The Witness

by Sandra Brown

Genres: Mystery

Synopsis

Kendall Deaton pulls herself and her baby out of a wrecked car, and a mixture of courage and fear gets her to the top of a ravine, where she flags down help. But she doesn't dare reveal her true identity to the authorities. Instead, she plans her immediate escape. Her perilous flight begins.

The best public defender in Prosper, South Carolina, Kendall had stumbled upon the town's chilling secret-and her marriage to one of the town's most powerful men has become a living hell. Now Kendall is a terrified mother trying to save her child's life…a reluctant witness who knows too much about an insidious evil…and a woman surrounded by forces that will stop at nothing to protect what is "theirs."

"This page-turner is a must on any summer beach reading list and a testament to Brown's gifts as a talented storyteller." -USA Today

Release date: June 25, 2013

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 448

Sample

By the authority vested in me by Almighty God and the state of South Carolina, I pronounce you husband and wife. Matthew, you may kiss your bride.”

The wedding guests applauded as Matt Burnwood drew Kendall Deaton into his arms. Laughter erupted when his kiss extended beyond a chaste token. He was reluctant to stop.

“That’ll have to wait,” Kendall whispered against his lips. “Unfortunately.”

Matt gave her a pained look, but, being a good sport, turned to face the several hundred people who had turned out in their Sunday best to attend the affair.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the minister intoned, “may I present, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Burnwood.”

Arm in arm, Kendall and Matt faced their smiling guests. Matt’s father was seated alone in the front row. He stood and opened his arms to Kendall.

“Welcome to our family,” he said, embracing her. “God sent you to us. We’ve needed a woman in our family. If Laurelann were alive, she’d love you, Kendall. Just as I do.”

Kendall kissed Gibb Burnwood’s ruddy cheek. “Thank you, Gibb. That’s very sweet of you.”

Laurelann Burnwood had passed away when Matt was a youngster, but he and Gibb spoke of her death as though it were recent. The widower cut an impressive figure, with his white crew cut and tall, trim physique. Many widows and divorcées had set their caps for Gibb, but their affections remained unrequited. He’d had his one true love, he often said. He wasn’t looking for another.

Matt placed one arm around his father’s broad shoulders, the other around Kendall. “We needed each other. We’re a complete family now.”

“I only wish Grandmother could have been here,” Kendall remarked sadly.

Matt gave her a sympathetic smile. “I wish she’d felt up to making the trip from Tennessee.”

“It would have been too hard on her. She’s here in spirit, though.”

“Let’s not get too maudlin,” Gibb cut in. “These folks came to eat, drink, and be merry. This is your day. Enjoy it.”

Gibb had spared no expense to guarantee that their wedding would be remembered and talked about for years to come. Kendall had been shocked by his extravagance. Shortly after accepting Matt’s proposal, she had suggested that they have a private ceremony, perhaps in a pastor’s study.

Gibb wouldn’t hear of it.

He eschewed the tradition of the bride’s family financing the wedding and insisted on hosting it himself. Kendall demurred, but Gibb, with his disarming, winning personality, had shot down all her arguments.

“Don’t take offense,” Matt had told her when she expressed her dismay over Gibb’s elaborate plans. “Dad wants to throw a party, the likes of which Prosper has never seen. Since neither you nor your grandmother is financially able to do it, he’s pleased to foot the bill. I’m his only child. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for him. So let’s give him his head and let him run.”

It hadn’t taken long for Kendall to be swept up in the excitement. She selected her gown, but Gibb took control of everything else, although he considerately consulted her before any major decisions were finalized.

His strict attention to detail had paid off, because today his house and lawn looked spectacular. Matt and she had exchanged vows beneath a latticed arch bedecked with gardenias, white lilies, and white roses. Inside a large tent was an elaborate buffet of salads, side dishes, and entrees to suit every palate.

The wedding cake was a breathtaking sculpture with several tiers. The creamy frosting was decorated with clusters of fresh rosebuds. There was also a chocolate groom’s cake with fudge icing drizzled over strawberries nearly as large as tennis balls. Magnums of champagne were chilling in tubs of ice. The guests seemed dedicated to drinking every drop of it.

Despite such glamour, the reception was truly a family affair. Children played under the shade trees. After the bride and groom initiated the dancing with a wedding waltz, other couples crowded the floor until everyone was dancing.

