Holly sighed unhappily. “I haven’t got any ID, or even my purse. That’s why I had to take a taxi.”
“Uh--huh,” he muttered dubiously. “And you have the house, but were staying at the hotel because . . . ?”
“I wasn’t staying at the hotel, I was—-” Holly cut herself off, unsure how to describe what she’d been doing at the hotel. Of course, the driver took it completely the wrong way.
“Right,” he said, looking her over in her borrowed clothes. There was a touch of disgust in his expression. “So maybe your husband won’t want to be paying for your return journey from your little tryst.”
“It wasn’t a tryst,” she said wearily. “I—-”
“Okay. Go on in and bring me back the money.”
Holly blinked at the driver’s about--face. He was smiling at her now, all signs of the disgust of just moments ago gone. It was as if someone had taken control of him and . . . She glanced to the door as the locks were released with a click, and then quickly opened her door and slid out, eager to escape before he changed his mind. She was almost to the front door before Holly recalled that she didn’t have her keys with her. It would mean knocking at her own door.
She started to raise her hand to do so and then suddenly checked the door instead, both relieved and annoyed when it opened easily under her touch. James was forever leaving the door unlocked. Pushing down the irritation that tried to claim her, Holly turned to smile and wave at the taxi driver, then slid inside. She left the door open so he wouldn’t get nervous that she was pulling a “runner.”
“James?” she called, heading for the kitchen. She kept small bills and change in a jar there for emergencies, and automatically moved that way as she called his name again. Holly didn’t wait for a response, but fetched the money she needed and then hurried back outside to pay the driver. He accepted the bills with a smile, wished her a good day and drove happily away.
Holly stared after him briefly, completely bewildered by his sudden change in attitude, but then hurried back inside, nearly running into James as he came off the stairs.
“Holly,” he said with a smile, catching her arms to steady her. “I didn’t think you’d get in before I left.”
Holly blinked at his words, confusion rising within her. “What?”
“I already ate. Spaghetti,” he said. “But I made enough for you too. It’s in the fridge. Just nuke and enjoy.” Leaning forward he kissed her forehead, then set her aside and started up the hall, headed for the kitchen.
Holly stared after him for a minute and then followed. “Wait. James?”
“Hmm?” he asked over his shoulder as he stopped in the kitchen to retrieve his lunch pail.
“I wasn’t here this morning when you got home from work,” she pointed out.
“Or yesterday morning or night either,” he agreed easily and shrugged as he turned to cross to the door to the garage. “I wasn’t surprised. You did say the mortuary’s taxes were a mess. I figure you’ll be working a lot of overtime and starting early.” He paused with one hand on the door to the garage and glanced to her with concern. “You won’t have to work on the weekend though, will you? We have that dinner with Bill and Elaine Saturday night.”
“I . . . no,” she said with a frown.
“Oh, good.” He smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning then . . . well, if you haven’t left early again,” he added with a chuckle, and then slid out into the garage and pulled the door closed.
Holly just stood there staring at the connecting door to the garage as she listened to the whir of the outer door rolling up and the engine of James’s pickup starting.
He’d said she hadn’t been home that morning or the one before. That meant she’d been unconscious in that hotel room with Justin for two nights and days . . . and her husband hadn’t even noticed she’d been missing other than to assume she was working late and starting early. She’d been concerned that he was sitting here worrying about her, and that was when she’d thought she’d only been unconscious for one night and day. She could have been dead from the fall and he wouldn’t have known. Had he even texted her?