Bleeding Through: A Rachel Goddard Mystery (Rachel Goddard Mysteries) by Sandra Parshall

shirttail into the jeans, zipped up and buckled his belt. He sat down to pull his boots back on. “You’ve already told her about being shot, and Fagan doesn’t know about any of the other stuff, does he?”
    The other stuff. My life. Even Tom didn’t know all of it. Rachel said, “No, not that I’m aware of.” Unless he’d been digging around in her past for some reason. But Fagan had no reason. Besides, she doubted he was a sharp enough detective to put all the pieces together even if they were laid out in front of him. She had to stop being so paranoid. “You’re right. There’s nothing to worry about. As long as I can avoid him while he’s here, everything will be fine.”
    “Come on.” Tom put an arm around her shoulders, opened the door, and sniffed the aromas rising from the kitchen below. “I’m ready to do serious bodily harm to that chicken.”
    Downstairs, they found that Michelle and Kevin had set the food on the table and filled the water glasses. Rachel was relieved to see that the change in Michelle’s mood was holding, and she was her normal vivacious, chatty self. She would probably knock herself out to charm Tom, and that was fine with Rachel as long as Michelle didn’t overdo it in front of her husband.
    After they’d all taken servings of chicken and vegetables and reached the point where they had to find something to talk about, Michelle turned to Tom with a smile. “I hear you’re running for sheriff. Are you busy making speeches and debating with your opponent?”
    “He doesn’t have an opponent,” Rachel said.
    Tom gave her wry look.
    “Not a serious one, anyway,” Rachel amended. “Just some idiot with no law enforcement experience and a lot of ridiculous opinions. Tom’s already running the department with the sheriff on sick leave. He deserves to have the title and the pay.”
    “Get Rachel to make speeches for you and you’ll be a shoo-in,” Michelle said. “She can be very persuasive.”
    Tom laughed. “Oh, don’t I know it.”
    So far, so good, Rachel thought.
    Then, to her dismay, Michelle said in a suddenly sober voice, “That George Mason law student who disappeared last month was found here, wasn’t she? It was on the TV news in Washington last night.”
    Her question struck everybody dumb for a moment. Tom glanced at Rachel as if hoping for a signal to guide his response. She frowned and shook her head slightly. The last thing Michelle needed now was a lot of talk about a girl who might have been murdered by a stalker.
    “Yeah,” Tom said. “That’s taking up all my time right now, but I can’t really discuss the investigation. Kevin, what kind of law practice do you have? Corporate law, I think Rachel said. Is that right?”
    Rachel trusted Kevin to catch the ball Tom tossed his way and run with it, but before Kevin could answer, Michelle spoke again. “It’s awful. That beautiful young woman—There are so many crazy people in the world, and you never know when one of them will—”
    “Honey,” Kevin said, reaching for Michelle’s hand. “Let’s not talk about that now.”
    She let him take her hand, but it lay limp in his. When she lifted her eyes toward Rachel, they shimmered with tears. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.”
    Was she going to burst into tears? Oh, god, don’t cry. “I’m glad you came,” Rachel said. “We’ll talk about…all that after dinner. Please eat something. You haven’t touched your meal.”
    Michelle nodded and picked up her fork, but she looked as if the last thing she wanted was the food that went into her mouth.
    Kevin seemed determined to keep the conversation afloat at a friendly, superficial level. “So, Tom,” he said, in a jovial tone that sounded painfully forced to Rachel, “is this a working sheep farm you have here?”
    “No, not really.” Tom sounded relaxed, but Rachel caught his quick assessing glance at Michelle. “I don’t have the time for it. I keep