committed by the same perpetrator,” Wade said.
“Whoever the hell he is, he’s one sick puppy.” Andy glanced at the area near the rose garden—the scene of the crime.
Maleah could barely keep up with Nic as they jogged along the dirt trail by the lake. The problems between Nic and Griff were still unresolved. She had suspected as much the minute Nic called her last night and asked her to come to Griffin’s Rest, not on an assignment but as a friend.
“You’ll be on the payroll,” she had assured Maleah. “But without someone other than Barbara Jean to talk to, I’m going to wind up doing something stupid.” Barbara Jean, the wheelchair-bound girlfriend of Griff’s best friend and right-hand man, Sanders, worked full time at Griffin’s Rest. Since Nic’s marriage to Griff, the two women had become close friends.
“Barbara Jean advises me to be patient and understanding with Griff and accept the situation with Yvette,” Nic had said last night. “She doesn’t question Sanders’s past or present friendship with Yvette. But that’s the way she handles things. I can’t do it her way. I’m on the verge of exploding.”
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” Maleah had promised.
She had left her Knoxville apartment at five this morning and arrived in time for breakfast with Nic and Griff. It had taken her less than five minutes to ascertain the situation between her boss and his wife had gotten worse. They had each carried on a conversation with her, but hadn’t said two words to each other. And when Griff left for a business trip, he’d kissed Nic on the cheek. That was a sure sign of trouble in paradise.
So here Nic and she were this afternoon, running like madwomen for the second time today. She hated to tell Nic that all this physical activity wasn’t a cure-all for her troubles.
“Good grief, hold up, will you?” Maleah called to Nic, who was at least fifteen feet ahead of her.
Nic slowed her pace, then stopped and turned around to face Maleah. Perspiration dotted her face and soaked her white T-shirt and gray cotton shorts. “What’s wrong?” She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Have you got a cramp?”
“No cramp.” Maleah gasped the reply, then leaned over and sucked in large gulps of air. “Let’s sit down and talk. I’m worn to a frazzle.”
“We’ve been talking, but it hasn’t helped much. I’m still pissed as hell.”
Pulling herself up straight, Maleah walked over, lifted her arm and put it around Nic’s shoulders.
“Let’s sit down over there by the lake. If you don’t want to talk, we won’t, but I’m exhausted. I can’t run another twenty feet, let alone another mile.”
“Okay.” Nic offered Maleah a halfhearted smile. “Sorry that I’ve been putting you through this marathon. It’s either this or pack my bags and leave again.”
“What’s leaving going to solve?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”
Nic followed Maleah to the edge of the lake, where they found a grassy spot to sit. Nic bent her knees, circled them with her arms and pulled her legs toward her body.
Maleah removed her running shoes and thick cotton socks, then immersed her feet in the cool lake water. “Are we talking or sitting quietly?”
“What is there left to say? I’ve talked your ear off today. I’ve ranted and raved and gone over the same crap time and again.” Nic laughed, the sound hollow and unhappy. “I feel as if I’m spinning my wheels and going nowhere.”
“Haven’t you talked to Griff and told him what’s going on with you?”
“I’ve tried several times this past week to have a conversation with him about how I feel, and his solution is to drag me off to bed and screw me.”
Maleah grinned.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Nic said. “It’s not the least bit funny.”
“Sorry. I was just thinking how many women would love to have Griffin Powell drag them off to bed and screw them.”
Nic buried her face in her
“Whoever the hell he is, he’s one sick puppy.” Andy glanced at the area near the rose garden—the scene of the crime.
Maleah could barely keep up with Nic as they jogged along the dirt trail by the lake. The problems between Nic and Griff were still unresolved. She had suspected as much the minute Nic called her last night and asked her to come to Griffin’s Rest, not on an assignment but as a friend.
“You’ll be on the payroll,” she had assured Maleah. “But without someone other than Barbara Jean to talk to, I’m going to wind up doing something stupid.” Barbara Jean, the wheelchair-bound girlfriend of Griff’s best friend and right-hand man, Sanders, worked full time at Griffin’s Rest. Since Nic’s marriage to Griff, the two women had become close friends.
“Barbara Jean advises me to be patient and understanding with Griff and accept the situation with Yvette,” Nic had said last night. “She doesn’t question Sanders’s past or present friendship with Yvette. But that’s the way she handles things. I can’t do it her way. I’m on the verge of exploding.”
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” Maleah had promised.
She had left her Knoxville apartment at five this morning and arrived in time for breakfast with Nic and Griff. It had taken her less than five minutes to ascertain the situation between her boss and his wife had gotten worse. They had each carried on a conversation with her, but hadn’t said two words to each other. And when Griff left for a business trip, he’d kissed Nic on the cheek. That was a sure sign of trouble in paradise.
So here Nic and she were this afternoon, running like madwomen for the second time today. She hated to tell Nic that all this physical activity wasn’t a cure-all for her troubles.
“Good grief, hold up, will you?” Maleah called to Nic, who was at least fifteen feet ahead of her.
Nic slowed her pace, then stopped and turned around to face Maleah. Perspiration dotted her face and soaked her white T-shirt and gray cotton shorts. “What’s wrong?” She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Have you got a cramp?”
“No cramp.” Maleah gasped the reply, then leaned over and sucked in large gulps of air. “Let’s sit down and talk. I’m worn to a frazzle.”
“We’ve been talking, but it hasn’t helped much. I’m still pissed as hell.”
Pulling herself up straight, Maleah walked over, lifted her arm and put it around Nic’s shoulders.
“Let’s sit down over there by the lake. If you don’t want to talk, we won’t, but I’m exhausted. I can’t run another twenty feet, let alone another mile.”
“Okay.” Nic offered Maleah a halfhearted smile. “Sorry that I’ve been putting you through this marathon. It’s either this or pack my bags and leave again.”
“What’s leaving going to solve?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”
Nic followed Maleah to the edge of the lake, where they found a grassy spot to sit. Nic bent her knees, circled them with her arms and pulled her legs toward her body.
Maleah removed her running shoes and thick cotton socks, then immersed her feet in the cool lake water. “Are we talking or sitting quietly?”
“What is there left to say? I’ve talked your ear off today. I’ve ranted and raved and gone over the same crap time and again.” Nic laughed, the sound hollow and unhappy. “I feel as if I’m spinning my wheels and going nowhere.”
“Haven’t you talked to Griff and told him what’s going on with you?”
“I’ve tried several times this past week to have a conversation with him about how I feel, and his solution is to drag me off to bed and screw me.”
Maleah grinned.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Nic said. “It’s not the least bit funny.”
“Sorry. I was just thinking how many women would love to have Griffin Powell drag them off to bed and screw them.”
Nic buried her face in her
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