It was a fairy tale wedding. Complete with an ogre.



Kendall, unaware of the menace surrounding her, couldn’t have imagined being happier. Matt held her close and twirled her about the dance floor. With his tall, slender physique, he seemed made to wear a tuxedo without looking awkward. He was incredibly handsome. His evenly defined features and straight hair gave him the aristocratic bearing of a robber baron.

“You have that elegant, aloof air about you. Like Gatsby,” Kendall had once told him teasingly.

She wanted to go on dancing with him for hours, but guests were vying for a dance with the bride. Among them was Judge H. W. Fargo. She all but groaned when Matt relinquished her to the judge, who demonstrated no more grace on the dance floor than he did in the courtroom.

“I had my doubts about you,” Judge Fargo remarked as he swung her into a turn that almost caused her a whiplash. “When I heard they were hiring a female to be this county’s public defender, I had serious misgivings that you could handle the job.”

“Really?” she said coolly.

Fargo was not only a terrible dancer and a lamentable judge but a sexist to boot, Kendall thought. Since her first appearance in his courtroom, he’d made no effort to conceal his “misgivings.”

“Why were you apprehensive, Judge?” she asked, struggling to keep her pleasant smile in place.

“Prosper’s a conservative county and town,” he said expansively. “Damn proud of it, too. Around here, folks have been doing things the same way for generations. We’re slow to change and don’t like it when we’re forced to. A lady lawyer is a novelty.”

“You think women should remain at home to cook, clean, and care for children, is that it? They shouldn’t aspire to be professionals?”

He harrumphed. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t.”

Such a candid statement might cost him votes. Everything he said in public was self-censored. Judge H. W. Fargo was a consummate politician. If only he were as effective a judge.

“All I’m saying is that Prosper is a clean little town. You don’t find the problems here that other cities have. We nip corrupting influences in the bud. We—meaning myself and other public officials—intend to keep our standards high.”

“Do you think I’m a corrupting influence, Judge?”

“Not at all, not at all.”

“My job is to provide legal counsel for those who can’t afford their own attorney. The Constitution grants every U.S. citizen legal representation.”

“I know what the Constitution grants,” he said testily.

Kendall smiled to take the sting out of her mild insult. “Sometimes I must remind myself. My work brings me in close contact with an element of society we all wish weren’t there. But as long as there are criminals, they will need someone to plead their cases in court. No matter how unsavory my client, I try to plead every case to the best of my ability.”

“No one’s questioning your ability. Despite your involvement in that nasty business back in Tennessee…” He broke off and smiled unctuously. “Well, why bring that up today?”

Why indeed? The judge’s reminder of her past difficulties had been deliberate. Kendall resented him for thinking she was stupid enough to believe it had been a blunder.

“You’re doing a fine job, a fine job,” he said ingratiatingly. “I’ll admit that having a woman arguing points of law with me took some getting used to.” His laugh sounded like a bark. “You know, until you showed up for your interview, we thought we were hiring a man.”

“My name can be misleading.”

The board of directors of the Prosper County Bar Association had decided to form a public defender’s office to relieve their membership of handling defense of indigents. Even on a rotating basis, these cases could be costly in time and lost revenue.

The board had been stupefied when Kendall arrived wearing three-inch heels and a dress instead of a suit and tie. Her resumé had been so impressive that they had responded promptly to her correspondence and were almost willing to hire her sight unseen. The interview should have been a mere formality.

Instead, she had been placed in the hot seat. Knowing ahead of time that she would be going up against a wall of good-ol’-boy mentality, she had carefully rehearsed her sales pitch. The speech was worded to combat their prejudices and assuage their uncertainties without offending them.

She had desperately wanted the job. She was qualified to do it, and since her future hinged on her getting it, she had pulled out all the stops.

Obviously she had done well, because the board had offered her the job. That one blot on her professional record hadn’t factored in to their decision nearly as much as her gender. Or perhaps they believed that because of her sex, she should be cut some slack. She had made a mistake, but it was forgivable because she was, after all, only a woman.

It didn’t matter to Kendall what they thought or how they had reached their decision. In the eight months that she had been in Prosper, she had proven her capabilities. She had worked hard to earn the respect of her peers and the general public. Her skeptics were eating crow.

Even the publisher of the local newspaper, who, upon the announcement of her placement, had written an editorial questioning if a woman could handle such a difficult job, had undergone a change of heart.

