Mulberry Park by JUDY DUARTE Read Free Book Online Page A

there was still some rehashing that needed to take place, still a few things Sam didn’t know.
    She cleared her throat, buying a moment for her emotions to rally. “If Ron wants to object to the parole, he’ll have to get his own counsel. He and I were divorced about a year ago.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    She shrugged. “It was all pretty simple. We divided things as fairly as possible and had a single attorney draw up the papers. He…we…just wanted it to be over.”
    A little surprised at herself for sharing the details, she didn’t elaborate any further and was glad he hadn’t pushed for more.
    They discussed his retainer and fees, and she signed the standard paperwork. When he’d finished explaining what she could expect at the hearing and had answered her questions, she felt much better. Having someone in her corner, especially one so knowledgeable, was reassuring.
    She stood, indicating that their meeting was over. “Thank you, Sam. I appreciate you helping me with this.”
    “You’re welcome. In the meantime, I’ll do a little research in case there’s something we’re missing. More details on that prior DUI might be helpful. I’ll give you a call later in the week and let you know what I found.”
    “All right.”
    As Sam stood to escort her out, she faced him. “What do you think? The truth. What are our chances of swaying the parole board?”
    “Actually, it’s hard to say. But we’ll give it our best shot.”
    She nodded as though he’d offered her what she needed to hear.
    He hadn’t, though. Not really. There was a gaping hole in her life and her heart.
    A hole nothing could fill.

Chapter 4
    C laire might end her run each evening at Mulberry Park, but she made it a point to arrive after most people had taken their children and gone home for dinner.
    So what was she doing here on a Saturday at noon, her car idling in one of only a few empty stalls?
    She glanced across the console to the passenger seat, where a crayon-sketched angel named Erik rested. His gold halo was askew on a Bart-Simpson-style head of yellow hair, while big blue eyes with spiky black lashes looked up at her, and a crooked red grin tweaked her heart.
    Yesterday, while peering up into the mulberry, Claire had spotted the picture on the lowest branch. Analisa’s depiction of Erik-the-Angel didn’t even remotely resemble her sweet, rough-and-tumble son, a boy with dark curly hair and golden-brown eyes.
    In fact, Claire had reason to believe Analisa had drawn a male version of herself.
    Erik looks a lot like you , she’d written in her response to the first letter. She hadn’t meant that literally, but had been suggesting a commonality, since both of them were innocent children who’d been unfairly separated from their parents by death.
    She blew out a ragged sigh. If Ron were still a part of her life, he’d tell her she was crazy, that she’d been foolish to quit seeing the shrink. And she’d be hard-pressed to argue with him.
    Again she had the urge to leave, but scanned the park instead. The only person she recognized was Walter, the white-haired Korean War vet who’d caught her in the tree several evenings ago. Today he was seated at a table in the shade, not far from the restrooms.
    Would he recognize her in a crisp, ivory-colored blouse and blue linen walking shorts rather than running gear? She suspected he might.
    If she ever decided to get out of her car, she planned to keep a low profile, sit a while and watch the children from a distance—something she’d been unwilling and unable to do after Erik’s death.
    She remained behind the wheel a moment longer, then reached across the console and turned the angel picture facedown in the passenger seat. Next she climbed from the car and locked it.
    Before heading toward the park grounds, she adjusted her sunglasses. It wasn’t as if she was trying to hide or planning to stalk anyone. She was just curious, that’s all.
    Her gaze drifted to the