Secrets and Seduction: 5 Romance Novels Read Free

shrink would have to say about it.
    Nick approached the deceased’s husband. Brian might not approve, but Nick was curious what the husband had to say. The man was in his mid- to late-thirties and his clothes, although casual, were good quality. The man was doing well, being married into Watkins Glen’s first family.
    “Mr. Wentworth? I’m Nick Stark. I’m helping Deputy Nash interview witnesses. Would you mind taking me back to where the accident happened and walking me through what you saw?”
    Wentworth rubbed his face. “Sure, but is this necessary? She killed herself.”
    “If your wife tripped, you’d want to know that.”
    Scott failed to hide a trace of impatience. “I saw her jump in front of the train. She’d been depressed the last few weeks, since the miscarriage.”
    Nick had lots of experience giving sympathy. “I’m sorry about your baby. How long ago did it happen?”
    As they approached the engine, the blast of heat seared the autumn air around them like an oven. Nick felt the rumble of the running locomotive through his tennis shoes.
    “It was last month,” Scott said. “Carolyn wanted that baby so badly. We’d been trying for two years.”
    Nick noted the wording of Wentworth’s statement, that his wife had wanted the baby, not him. “Was this her first pregnancy?”
    “Yes, and she took losing the baby very hard.”
    Nick knew about the psychological effect of miscarriage on a woman, especially multiple miscarriages, but could a woman become despondent after her first? He made a note on his pad about it.
    “Had your wife been under a doctor’s care?”
    “Yes. She’d been treated for depression.” Wentworth seemed eager to impart this bit of information.
    “Was she taking medication?”
    “Yes.”
    When Wentworth didn’t expand on this answer, Nick probed, “Which one?”
    Wentworth threw up his hands. “I don’t know which one. Does it matter?” He sounded exasperated.
    The man apparently hadn’t been watching the national news where certain antidepressants were linked to an increased risk of suicide. “It might. I’ll need the name of it and her doctor’s name.”
    Scott stopped in his tracks and glared. “Why is that relevant? She’s dead. She killed herself.” He waved toward the train.
    If she killed herself. Nick wrote down the shrink’s name Wentworth provided. As they rounded the front of the engine and crossed the tracks, Nick saw blood traces on the metal. The scarlet showed up clearly on the tan and black locomotive.
    He wished he didn’t have to interview witnesses because he’d rather not be near an accident scene. It made him itch to get back to work where he could actually help people. But he was exiled from his job for another week and he owed Brian. So he and Scott Wentworth walked toward the promenade.
    “You and your wife were coming from the lake?” he asked.
    “Yes. We’d spent the morning sailing. I’d hoped being on the water would cheer her up. We could see the train approaching as we walked toward the tracks. She must have planned to kill herself then.”
    Nick was getting tired of Wentworth repeating those words as though the new widower thought Nick would forget. A woman was dead; he wasn’t likely to forget.
    They’d reached the brick promenade. “You stood where?” Nick asked.
    Scott moved to the center of the walkway. “Here. Carolyn stood on my right and just slightly in front of me.”
    “Was there anyone else here? Or anyone behind you? Any other witnesses?”
    “There were other people, but I didn’t recognize anyone.”
    Nick jotted a note to ask around for witnesses. Civic-minded individuals would stay in the area to give their statements, but not everyone would want to get involved, especially if they were on vacation. And a lot of people vacationed here.
    “How many witnesses were there? Were they men or women?”
    “I don’t know. I wasn’t looking at them.” Scott inhaled and added, “Four or five, maybe,