That publisher moved up behind her now, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed the back of her neck. “Judge, you’ve monopolized the prettiest girl at the party long enough.”

Fargo chuckled. “Spoken like a bridegroom.”

“Thanks for rescuing me,” Kendall said, sighing as Matt danced her away. She laid her cheek against the lapel of his tuxedo jacket and closed her eyes. “It’s bad enough that I have to fence with that redneck-in-robes in court. It’s above and beyond the call of duty to dance with him at my wedding.”

“Be nice,” he chided.

“I was. In fact, I was so charming I nearly made myself sick.”

“The judge can be a pain, but he’s an old friend of Dad’s.”

Matt was right. Besides, she wouldn’t give Judge Fargo the satisfaction of blighting her wedding day. She raised her head and smiled up at Matt. “I love you. How long has it been since I told you?”

“Ages. At least ten minutes.”

They were nuzzling affectionately when a bellowing voice interrupted them: “Hey, kid, this is quite a bash!”

Kendall turned to see her maid of honor two-stepping past in the arms of a local pharmacist. The mousy, self-effacing man seemed bewildered to find himself in the embrace of such a vivacious, abundantly endowed woman.

“Hi, Ricki Sue,” Kendall said. “Having fun?”

“Do bears shit in the woods?”

Ricki Sue Robb’s tall beehive hairdo was bobbing in time to the music. Her face was shiny with sweat above the décolletage of her pale blue dress. It had been a challenge for Kendall to choose a bride’s maid gown that would flatter her friend. Ricki Sue’s complexion was an uneven blend of sallow skin and rusty freckles. Her hair was the color of fresh carrot juice, but, far from downplaying this distinguishing feature, Ricki Sue preferred the most elaborate styles she could devise. Her coiffures were engineering marvels worthy of architectural study.

The wide gap between her front teeth was constantly on display because she was always smiling. Her full lips glistened with fire-engine-red lipstick, an unfortunate choice considering the color of her hair.

In a voice with all the subtlety of a reveille trumpet, she blared, “You said your husband was a handsome devil, but you didn’t tell me he was also rich as sin.”

Kendall felt Matt stiffen with disapproval. Ricki Sue didn’t mean to be offensive. In fact, she thought she was paying him a compliment. But in Prosper, personal wealth wasn’t discussed in polite company. Not out loud, anyway.

After Ricki Sue and the dazed pharmacist waltzed out of earshot, Kendall said, “It would be a polite gesture for you to ask her to dance, Matt.”

He grimaced. “I’m afraid she’d trample me.”

“Matt, please.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you? At the rehearsal dinner last night you made it glaringly apparent to me that you had formed an instant dislike for Ricki Sue. I hope she didn’t notice, but I certainly did.”

“She’s not at all the way you described her to me.”

“I told you she was my best friend. That should be description enough.”

Since Grandmother’s declining health had prevented her from attending the wedding, Ricki Sue was Kendall’s only guest. If for no other reason than that, she had hoped Matt would make an effort to be friendly and cordial to her. Instead, Ricki Sue’s boisterous conversation had caused him and Gibb to cringe. They’d been embarrassed by her unrestrained, bawdy laugh, which seemed to originate in her massive bosoms.

“I grant you that Ricki Sue isn’t a genteel Southern lady.”

Matt scoffed at the understatement. “She’s coarse, Kendall. Common. I expected her to be like you. Feminine and soft-spoken and beautiful.”

“She’s very beautiful on the inside.”

Ricki Sue was the receptionist at Bristol and Mathers, the law firm where Kendall had previously been an associate. When they’d first met, Kendall had been unable to see beyond the redhead’s brashness.

Gradually, however, she came to know and like the sensitive woman beneath the flamboyant exterior. Ricki Sue was unpretentious, practical, tolerant, and trustworthy. Especially trustworthy.

“I’m sure she has some admirable traits,” Matt conceded grudgingly. “And maybe she can’t help being fat. It’s just that she comes on so strong.”

Kendall winced over his using the word fat, when other adjectives would have served just as well. Better, he could have refrained from using any derogatory adjectives.

“If you’d give her half a chance—”

He laid his finger vertically against her lips. “Are we going to quarrel at our wedding reception in front of all our guests over something so insignificant?”

