shone brightly through the vertical blinds on the sliding glass door, but wet spots still glistened on the deck.
    A dog barked in the distance.
    And the tunnel began to close.
    Her mother grasped her arms and guided her onto a chair, then herded everyone else out of the room. “Thank you all for coming. We do appreciate it so much, but my daughter needs her rest now.” The hushed tones of conversation drifted out with the small group like a cloud, and finally the two women were alone.
    "I take it that was the police?" The older woman stepped close and rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders, then massaged them gently. “Honey, I don’t know how much you remember . . .”
    Her voice trailed off and she waited. Andi blinked, not sure how much was real and what was the product of her overactive imagination. A chill ran up her spine at the hazy memory of the accident.
    A little voice whispered, it wasn't an accident .
    But that wasn’t true. It was an accident! Her heart threatened to burst. Guilt ate at her gut. For so long, she hid the signs of abuse, ashamed of her weakness, afraid to leave, afraid to be alone. Yet she had been alone, isolated from her friends and family.
    And now she was truly alone.
    Tears filled her eyes and she felt as if she’d been sucker punched. She swiveled to face her mother. “Oh, God, Mama, he’s dead, isn’t he?”
    Martha nodded and Andi leaned back into her plumpness, letting her mother envelop her in a hug. Her mother whispered, "What did the officer say?"
    "He said they're looking for the body." Andi melted into her mother, warm and soft and safe. Real tears began to flow and deep, racking sobs shook her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to stop. Feeling sorry for herself would do no good. Chad had been her husband, her life, but he had also been cruel.
    Andi pushed herself to her feet and turned toward her mother. Martha held her daughter and rocked back and forth. "It's going to be okay."
    Andi sucked in a deep breath. “I--I don’t know what happened--”
    Her mother gently pressed a finger to her daughter’s lips, “Shush, baby. What’s done is done.”
    Andi snapped her head up to look into her mother’s eyes. Did she know? Did she suspect there was more to it than a simple accident? No judgment lived in those big brown eyes, just love. Her mother held her hand sandwiched between hers, and memories of Andi’s childhood tripped over themselves in a rush to the surface. Making peanut butter cookies. Mama’s hands balling the dough, criss-crossing the tops with a fork. The quilt they pieced when she was in high school, made from her favorite childhood clothes.
    That was so long ago. She sniffled. “What am I going to do now? What happens next?”
    "You can always move back home." Martha gently squeezed her daughter’s arm and said, “But first things first. We’ve got to get the arrangements made and then we’ll get through the funeral together.”
    "But there's no body yet." Andi turned away and lifted the coffee cup to her lips, savoring the warmth and bitterness. The liquid burned all the way to her stomach.
    Somehow, she would get through this. She had to. The thought of being alone overwhelmed her. But for right now, all she had to do was hold it together until they found his body, and then get through the funeral. 
    She turned, looked over the lip of her cup at her mother and asked, “Does his mother know?”
    “The police notified her. She called here while you were asleep and I talked to her. Told her we’d call her when the arrangements were made.”
    Andi’s eyebrows arched, “And she was okay with that?”
    Martha harrumphed and stood up, then tugged her simple blue dress down to straighten the wrinkles and said, “Guess she had to be.”
    The corners of Andi’s mouth twitched up as her mother turned away. Mama never had liked the overbearing and snooty Cora