Don't Go Home by Carolyn Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

careful rereading of
Don’t Go Home
, now that she knew Alex’s connection to Joan Turner, opened doors these islanders had surely thought closed to the world atlarge. Those in the family and connected to Alex were well aware what a careful reading revealed. They dared not stay away. What if Alex told everyone? That possibility brought them. They knew at terrible personal cost the truth behind Alex Griffith’s characters. She saw that knowledge as she studied them, one by one. Each made an effort to appear as usual, but perhaps no one can face disgrace, embarrassment, perhaps criminal accusations, and maintain a bright and comfortable facade. Deep inside she felt a sickening realization that they would also associate this night with her and Death on Demand. Tomorrow she’d put an ad in the
Gazette
, disclaim all responsibility.
    Annie felt enormous sympathy as well as a disturbing frisson of threat and darkness as she looked from face to face.
    The provocative sentences in Ginger Harris’s lead floated in her mind.
    Has Martin felt remorse?
    A fatal car wreck in the novel, not a sailing accident, a woman who died, not a man. In the book, Martin ran through the money that his wife, Regina, inherited, then pressured her until she took out an insurance policy. Her death was accidental but perhaps there was a sense that Regina welcomed death, that she drove fast and recklessly, angry with her husband. The kernel of the story was true here, an accidental death and the payoff of a huge insurance policy, a spouse saved from financial ruin, a speculator saved from disgrace. Martin and Regina in the novel represented Lynn Griffith and her late husband, Heyward. Lynn was Heyward’s well-heeled widow after his sailboat was found drifting. Heyward’s body floated to shore three days later.
    Tonight Lynn was a vision of elegance in a pale green silk jacket with oversized shimmering abalone-shell buttons. Lynn stared at the empty gazebo. There was no social smile this evening.
    Will Buck keep Louanne’s secret?
    Alex Griffith wasn’t onstage yet. Would he appear in a white planter’s suit, shades of Tom Wolfe? Had Rae arranged for a spot to illuminate him? A TV camera crew moved a little restively near one side of the gazebo. The comely reporter, swirling black hair, smoothly made-up face, checked her watch, tapped an impatient foot.
    When Alex appeared, he would be handsome, virile, exuding charm just as the rumpled ad exec Buck did in Alex’s book. Alex’s self-portrait was admiring. Buck was the eye through which everyone in the novel was viewed, including Louanne, who was unhappily married to a feckless alcoholic. An impetuous affair. An unexpected pregnancy. A cuckolded husband who never knew. Annie thought about Marian’s freckle-faced son, not dark like Marian and her ex-husband, but fair like Alex Griffith, a sunny kid with golden brown hair.
    Marian still lurked in the shadows on the far side of the gazebo, close to a path that led to the rooms in the east wing. She would see Alex as soon as he reached the terrace.
    Will Mary Alice ever tell Charles the truth?
    Joan Turner, Alex’s sister, rested a sharply pointed chin on the back of a fist. She was undoubtedly attractive, the pale blue linen dress perfect for her coal black hair, but her rigid posture betrayed her. She sat stiff and still, her thin face expressionless in the fading light. The passage in the novel detailing a sister’s affair had been explicit. Now Joan’s husband, Leland, looked toward the gazebo, but he radiated awareness of his wife beside him. Abruptly, Joan came to her feet. She bent, murmured something, then moved out into the aisle. She walked swiftly toward the back of the inn. Leland Turner twisted in his seat and watched as she disappeared inside the inn.
    As he swings a golf club, enjoying power and pleasure, does Kenny think of a wasted form lying on a bed?
    Annie recalled the narrative and