An Evil Shadow by A. J. Davidson Read Free Book Online Page A

still in love with his wife, and not for a
moment since then, despite the damage it would do to his brother if he was ever
to find out, had he considered calling a halt to their assignations.
    She removed her dress, kicked off her shoes, and
slipped under the sheet. They didn’t talk much for a while.
    Afterwards, it was Angie who brought up the meeting
between Val and his brother.
    “He was in a foul mood for the rest of the day,” she
said. “Couldn’t you have gone along with it — for his sake?”
    “No way, even if he had had the balls to come straight
out with it.”
    Angie stood and wrapped a sheet around herself, toga
style. “I warned him to be up front, but he’s always been a little in awe of
you.”
    “The only person Marcus is in awe of is anyone pulling
down a larger salary,” Val protested, though her comment struck a rawer nerve
than she could have possibly guessed. He recalled how his brother had often
claimed to know him better than Val knew himself.
    “I’m serious. If you two are ever going to patch it
up, then you’ll have to be the one to make the first move. Brothers shouldn’t
fall out.”
    “You can choose your friends. You don’t have that
luxury with your relatives or your enemies.”
    “Damn you,” she said, picking up a pillow and throwing
it at Val. “I’d dearly love to know where you acquired your sense of morality.
The only enemy you have is yourself. You’re perfectly willing for us to cheat
on Marcus, while he continues to blame himself for breaking up our marriage.”
    “I was a cop,” Val said simply, as though that
explained all. “If he wants a guilt trip, let him have one. I’m not cheating on
anybody. You’re still my wife.”
    “Don’t remind me,” Angie snarled. “I have something to
tell you that concerns us both. Now I’m not sure that I want to.”
    “What is it?” Val asked, but Angie had disappeared into
the bathroom.
    After a quick shower, and without saying another word,
she gathered up her clothes and dressed in the living room. Most of their
bi-monthly sessions ended with them rowing. Val switched off the ceiling fan
and lay back in bed to catch the traces of her scent on the pillows. The sound
of the front door closing surprised him. It wasn’t like Angie to leave without
saying good-bye, no matter how mad she was at him. He stirred himself and went,
bare-assed, in search of a third glass of iced tea.
    He found Marie Duval standing in the center of his
living room. It was a toss-up which of them was the most astonished. Duval
recovered first.
    “Your wife told me it would be okay to come in,” she
said, allowing her gaze to sweep slowly over him.
    Val barely caught her words as he spun around and
sought sanctuary in his bedroom. He slipped on a robe and pulled the belt
tight.
    Duval had made herself at home and was sitting on the
window seat flicking through a magazine. She was wearing a man’s shirt over a
pair of faded 501s and had simple strap sandals on her feet. She had grown into
an attractive woman. Not a classic beauty in Angie’s Anglo-Saxon manner, but
with a grace and confidence that went way beyond her age. Tall and lean, she
was considerably lighter in color than her mother, though her high,
well-defined cheekbones still bore the nobility of her Dahomey ancestry. Her
hair was shaved closed to her scalp in a checkerboard design.
    Val’s immediate instinct was to throw her out, but
first there was a question he needed answered.
    “You have thirty seconds to explain what you are doing
in my house.”
    “I want to ask you something. Face to face.”
    “What did you mean when you said that my wife told you
to come in?”
    “Angie and I have become good friends in the last few
weeks — she’s been very supportive. She explained about you and her and had me
wait in the car.”
    “She brought you with her?” Val said, incredulously,
promising himself that he would call her as soon as he’d seen the girl off. He
had a