She could argue that his rudeness to her friend wasn’t insignificant, but his point about this not being the time to quarrel was valid. Besides, there were several of his friends she wasn’t particularly fond of either.

“All right, truce,” she agreed. “But if I were going to pick a quarrel, it would be over all the women here who’ve glared daggers at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead a dozen times over.”

“Who? Where?” He whipped his head around as though searching for the brokenhearted ladies.

“Not on your life,” she said in a growling tone, clutching his lapels possessively. “But just out of curiosity, how many hearts did you break by marrying me?”

“Who’s counting?”

“Seriously, Matt.”

“Seriously?” He pulled a sober face. “Seriously, I’m one of the few bachelors in Prosper between puberty and senility. So if you see a few long faces in the crowd, that’s why. The mature single women here have come one statistic closer to getting struck by lightning.”

His flippancy served its purpose—she began to laugh. “Well, whatever, I’m glad you waited for matrimony until I came along.”

He stopped dancing and drew her closer, tipping her head back and lowering his lips to hers. “So am I.”



It wasn’t easy to be inconspicuous while wearing a wedding gown and veil, but half an hour later Kendall was able to slip unnoticed into the house.

She didn’t like Gibb’s house, particularly the large living area where dark paneled walls provided a fitting backdrop for his hunting and fishing trophies.

To Kendall’s unappreciative eye, one fish mounted on a walnut plaque looked as pathetic as another. The blind stares of deer, elk, wild boar, and other game evoked sympathy and repugnance. As Kendall moved through the living room, she cast a wary glance at the head of a ferocious razorback, preserved forever with tusks bared.

Hunting and fishing were Gibb’s stock-in-trade. His sporting goods store was located on Prosper’s main street. In this mountainous Blue Ridge area of northwestern South Carolina, he did a thriving business and continued to cultivate a loyal clientele. Customers traveled for miles to spend their money with him.

He was good at what he did. Hopeful hunters and fishermen valued his opinion and whipped out their Visa cards for whatever gadget, scope, or lure he suggested that might make their forays more successful. Frequently they returned with their kills or catches, dragging carcasses right into the store, to gloat over their skill with rifle or trap or rod and reel.

Gibb was generous with his praise and took no credit for the advice he gave. He was admired as an outdoorsman and as an individual. Those who couldn’t claim to be his friend would have liked to.

When she reached the half-bath that served as Gibb’s powder room, the door was closed. She tapped lightly.

“Be out in a sec.”

“Ricki Sue?”

“That you, kid?”

Ricki Sue opened the door from the inside. She was using a damp hand towel to mop her perspiring cleavage. “I’m sweating like a pig. Come on in.”

Kendall gathered up her train and veil and joined Ricki Sue in the small bathroom, closing the door behind her. Although it was crowded, she welcomed the quiet moment alone with her friend.

“Was your room at the motel okay?” Motels were scarce in Prosper. Kendall had reserved the best room available for Ricki Sue, but it had few amenities.

“I’ve slept in worse. Screwed in worse, too,” she said, winking at Kendall in the mirror. “Speaking of which, is that handsome stud of yours as good as he looks?”

“I never kiss and tell,” Kendall retorted with a coy smile.

“Then you’re shortchanging yourself, ’cause telling is half the fun.”

At Bristol and Mathers, Ricki Sue had kept the associates and clerks enthralled with her sexual exploits. She added an episode to the ongoing soap opera of her life every morning at the coffee machine. Some of her tales were too farfetched to be believed. Amazingly, however, all were true.

“You worry me, Ricki Sue. It’s dangerous to have multiple partners.”

“I’m careful. Always have been.”

“I’m sure you are, but—”

“Listen, kid, don’t lecture. I do the best I can with what I’ve got. When you look like me, you gotta take what you can get from men. I don’t know of one who’s gonna fall head over heels for this.” She spread her arms at her sides.

“So, rather than get my heart broken time after time, or be a perpetual wallflower and end up a bitter old maid, I made up my mind years ago to be accommodating.

“I give ’em what they want, and I’ve got a real talent for it. When the lights are out and everybody’s naked, they don’t care if you look like a fairy princess or a warthog so long as you’ve got a tight, warm place for them to put it. It all feels good in the dark, kid.”

“That’s such a sad and sordid philosophy.”

“Works for me.”

“But how do you know that one of these days Mr. Right isn’t going to come sweeping into your life?”

