Jennifer Morey

The Librarian's Secret Scandal


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brown eyes soften with sympathy. Sometimes sympathy was worse than anything else. She wished people would just treat her like a normal woman.

      “I’m all right,” she almost snapped.

      “Don’t get all defensive with me,” Bonnie Gene said. “I know what this is doing to you.”

      Lily felt her shoulders sag and she leaned back in the chair. A waitress stopped by the table.

      “Nothing for me,” Lily said.

      “Two Western skillets,” Bonnie Gene told the waitress. “And some good strong coffee.”

      “I’m not hungry.” Especially for Honey-B’s ham-and-cheese-laden Western skillet.

      “You have to eat.” Then to the waitress, “Two skillets.”

      The waitress glanced once at Lily, then scribbled the order and left. Lily wondered if that look was because of the rumors rather than Bonnie Gene’s bulldozing.

      “You’ve been doing so well up until now,” Bonnie Gene said.

      “I’m fine.”

      “There you go again, all defensive. It’s okay to be upset about this, you know. Anybody would be.”

      “I’m over it.”

      “You’re strong and you’ve done well with your life. You never let it get you down, but seeing him in person like that…”

      She’d overcome the trauma of her rape, but now it felt as if she were going through it all over again. Reliving it.

      “What was it like seeing him again?”

      Lily angled her head with a do-you-have-to-ask look. Bonnie Gene was trying to get her to talk.

      “I mean, how was he toward you?”

      “Actually, he never looked at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he seemed uncomfortable that I was there.”

      “Really?”

      She nodded.

      “What if he was?”

      “He was acting.” For the sake of the board.

      “I’ve heard some criminals get that way at their parole hearings.”

      “That’s a crock.” She’d never believe Brandon was miraculously cured. Anyone who could do what he’d done to her and have no remorse couldn’t possibly be normal, even after spending so long in prison. Especially after that.

      Bonnie Gene looked at her for a while. She didn’t have to say anything. She was still worried about Lily. “When do you find out what the parole board decides?”

      “Any day now.”

      “No wonder you’re such a mess. Not knowing must be killing you.”

      It was, but she’d get through it. She would.

      “You sure you’re going to be all right?”

      “Yes.” She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Promise.”

      Bonnie Gene smiled. “You might have been a wild child before you left this place, but you were always strong. Not too many women could recover to the extent you have.”

      “Oh, I don’t know about that. Survival is a pretty good motivator.” It had been for her.

      The waitress reappeared with coffee and another long look at Lily. Lily ignored her until she left, lifting the cup and taking a tentative sip. It went down all right. That was a good sign.

      “Somebody told Maisie Colton that you dropped Wes off at the county sheriff’s building last week.”

      Lily looked at Bonnie Gene. Great. Just what she needed.

      “She asked him why,” Bonnie Gene said.

      Remembering what he’d said, she wondered if he’d stayed true to his word. She hadn’t seen him around town since that day, despite all his charm in asking her out. But maybe he wasn’t on a timetable. He was a man, after all. And it had only been a week.

      “What did he say?” she asked.

      “That you ran into him outside of town.”

      She couldn’t help smiling. That wasn’t exactly a lie. Montana State Prison was outside of town.

      “That’s what I thought,” Bonnie Gene said, and Lily knew her smile had given her away. “Spill it, girlfriend.”

      “There’s nothing to spill. I wasn’t paying attention and I ran into him and wrecked his SUV so I drove him to work.”

      Her friend’s mouth dropped open. “What? You got in a wreck? What happened?”

      “I wasn’t going fast, only about twenty miles an hour.” Which was pretty fast in a parking lot.

      “What happened?” Bonnie Gene repeated.

      Lily didn’t want to tell her too much. What if it got around town?

      “Come on. It’s me.” Bonnie Gene pointed at herself and looked injured. “You ran into our hunky sheriff and you didn’t even tell me.”

      “It was no big deal.”

      “Did he ask you out?”

      “Bonnie Gene …”

      “Oh, this is getting good. Where were you when you ran into him?”

      Lily cocked her head, not wanting to talk about this. She’d much rather lie and get on with her day. But it was so hard lying to Bonnie Gene, her one true friend through everything.

      The waitress returned with their food and left.

      “Where?” Bonnie Gene demanded, scooping up a forkfull of eggs.

      “Outside of town.” She pushed her eggs around on the plate.

      “Wes just said that to protect you.” Lily watched Bonnie Gene’s eyes and knew she was starting to figure things out.

      “When did you run into him?” she asked.

      “A few days ago.”

      “What day?” Bonnie ate more eggs, chewing and looking at her expectantly.

      Darn it! “A week ago.” She hesitated. “Today.”

      Bonnie Gene swallowed as her puzzle came together. “A week ago today? Was it the day of the parole hearing? Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Wes driving his SUV since….”

      “Oh, all right. It was the parking lot of the prison, okay? He doesn’t know why I was there, though, so don’t be spreading any rumors. I don’t want anyone to know.”

      She set her fork down. “Honey, have I ever failed you yet?”

      Lily relaxed. “No. I’m sorry.”

      “You’re just a little rattled right now. I understand.”

      Before Lily could respond, a woman appeared next to their table. Her pear-shaped body was stuffed into peach-colored stretch pants and a dark purple T-shirt that clung to rolls of fat. Shoulder-length red hair framed angry pale green eyes adorned by too much makeup.

      “You have a lot of nerve,” she said to Lily.

      Lily tried to place the woman but didn’t recognize her. She looked at Bonnie Gene, who shrugged her shoulders.

      “I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t remember me,” the woman said.

      Oh, no. Another piece of her past was about to rear its ugly head.

      “Karen. Andy Hathaway is my husband?” The woman said it like a question.

      Then memory came rushing back. A brief affair packed with lots of naked writhing