Running for Cover Read Free Page B

hard knot in his chest. He cleared his throat, wishing he could clear his mind of the past as easily. “That’s as much as I know. I think the rest of your answers will have to come from Morgan.”
    “All right. Thanks. Are you staying with Jude?”
    “Yes.”
    “Leaving after the wedding tomorrow?”
    “I’d planned to do some fishing and head back to New York Sunday morning.”
    “Then I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, but I’ll want to ask a few more questions before you leave town. How about we meet after the wedding reception?”
    “Sure.” Not that he had a choice in the matter.
    “You have a business card?”
    “In my wallet. Your deputy still has it.”
    “Here you go, Mr. Sharo.” She dropped it into Jackson’s outstretched palm.
    “And my gun?”
    The sheriff nodded, and the deputy returned that to Jackson, as well. That meant he could do exactly what the sheriff had suggested and get back to the wedding gift hunt.
    It was probably what he should do. It was even what he wanted to do, but Jackson knew he couldn’t. Quitting the police force hadn’t changed his desire to serve and protect. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t leave until he was sure Morgan would be all right. “You said you called an ambulance?”
    “Should be here in a few minutes.”
    “A few minutes or an hour, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to the hospital,” Morgan said as she eased out of the squad car, leaving the blanket and coffee cup behind.
    “I think we discussed this already,” the sheriff said. “You need to be checked out at the hospital. We’ve got a victim’s advocatethere who will talk to you and help you through the process.” His tone was implacable, but Morgan didn’t seem to notice.
    “I’m not a victim.” Despite the argumentative tone, her voice trembled, and Jackson wondered how long it would be before her tough facade crumbled and she crumbled with it.
    “Sheriff Reed is right. You need to let the doctors take a look at your injuries.” He put a hand on her shoulder, letting it fall away when she flinched.
    “I don’t need a doctor to tell me I’ve been beaten. And I don’t need a victim’s advocate to tell me it wasn’t my fault.”
    “Then what do you need?”
    Jackson’s question must have surprised her. She met his gaze, her almond-shaped eyes surrounded by thick black lashes that contrasted sharply with light-colored irises. “To go back a decade and say no when my ex-husband asked me to marry him.”
    “You think your ex-husband had something to do with what happened tonight?”
    “Something to do with it? He had everything to do with it. The men who were here were searching for something of Cody’s. A disk. They said Cody told them that I had it. That he’d given it to me before he went to prison.”
    Her ex-husband was in prison?
    And she owned an art gallery in Lakeview, Virginia.
    And her first name was Morgan.
    Surprised, Jackson studied her face. Bruised and swollen, it barely resembled the photo of Morgan Alexandria that he’d seen months ago when Jude Sinclair had asked him to investigate the ex-wife of a man he’d put into prison. Barely resembled but did. Dark black hair. Vivid, silvery-blue eyes. Exotic beauty that had stuck in his mind long after he’d seen the photo. Maybe if he hadn’t been so caught up in escaping his thoughts and his guilt, Jackson would have put two and two together when he’d first arrived at the gallery.
    And maybe he wouldn’t have rung the doorbell.
    Seen Morgan’s battered face.
    A God thing?
    His sister would have said so.
    Maybe, just maybe, Jackson believed it.
    An ambulance pulled into the parking lot, cutting off further conversation.
    “Looks like your ride is here, Morgan,” the sheriff said quietly. “I’m going to check things out around here. Then I’ll come by to see how you’re doing.”
    “Really, Sheriff Reed, I don’t need to go to the hospital. All I need are a few aspirins