Sleeping in Eden by Nicole Baart Read Free Book Online

shout.
    â€œLucas! What are you doing?”
    He read one word: Angela . Then something tumbled from the creased page and fell into the hard-packed dirt at his feet. Lucas would have reached for it, but all at once Alex was before him, ripping the paper out of his hands with a furious grunt.
    â€œWhat is this?” Alex demanded, centering the page between his gloved fingers. “Where did you find it?”
    Lucas didn’t answer, just watched in silence as his friend scanned the paper. Beyond her name, there must not have been much else written. Alex’s eyes traced and retraced the same spot.
    â€œWhat is it?” Lucas echoed, for it had been nothing more than a folded piece of notebook paper when he picked it up. “Is it a suicide note?”
    Alex flattened Lucas with a withering look. “I can’t believe we missed this. Where did you find it?”
    Lucas was shamed by the accusation in his friend’s tone, but he couldn’t help feeling annoyed, too. “You told me to make myself comfortable,” Lucas reminded him.
    â€œIt’s an expression. I didn’t mean tamper with a crime scene. Where did you find this?”
    Indicating the plow with a kick, Lucas said, “It was there, against that . . .”
    â€œPlow,” Alex finished impatiently. “Where exactly?”
    â€œOn the ground. The side closest to me.”
    Alex groaned, making no attempt to disguise his frustration. “Wait here,” he said curtly. “Don’t. Touch. Anything.”
    â€œWhat does it say?” Lucas called, watching the back of Alex’s plaid shirt as the police officer retreated.
    The older man paused and turned his head just enough to shoot over his shoulder, “ ‘Angela, I’m sorry.’ ”
    â€œThat’s it?”
    One quick nod was all he got in reply.
    â€œNo signature? Nothing?”
    He was granted a terse shake of Alex’s dishwater-blond head.
    Lucas watched Alex leave the barn. The police chief would come back with more tags, the camera, his officers. He’d explain that Lucas had contaminated the evidence—that he’d dared to touch it. And the story would be repeated for DCI. Lucas wanted to sneak out through a back door of the barn and walk home. No, he wanted to rewind the clock and erase hisinvolvement in this miserable tragedy. The pain of old wounds, his wife’s inevitable sorrow, his best friend’s contempt . . . They were like boulders pressing against the narrow frame of his shoulders.
    Putting his elbows on his knees, Lucas cradled his head in his hands. The white fabric of his shoes was scuffed and dirty and the hems of his jeans were brown with dirt. As the clock ticked closer to evening, the barn got dimmer and dimmer, and outlines softened into mere hints of substance. And yet against the shadowy backdrop of the floor, Lucas could just make out a glint of something incongruous between his splayed feet.
    In the midst of Alex’s exasperation, Lucas had all but forgotten that in the moment he opened the letter, something had slid to the floor. He bent down, squinting at the object through clouded glasses.
    It was a ring. And if his assessment was right, it was real gold, though grimy and neglected and discolored. The piece of jewelry looked sad lying there, like a dejected attempt at intimacy, an artifact of love that had long faded.
    Lucas didn’t even know he was reaching for the ring until it was balanced between his thumb and forefinger. A rush of horror filled him—Alex was going to be livid—but it was quickly replaced by a feeling of lament that evolved into a quiet entitlement. They wouldn’t be able to get a usable print off such a delicate piece of metal, he reasoned. Not even the tiny, broken stone that still glowed with a milky opalescence was large enough to hold a clue.
    Staring at it, Lucas tried to picture the ring that had graced the ring