Page 65 of The Other Lady Vanishes

She took a deep breath and visibly steeled herself. “I think you should know that I didn’t tell you the whole truth last night when I said I didn’t recognize the dark-haired man who walked past us in the gardens.”

“I figured there was more to the story. Who was he?”

“I can’t be absolutely positive because I didn’t get a good look at him, but I think it may have been my husband,” Adelaide said.

She turned and walked out of the bedroom before he could think of a reasonable response.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, contemplating what she had just told him.

There was a husband. Damn.

He collected his shaving kit and went into the bathroom. He set the kit on the pink tiled counter and put the coffee mug next to it. Then he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was not an inspiring sight,he decided. His face was shadowed with dark stubble, his hair was standing on end, and his eyes were those of a man who had spent an exhausting night fighting demons.

He drained the last of the coffee and set the empty mug back on the counter.

“I knew it was going to get more complicated,” he said to the man in the mirror.

Chapter 32

He went downstairs a short time later, feeling remarkably improved. It was amazing what a quick bath, a brisk shave, and a cup of strong coffee could do for a man.

Adelaide was at the stove frying eggs and slathering butter on thick chunks of toast. When she saw him, she handed him another mug of coffee without saying a word.

He sat down at the scarred table and hoisted the mug.

“I’m listening,” he said.

She concentrated on the eggs in the skillet.

“You’re probably going to think I’m delusional,” she warned.

“Is that why you haven’t told me the whole truth until now?”

“Yes.” She used a spatula to lift one of the eggs out of the pan and slipped it onto a plate. “I didn’t want to have to tell you the truth because I liked the way you looked at me—at least, the way you looked at me until last night.”

“How, exactly, did I look at you?”

“As if I was normal. That’s the way everyone else here in Burning Cove looks at me, too. It makes me feel good.”

“Are you saying you’re not normal?”

“I think I’m fairly normal. But it’s going to be hard to convince you of that after I tell you my story.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“All right.”

She dished up the second fried egg, added the toast, and set the plate in front of him. She poured a large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for him, got a mug of tea for herself, and sat down on the opposite side of the table.

“I told you that my mother was a botanist,” she said. “And that my father was a chemist. They were both dedicated scientists who spent their lives searching for new drugs that could be used on patients who suffered from very severe forms of depression and other mental illnesses. My father came from a wealthy family. He built his own private lab. A year ago they discovered a drug they thought had the potential to revolutionize the treatment of the mentally ill. It has a long chemical name but they called it Daydream.”

He nodded and forked up a bite of eggs. “Go on.”

“Shortly after they made their discovery, my parents were both killed in an explosion in their lab. I was devastated. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters and no close family. I found myself alone in the world.”

He tore off a chunk of toast. “Alone in the world with a lot of money.”

She paused in the act of taking a sip of tea. “Yes. My father left me a sizable fortune.”