Ricki Sue’s laugh sounded like a foghorn. “I’d have a better chance of winning the lottery.” Then her smile faded and she became introspective. “Don’t be misled. I’d trade my life for yours in a New York minute. I’d love to have a husband, a bunch of rowdy kids, the whole package.

“But since that’s not likely, I refuse to do without the fun stuff. I take whatever affection I can get and in whatever form. Behind my back, I know people say, ‘How can she let men use her like that?’ The truth is, I use them. Because unfortunately…” She paused to eye Kendall up and down with good-natured envy. “All women are not created equal. I look like a walrus with a good henna rinse, and you’re… well, you.”

“Don’t put yourself down. Besides, I thought you loved me for my mind,” Kendall teased.

“Oh, you’re smart all right. So smart you frankly scare the hell out of me. And you’ve got more guts than anybody I ever ran across, and I’ve run across some pretty tough hombres.”

Teasing aside, she looked at Kendall solemnly. “I’m glad things worked out for you here, kid. You took one hell of a chance. You’re still taking a chance.”

“To some extent, yes,” Kendall agreed. “But I’m not worried. Too much time has passed. If it was going to come crashing down, it would have by now.”

“I don’t know,” Ricki Sue said doubtfully. “I still think you’re crazy as a bedbug for going through with it. And if I had it to do over again, I’d still advise you against it. Does Matt know?”

Kendall shook her head.

“Shouldn’t you tell him?”

“What for?”

“Because he’s your husband, for crying out loud!”

“Exactly. What difference would it make in how he feels about me?”

Ricki Sue mulled that over for a moment. “What does your grandma think?”

“The same as you,” she admitted reluctantly. “She urged me to tell him.”

Elvie Hancock was the only parent Kendall remembered, having been orphaned when she was five. She had reared Kendall with a firm but loving hand. On most matters of importance, Kendall agreed with her. She trusted the woman’s instincts and valued the wisdom of her advanced years.

But on the issue of being totally honest with Matt, they had differing opinions. Kendall was convinced that her way was best. Quietly she said, “You and Grandmother must trust me on this, Ricki Sue.”

“Okay, kid. But if a skeleton pops out of your closet and bites you on the butt, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Laughing at the image Ricki Sue’s words had painted, Kendall leaned forward and embraced her. “I miss you. Promise you’ll come to visit often.”

Ricki Sue folded the hand towel with more care than it warranted. “I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”

Kendall’s smile collapsed. “Why not?”

“Because your husband and his daddy have made plain their feelings for me. No, don’t apologize,” Ricki Sue hastened to say when she saw that Kendall was about to protest. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what they think of me. They remind me too much of my own self-righteous parents for me to care about their opinion. Oh, hell. I didn’t mean to put them down, it’s just…” Her heavily made up eyes pleaded for Kendall’s understanding. “I don’t want to be the cause of any problems.”

Kendall knew exactly what her friend was trying to express, and the sentiment made her appreciate Ricki Sue all the more. “I miss you and Grandmother more than I realized I would, Ricki Sue. Tennessee seems very far away. I need a friend.”

“Make one.”

“I’ve tried, so far without success. The women here are polite, but distant. Maybe they resent me for blowing into town and stealing Matt from them. Or maybe my career puts them off. Their lives seem to have a different focus than mine. Anyway, nobody could replace you as my best friend. Please don’t write me off.”

“I’m not writing you off, God knows. I don’t have that many friends myself. But let’s be practical about this.” She pressed Kendall’s shoulders between her hands. “Other than me, your last remaining link to Sheridan, Tennessee, is your grandmother. When she dies, turn your back on that town forever, Kendall. Sever all ties there, including me. Don’t press your luck.”

Kendall nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging the merit of her friend’s advice. “Grandmother won’t live much longer. I wish she had moved here with me, but she refused to leave her home. This separation is breaking my heart. You know how important she is to me.”

“And vice versa. She loves you. She’s always wanted what’s best for you. If you’re happy, she’ll die happy. That’s the best you can wish for her.”

Kendall knew that Ricki Sue was right. Her throat tightened. “Look after her for me, Ricki Sue.”

“I call her every day and go see her at least twice a week, just like I promised I would.” She took Kendall’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Now, I’d like to get back to the party and all that wonderful champagne and food. Maybe I can wheedle another dance out of that druggist. He’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”

“He’s married.”

