Patricia Dusenbury - Claire Marshall 01 - A Perfect Victim Read Online Free Page B

Once she'd taken care of the
difficult business with Frank, this would be a nice day for a trip to the beach. If Frank weren't at his
cabin, it would still be a nice day for the beach.
    She drove slowly, admiring the lovely old houses. Midday's harsh sun might reveal peeling
paint, crumbling fascia and rotted soffit, but the early morning rays landed gently and blurred
flaws. She slowed by one of her favorites, an Italianate mansion that was far from the biggest house
in the Garden District, but one of the most graceful, and imagined a family safely asleep inside,
sheltered behind tall windows made golden by the sun.
    Even St. Charles Avenue was tranquil. No cluster of tourists waited in the median for a
streetcar. No herd of vehicles charged from stoplight to stoplight. A left under the overpass took
Claire onto the ramp that led to the elevated highway, and soon she'd left the city behind. The road
narrowed to four lanes, a cement ribbon cutting through swamp forests interspersed with open
water. Despite rumble strips on the shoulders, the heavy guardrails bore multiple scars from
encounters with vehicles steered by the overtired, the reckless, and the inebriated.
    She drove on automatic pilot, distracted by the challenge of refusing a proposal that had
never been made. With every mile traveled, the situation felt more ridiculous. Why tell Frank she
wouldn't marry him when he'd never mentioned the possibility? Not to her, but he'd told his
secretary and he'd told his best friend. Or had he?
    What if he was involved with someone else named Claire and everyone just assumed she
was that someone? But what explained a diamond watch worth thousands of dollars? The watch
was far too expensive a gift to accept from a client, no matter how wealthy or how apologetic, and
Frank would know that. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    Directions to Frank's fish camp lay on the passenger's seat. The watch sat in her glove
compartment. She had rehearsed what to say. She was nervous, but she'd taken her morning meds,
and the vial in her pants pocket held more if she needed it, which wasn't likely. She hadn't suffered
a full-fledged panic attack in months.
    Worst case, Frank wouldn't be there. No. Worse case, he'd laugh in her face.
    Her exit was in six miles.
    Off the highway, each turn led deeper into the country. Across cleared fields, barns and
houses seemed to hover in the mist. The fields gave way to forested wetlands, and the structures
disappeared. The pavement ended, reminding her that Frank had suggested she drive the company
truck. He always took his Jeep. She downshifted into second and drove slowly to avoid kicking up
gravel or scraping Felicia's low-slung underside.
    The last road, its dirt surface as bumpy as an old-fashioned washboard, ran along the top of
an obsolete levee. The river must have moved or been moved. On either side, the land dropped
away and ground fog turned treetops into leafy islands. Two hawks soared overhead. One dove into
the fog and emerged seconds later, a small bird dangling from its talons. Up on the left, tree trunks
painted with Frank's initials in bright orange marked the turn to his fish camp.
    She steered between them onto a narrow and rutted dirt track that snaked down the side
of the levee. As she descended, the fog closed in, the sun disappeared, and the temperature
dropped. She crept along, in first gear now, leaning forward and peering through the windshield,
but still unable to see more than a few feet ahead. Smoke mixed with the moldy forest smell and
thickened the fog--Frank must have built a fire to ward off the morning chill.
    The smell of smoke intensified and a lightening up ahead suggested a break in the trees.
She drove into a clearing where a dark silhouette emerged from the fog. The burned remains of a
small building sat atop blackened pilings. Ashes and charred rubble covered the ground. Fog
swirled through the wreckage and reached long fingers toward her.
    A silver