&'Right."
Brian lay in bed a moment trying to imagine it. He had known Jane
longer than anyone but Johnno. He had loved her once, and he had hated
her. But he couldn't imagine her dead.
Rising, he walked to the window. The sunlight hurt his eyes and churned
the hangover up to blinding. Without thought, he poured out two fingers
of whiskey and downed it. He was almost sorry that he couldn't feel
anything but the pain in his head, dulling now under the coat of
whiskey.
She'd been the first woman he'd lain with.
Turning his head, he looked at the brunette sleeping under the rumpled
satin sheets of his bed. He didn't have any feelings for her, either.
He was always careful to choose women who wouldn't want an attachment,
who would be as satisfied as he by a few nights of sex. The dark,
dangerous, careless sex that had nothing to do with affection.
He'd made the mistake of choosing a woman who wanted more once. Jane
had never let him get on with his life, let him fully enjoy what he had.
Then he'd found Bev. She'd wanted more too, but with her, so had he. My
God, so had he. She had never let him get on with his life, either. Not
once in seventeen years had a day gone by when he hadn't thought of her.
And wanted her.
Jane had shadowed his life by refusing to get out of it. Bev had ruined
it by refusing to share it.
So he had his music, and more money than he had ever dreamed of And he
had a succession of women who meant absolutely nothing to him.
Now Jane was dead.
He wished that he could stir his heart, feel some regret for the girl he
had known once. The desperate, eager girl who had claimed to love him
above all else. But there was nothing to feel. The girl, and the boy
he had been, had been dead a long time.
So he would call Emma. It was best that she hear it from him, though he
doubted she would feel any true griel When he had called her, and made
certain she didn't need him, he would go to Ireland. To Darren. And
spend some quiet days sitting in the tall green grass.
ARE YOU SURE you're going to be all right?"
"Yes." Emma gave Marianne's hand a squeeze as they walked toward the
gate at LAX. "I'm going to be fine. I'm just going to take a few more
days to, well, let myself settle."
"You know I'd stay."
"I know." This time the squeeze of a hand wasn't enough. Emma turned
and hugged her. "I wouldn't have been able to go through with this on
my own."
"Yes, you would have. You're stronger than you think. Didn't you
cancel the credit cards, close the bank accounts, and have the
accountant play hide the money?"
"Your ideas."
"That's only because you weren't thinking of practical matters. I
wasn't going to see that bastard get a penny. I still think you should
talk to the police."
Emma only shook her head. She was just beginning to believe she might