“So? They’re usually the ones most desperate for some of Ricki Sue’s famous tender loving care.” She patted her large breasts.

“Shame on you!”

“Sorry, that word’s not in my vocabulary.” Chuckling deeply, she scooted Kendall aside and opened the door. “I’m outta here. Much as I’d like to stick around and see how you go about it.”

“Go about what?”

“Taking a leak in a wedding gown.”



Will there be anything else, miss?”

The question yanked Kendall from her daydream about her wedding. She remembered even the smallest details of that day, but she felt completely removed from it, as if it had happened to someone else, or in another lifetime.

“That’s all, thank you,” she replied to the clerk.

Despite the inclement weather, Wal-Mart was packed with customers. The aisles were jammed with shopping carts filled with everything from roller skates to rolling pins.

“One forty-two seventy-seven. Cash, check, or charge?”

“Cash.”

The young man hadn’t taken any particular notice of her. She was just one of hundreds of customers to be checked out that day. If asked later, he wouldn’t recall her, couldn’t describe her. Anonymity was what she sought.

Last night, when she finally lay down in the bed in Stephensville Community Hospital, she had been more tired than she remembered being in her entire life. Her whole body was sore and throbbing from the accident. The ordeal of getting out of the ravine had left her with cuts and bruises that hurt worse the longer the night wore on.

She had desperately craved oblivion, but she had lain awake throughout the night.

Who are you? Who am I?

He’s my husband.

The words had echoed inside her head. From her pillow, she had stared with gritty eyes at the acoustical tile ceiling, replaying those words in her mind and wondering if having spoken them would turn out to be fortune or folly. It was too late now to recall them, and even if she could she wouldn’t.

His amnesia was only temporary. So, while he was locked in forgetfulness, she had to make the most of it. She hoped this would give her time to save Kevin and herself. After all, saving Kevin was the purpose behind everything she had done thus far. Protecting the baby was worth taking any chance, even one this risky.

He had caused quite a scene when informed that he had amnesia. His recovery would require rest and relaxation, the doctor had told him. He would have to take it easy in order for his leg to heal, so why not enjoy the unexpected, imposed vacation? The more pressure he placed on himself to regain his memory, the more elusive it would become. A mind under duress could be stubbornly uncooperative. He was continually urged to relax.

But he hadn’t relaxed, not even when, at the doctor’s suggestion, Kendall carried Kevin into his room. The sight of the child had only increased his agitation, which didn’t abate until a nurse took Kevin away.

The doctor, much more subdued than he had been earlier, had tried to reassure Kendall. “I recommend that we let him rest undisturbed through the night. Amnesia’s tricky. Tomorrow morning when he wakes up, he’ll probably remember everything.”

At first light, she had dressed in a uniform one of the nurses loaned her and anxiously returned to his room. His memory had not been restored during the night.

When she walked in, he self-consciously raised the sheet to his waist. The nurse had just completed giving him a bed bath, which had obviously embarrassed him. She withdrew, taking the paraphernalia with her and leaving them alone.

Kendall gestured awkwardly. “I’m sure the bath made you feel better.”

“Some. But I hated it.”

“Generally speaking, men make terrible patients.” She gave him a wavering smile and moved closer. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“No, I’m fine. Are you okay? You and the kid?”

“Miraculously, Kevin and I walked away unscathed.”

He nodded. “That’s good.”

Kendall could tell that even this much conversation was taxing him. “I’ve got some things to attend to, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call the nurses. They seem competent.”

Again he nodded, this time without comment.

She was about to leave, when, as an afterthought, she turned back, leaned over him, and kissed his forehead. His eyes, which had closed, opened suddenly. Their impact reduced Kendall’s voice to a hushed whisper. “Rest well. I’ll be in to see you later.”

She hastily left his room. Shortly afterward, she approached a nurse and said, “I need to run some errands. Is there taxi service?”

Laughing, the nurse produced a set of car keys. “Forget calling a taxi in this town, honey. My car is yours to use until my shift ends at three this afternoon. Take my raincoat, too.”

“Thank you so much.” She had welcomed this unexpected generosity. “Kevin needs some essentials and I can’t continue dressing in a nurse uniform. I really need to do a bit of shopping.”

The nurse gave her directions to Wal-Mart, then said hesitantly, “Forgive me for getting personal, honey. But, seeing as how your stu