Monday's Child Read Online Free

enough for you to find them.”
    “Sara, please, let us handle it. It’s our job. Go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
    Sara stormed inside, wishing she could slam the door in his face. She’d lost Jamie again. For a moment, she was tempted to go outside and hunt for him herself, but Luke locked the door and disappeared into his room with the key.
    With as much vehemence as she could manage, Sara picked up three cushions and hurled them one at a time across the room and into the wall, screaming with each soft thud against the wooden barrier.
    She flounced back into the bedroom and slammed that door shut, too. Her anger spent, she flung herself onto the bed, leaving those curtains open in case Jamie came back. Jamie lived. She knew it. She saw him.
    She shivered. Who or what had they burned to ashes? Jamie had left instructions in his will stating his desire to be cremated. She’d seen to his wishes and when the police brought her his ashes, sprinkled them into the sea. Or so she’d thought. But if that was the case, whom had she seen tonight?
    She’d been too sick to view the body and, as was tradition, it was a closed casket funeral. She shook herself. She wouldn’t let doubts fill her confused mind. Jamie was alive and that was that. Lord, forgive my outburst. I acted like a child, what must the leftenant think of me? But it was Jamie, I know my own husband. Why won’t they believe me?
     
    ****
     
    Sara opened her eyes as a pale grey touched the sky. She lay still, hoping the sick feeling would pass. She hated feeling nauseous at the best of times and this certainly didn’t rate as that.
    Leaving it as long as she could, she got up and made a rapid dash to the bathroom. She threw up several times before leaning against the cool tiled wall, catching her breath, and wiping her face with a cool, wet cloth. Shouldn’t morning sickness have worn off by now?
    By nine, the sickness dulled, and Sara ventured into the kitchen to make coffee. Last night’s dinner dishes were nowhere in sight, and she assumed the leftenant had done them. Sara poured the coffee and leaned against the counter, sipping it. She was grateful the leftenant had slept in. She didn’t want him knowing about the baby.
    Footsteps tapped on the wood floor. Speak of the devil. His beaming smile lit the room from here. How could the American be so cheerful this early in the day? “Morning, Leftenant. I owe you an apology for my outburst last night.”
    “Morning, Sara. No apology needed. How are you doing?” Before she had chance to answer, there was a knock at the door, and he moved across the room to unlock it.
    She scowled as he let Wilcox into the chalet. This was her home, not his. She ignored his greeting and drew her brows closer together. “I assume you didn’t find Jamie since you’re alone.”
    “We did a thorough search. There was no one around. It was probably—”
    “My imagination?”
    “Kids.”
    Sara shook her head and scoffed. “I know what I saw. It was Jamie.” He didn’t look like he believed her, but there was nothing she could do to convince him. Heaving a sigh, she softened her tone. “What about the footprints?”
    “There are footprints outside your bedroom window.”
    “And they’re Jamie’s. You should put all the cops out on the streets to search for him, including the leftenant here.” She noticed the way the eyes of the two officers met and scowled in annoyance. “What?”
    Luke cleared his throat. “Sara, what if the man outside your window last night was Austin? What if he gets in? I need to be inside, with you. Always.”
    “Austin? Oh, pl-ease. Don’t you think I’d recognize my own husband when I see him?”
    Sara folded her arms across her chest and turned back to Wilcox. “I don’t suppose the leftenant told you, but I have to go shopping in town this morning. I need new clothes.”
    The officers exchanged a long silent glance, during which Sara was convinced they’d say no,