Imposter by William W. Johnstone

just as Frank was stubbing out his cigarette, Doc Evans stepped out of his office. His hands were clenched into fists and his face was tight with barely controlled rage. “I need a drink,” he said, anger thickening his voice. “But it will have to wait. I saw what John Whitter did to Lara.”
    â€œFine man, isn’t he?”
    â€œThe bastard needs to be horsewhipped.”
    â€œI will certainly go along with that. Did she tell you what she wants to do?”
    â€œLeave him? Yes. Where do you come into this . . . mess?”
    â€œI’ll put her in the hotel. I’ll pick up the tab for it. I can afford it.”
    â€œI’m sure of that. She needs clothing and other women’s things.”
    â€œThen we’ll go to her house and get them.”
    â€œNow?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThe town’s wagging tongues will love this.”
    â€œHell with them.”
    Doc Evans stood beside Frank for a moment, neither man speaking. The doctor finally broke the silence. “You want me to go with you, Frank?”
    â€œI would appreciate it. That would sure still a lot of the town’s gossips.”
    â€œAll right. Let me get my coat.”
    At the Whitter house, at the end of a quiet street, the trio halted. Lara said, “I saw the curtains move. John always sits by the front window. He knows we’re out here.”
    â€œYou want to wait until he steps out onto the porch?” Frank asked.
    â€œNo. Because he won’t. He’ll wait to see if you and Dr. Evans go away.”
    â€œThen he suspects you’ve told someone about his beating you?” Doc Evans asked.
    â€œProbably. I wasn’t home to fix his supper, so he knows something is wrong. I’m sure he was all set to beat me for not being home when he got here.”
    Doc Evans muttered some very uncomplimentary things under his breath about men who beat women.
    â€œHe wants his supper on the table when he gets home,” Lara continued. “And he gets upset when it isn’t.”
    â€œYour boy?” Doc Evans asked.
    â€œHe asked my permission to spend the night with the Carter boy. I told him he could. But if he didn’t get out of the house before John got home . . .” She shrugged. “He’s probably in the house.”
    â€œI hate that,” Frank said.
    â€œHe’s seen his father beat me before,” Lara admitted. “I’m afraid he thinks that’s what all men do.”
    â€œI hate that even worse,” Doc Evans said. “For what you said, Lara, is probably true concerning the boy.”
    â€œLet’s do it,” Frank said, stepping ahead of Lara and the doctor and walking up to the porch. He knocked on the front door.
    John Whitter jerked opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, his face dark with anger. He glared at his wife. “What is the meaning of this, Lara?”
    â€œI’m come to get some clothes, John. Kindly step out of the way and let me pass, please.”
    â€œSome clothes? What on earth are you talking about?”
    â€œI’m moving into the hotel for a time, John.”
    â€œThe devil you are! I forbid it!”
    â€œYou have nothing to say about it.” Lara stood her ground. “I’m leaving you. Now be a gentleman about this matter and get out of the way.”
    â€œLeaving me? You’re leaving me?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThat is absurd, Lara. Have you taken leave of your senses? What on earth brought all this on?”
    â€œYou’ve beaten me for the last time, John,” Lara stated quietly but firmly.
    â€œBeaten you? You’re accusing me of beating you?” The lawyer laughed at that. “I have never beaten you.”
    â€œThen explain the bruises on her shoulders, arms, back, and stomach, John,” Doc Evans said. “And the marks on her neck and throat.”
    â€œWhy . . .” The lawyer flushed, deepening the red already on his