recalled, walked to Conley’s bed and held out his hand. He introduced himself and then turned to the shorter man beside him. The other one, Officer Fields, nodded at Conley.
“We came by earlier, but you were asleep. Your wife suggested we come back later.”
Conley’s mouth went tight. “She didn’t tell me you had come.”
“I didn’t have a chance yet.” Lara sent an apologetic smile to the officers, then a puzzled look to Conley. He was always short with his words, but he was rarely downright rude. “I was going to—”
“Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter,” Margulies dismissed her apology with a breezy wave of his hand. “We just wanted to talk to you about what happened, see if we can’t track down the son of a gun who put you here, that’s all.” His smile was friendly enough, but behind his demeanor, Lara caught an edge of determination. He pulled out a notebook and pen as a wave of tension rose from Conley’s bed. Lara was pretty sure the cops couldn’t tell, but she could. If he’d been able, Conley would have sprung from the bed and raced down the hall to get away from the men.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said. “I’m sure it was an accident. The guy just didn’t see me—”
“So it was a male driver?”
Conley tightened his mouth. “I couldn’t tell for sure. I just meant the driver. Whoever he—or she—was, they couldn’t see me. The snow was too bad and I was crossing the street against the light.”
The cop wrote something. “Car, van, truck?”
“It was a car,” Conley said, almost grudgingly. “A coupe, I think.”
Margulies looked up. “Didn’t get a plate number by any chance, did you?”
Conley shook his head.
“Color?”
“I don’t know.”
“Make?”
“No idea.”
Lara stood by in silence. She wasn’t surprised by Conley’s answers; he’d been focused on their argument and wouldn’t remember the details of the car. But why was he so nervous?
The other officer, who had said nothing up to this point, went to the opposite side of the room to lean against the wall. He spoke with his arms crossed, his face closed. “You own Harrison’s, right?”
“That’s right.” Conley’s voice sounded even tighter than it had before.
“Can’t you give us any details at all about the car that hit you? Any damage on it, for example? A broken headlight maybe?” Margulies tapped his pen against his notebook. “This isn’t much to work with.”
“I’ve told you everything I can.”
Fields spoke again, and despite her initial impressions, Lara realized he was the one in charge. “You have any enemies, Mr. Harrison?”
“Everyone has enemies, don’t they?”
The two cops looked at him and so did Lara. After a second, Conley shrugged. “None that would want to run over me,” he said finally. “At least none that I know of.”
Slapping his notebook closed, Margulies shook his head. “Well, I guess that’s it, unless you can think of—”
“Any problems at work?” Fields spoke as if the other man hadn’t. Then he shot a glance in Lara’s direction. “Any problems at home?”
“Everything’s fine.” Conley spoke quickly and Lara jerked her head in his direction. He smiled at her for the benefit of the watching policemen, but his eyes warned her not to call him on the lie.
Lara smiled back automatically. He was tighter than a watch spring, she thought in amazement. What on earth was wrong with him?
“I’d like to get home, though.” He looked at the cops. “If that’s all you need…”
“No problem,” Margulies said, sending a nod in Lara’s direction. “But you give us a call when you’re feeling better and maybe we’ll be able to do a little more. In the meantime, take care of yourself.”
The door closed behind them with a swish, and Lara turned immediately to Conley. “What’s going on?” she demanded without preamble. “You acted as if they were here to arrest you, for God’s sake!”
“Nothing’s going on.” His demeanor sharp once more, he eased to the side of the bed with a grimace and stood up, an audible groan escaping before he could stop it.
Her first thought was to help him but this time she stayed where she was. “Conley, come on! I know you! I know you’re hiding—”
Turning sharply, he cursed at her. “Dammit, Lara, I said nothing was going on. Would you believe me for once? Cut me some slack, for God’s sake. I’m in pain here!”
When he came out of the bathroom a few moments later, he was dressed in the clothes she’d brought him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said without looking at her. “I want to go home.”
CONLEY BROODED all the way home and Lara let him. It was pointless to try to get him to talk so she didn’t even make the effort.
They drove through the snow-locked town in silence, the beauty of the frozen landscape nonexistent to them both. The only thing Lara could think about were the two cops and their questions. At Mesa, she frequently dealt with the police about the various cases they were handling. Margulies and Fields were good but it would have taken better to pry anything out of Conley.
And he clearly had something to hide.
As she turned down their street and eased into the driveway, it hit Lara. Maybe Conley did have something to hide…but not from them. She’d been in the room, too. Maybe his reluctance to elaborate had more to do with her presence than theirs.
The idea upset her, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she had any sense, from now on she’d close her mind to thoughts like those. Their marriage was over. She’d declared it dead with her request. The only thing left to do was bury it. Getting hurt and wondering about what could have been made no difference now.
She pulled the SUV into the garage and parked, but by the time she got to the other side of the vehicle to help Conley out, he’d already managed to open his door and slide from the seat. Pale and clearly in pain, he stood stiffly as she rounded the truck’s fender.
“I would have helped you.” She stopped, her hand on the cold metal. “Couldn’t you have waited?”
“It’s okay,” he said from behind gritted teeth.
Always silent, always tough.
“Fine.” She turned around and abandoned him where he was. If that was what he wanted, she could play by those rules, she fumed. Let him make his own damn way inside.
She unlocked the door and went into the house. She’d left the thermostat up that morning when she’d rushed to the hospital and a comforting warmth wrapped itself around her. The place felt like home. Except one ingredient was missing—the essential one—and that was, as Sandy had so aptly noted, love.
A few moments after she entered, the door squeaked again and Conley stepped inside. One look at his face and the thoughts she’d just had fled Lara’s mind. Conley looked horrible, all his weight on his good left leg. She rushed to where he wobbled.
“Put your arm around my shoulder,” she commanded. “You need some help.”
“I don’t—”
“Oh, for God’s sakes, Conley! You’re white as a sheet and just about as strong. Let me help you get into bed!”
He started to say something, then obviously thought better of it. Lifting his arm, he draped it over her shoulder.
Her