by MJ Rodgers
“You don’t think they’d do it anyway for revenge?”
“They’re about profit—not revenge. Still, A.J. has placed a twenty-four-hour guard on Miller as a precaution. You don’t have to worry, Whitney.”
She smiled at him. “With you in charge, how could I worry?”
But the moment he pulled in front of his house, Adam watched Whitney’s smile flee as she saw Sergeant Ryson and Detective Ferkel approach the car. With all the positive things that had happened today, he had forgotten this final business still hanging over his head.
“What is it you want, Sergeant?” Adam asked coolly as he circled around the Jaguar to open the door for Whitney.
“Inside, if you don’t mind, Justice,” Ryson said in his typical sour tone.
Adam led the way inside his house and closed the door behind them all. He turned to face Ryson. “Well?”
“The FBI’s forensic report came back this afternoon, Justice. There’s no use denying it. We know you were at that wreck of Peter Danner’s car.”
Adam knew Ryson was looking for some change in his expression. He made sure there was none. “And why would you think that, Sergeant?”
Ryson held up the thick golden chain with the cross dangling off its end. “Recognize this?”
“Patrice gave it to me on our first wedding anniversary,” Adam said calmly.
“It was in the wreck. There are traces of blood on it. Not Danner’s blood. Not your wife’s.”
“She was not my wife, Sergeant.”
“It’s your blood, isn’t it, Justice? You were there, weren’t you?”
Adam felt Whitney’s hand grab his arm and knew she was afraid for him. But he was not afraid. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he’d learned he was not responsible for Peter’s and Patrice’s deaths. He placed his hand reassuringly over hers.
“Have you determined how the accident happened?” Adam asked calmly.
The moment Adam saw the unhappy look descending on Ryson’s face, he knew he was about to hear some good news.
“The rack-and-pinion gear failed,” Ferkel said. “FBI lab sent back pictures. They say it was a manufacturing defect. When it sheared, Danner was unable to steer and lost control of the car.”
Finally the truth after all these years.
Adam took the chain and cross out of Ryson’s hand. “I appreciate your returning my property to me. I also want her picture back.”
Ryson signaled to Ferkel, who produced the picture and handed it to Adam.
“You’re damn lucky I couldn’t match that scribbling on the back with a route to the car wreck,” Ryson said.
Adam walked over to the door and held it open for the two detectives in a clear signal that it was time for them to leave.
“You were there, Justice,” Ryson said as he filed past. “I know it.”
“Goodbye, Sergeant. Detective.”
As soon as Adam had closed the door behind them, he found Whitney throwing her arms around him and hugging him hard.
“Thank God that’s over, Adam.”
He hugged her tightly, loving the passionate exuberance of her response. Then, gently, he extricated her from his arms.
“I still have one last thing to do.”
She followed him into the study and watched him light the match to the bottom of Patrice’s picture. As the flame caught, he threw it into the fireplace.
“Why do I think burning her picture has less to do with a symbolic gesture than it does with getting rid of that map at the bottom of her note?” Whitney asked.
Adam smiled at her but said nothing.
“Octavia Osborne was your only partner at Justice Inc. seven years ago,” Whitney said. “She drew that map, didn’t she? She was the friend with you that day, the one who called the Native American chief who described a shortcut through his tribal lands. That map is the shortcut. That’s why Ryson couldn’t match it to a route on a regular map.”
Adam wrapped his arms around Whitney as he watched the final ashes from Patrice’s picture fly up the chimney.
“It’s all in the past now, Whitney.”
She turned in his arms to look up at his face. “Is it, Adam?”
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “You once asked me what emotion still tied me to Patrice. It was guilt, Whitney—a mountain of it. I had given her everything I had, everything I was, and still she left me for Danner. I thought I had let her down as a husband. I thought I had been the cause of her death when Peter’s car went off that cliff.”
“And now, Adam?”
“The guilt’s gone, Whitney. I know the truth now.”
“And what is the truth, Adam?”
“Their deaths were an accident. I did not fail Patrice as a husband. She failed me as a wife. At the heart of love is honesty and loyalty. There was no heart in Patrice’s love.”
“Has Patrice spoiled it for you, Adam?”
He pulled slightly away from her and looked at her with cool blue eyes. “Spoiled what?”
“Love and…marriage. I’ll understand if you say yes.”
He smiled. “And will you understand when I say no?”
The meaning in his answer—the sudden warmth in his eyes and voice—all swelled inside Whitney’s heart.
“Now I have a question for you, Ms. West,” he said in his most formal tone. “Why did you lie to me?”
His changing demeanor and accusation stunned her. “Lie to you? About what?”
“About having a tattoo. You have none. I made a very thorough search of that lovely body of yours.”
“Oh, that,” she said, laughing with relief. “It was one of those temporary, stick-on ones. It wore off ages ago.”
“Are you telling me you deliberately deceived me into believing you had a tattoo in order to try to elicit information? Ms. West, you are a very unscrupulous and devious woman.”
“Thank you, Mr. Justice.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
She laughed. “I know. I love you, Adam, so much I can’t ever remember when I didn’t.”
He hugged her to him possessively, as though he would never let her go.
“I think I fell in love with you the moment you started to jaywalk across that busy intersection and tried to get us both killed.”
She laughed against his ear, then leaned back to look again at his face. The sincere blue of his eyes trapped the breath in her body, hushing it with joy. His deep, beautiful voice resonated in her soul.
“I love you, Whitney. You’ve brought color back into my black-and-white world—beautiful, vibrant hues of endless possibilities that I began to see the first moment I looked into the golden lights dancing in your eyes. I’m offering you everything I have, everything I am. Is it what you want?”
“Oh, yes, Adam,” she said, tears of happiness stinging her eyes. “Just what I want.”
He took her lips with his, and she felt the deep pledge of his love in his kiss…loyal and true…and good for a lifetime.
eISBN 9781-45927-591-1
TO HAVE VS. TO HOLD
Copyright © 1996 by Mary Johnson
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Table of Contents
Cover Page
Table of Contents
Praise
Dear Reader
Dedication
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Copyright
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Table of Contents
Praise
Dear Reader
Dedication
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Copyright
