Mercy

'That's right.'

She reached up and put another dish away in the cabinet. 'That's what Daddy told me. How did she die?'

He handed her a salad bowl. 'Why do you want to know?'

'I'm curious,' she admitted. 'If you think I'm being too intrusive, I won't ask any more questions.'

'No, it's okay. She died in a car crash.'

'Oh, Theo, I'm sorry. How long ago did the accident happen?'

'It wasn't an accident.'

There was absolutely no inflection in his voice. He might as well have been talking about a leaky faucet.

'No?'

He sighed. 'No, it wasn't an accident. You know what? This is the first time since it happened four years ago that I've said it out loud.'

She could tell by his demeanor that he wanted her to change the subject, but she wouldn't accommodate him. It wasn't morbid curiosity on her part. If it had taken him four years to be able to admit the truth, then maybe it was time he got it all out.

'It was a suicide?'

'Yes and no.'

He handed her another bowl. 'I don't think she meant to kill herself. At least not that way. My wife was taking the slow route.'

'Meaning?'

'Alcohol and drugs.'

She didn't say anything but waited until he continued.

'She mixed alcohol with all the pills and God knows what else already in her system. It was a lethal combination. At least that's what the autopsy report indicated. She was out of control behind the wheel. She drove the car over a bridge into the bay. A hell

of a way to end it, wouldn't you say?' He didn't wait for an answer. 'I doubt she even knew what was happening to her, and I thank God she didn't take anyone else with her.'

It took extreme discipline not to show any outward reaction to what he had just told her. Theo was a proud man, and she knew that if she showed any compassion or sympathy, he would close up on her, and she didn't want that to happen.

'Your friends and your family… do any of them know what really happened?'

'No,' he said. 'I'm pretty sure Nick guessed something was wrong, but he never said anything.'

'Maybe he was waiting for you to talk to him.'

'Yeah, maybe.'

She didn't know how far she should push. Leaning against the sink, she carefully folded the wet towel and asked, 'Do you

blame yourself?'

He shrugged, as though the question weren't important. 'I've come to terms with what happened. It sure convinced me I

wasn't cut out for marriage. L put everything in front of it. I should have been paying more attention to her, though. I was so

busy at work, putting in twenty-hour days, and I didn't notice what was going on at home. Hell, I knew she drank, but I didn't realize it had become a problem. I think that's called 'burying your head in the sand.' '

'She made the choice. I know I sound unsympathetic, but you didn't pour the pills or the alcohol down her throat. She did.'

'Marriage is a partnership,' he said. 'I didn't hold up my end of the agreement. She was… fragile. Yeah, fragile. She needed help, but I was too blind to see it. Maybe I didn't want to see it.'

'I think it's healthy that you're finally able to talk about what happened. Now maybe you can get rid of it.'

'Get rid of what?'

'The anger and the hurt and the guilt.'

'Don't turn shrink on me.' He handed her a spatula to put away, then drained the sink. 'There, I'm finished,' he said.

'Do you have any more questions, or can we move on?'

She wanted to ask him if he had loved his wife, but she didn't dare. She had pushed him as far as he was willing to go.

'Okay, we'll move on. Dinner's over.'

'Yeah?'

'I asked you to be patient until after dinner. Now I'd like you to tell me what you think about my clink.'

'I'm going to,' he promised. 'I'll be right back.' He left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

'What are you doing?' she called up the stairs.

'I'm gonna get my laptop and set it up in your library,' he called back. 'I've got to check my e-mail.' He paused at the top

of the stairs and looked down at her. 'Hopefully, I'll have some answers. Then we'll talk.'

Michelle went back into the kitchen and washed the countertops. When she was finished, she turned the light off and went upstairs. She stood in the doorway of her guest room. 'I'm going to take a shower. It's been a long day.'

He was bent over the bed, unlocking his attache case. He'd already unpacked his duffel bag. His clothes were folded on her dresser.

The room was a mess. There were boxes piled high in front of the windows facing the backyard. She hadn't bothered to dust

or vacuum the area rug, and she was pretty sure there were cobwebs in all the corners.

'I've been using this room for storage,' she said. 'And that old bed is going to give your back fits.'

'You think so?'

'You're longer than the bed,' she pointed out. 'And the mattress is lumpy.'

'Don't worry about it. I can sleep anywhere.'

'I'm still feeling guilty. I guess you could have my bed. It's king-sized.'

'Yeah?'

He stood and gave her the look. She recognized it instantly. She'd seen enough late-night movies and had been around

enough men on the prowl to recognize it. Theo made the look sexier than Mel Gibson did, and God only knew, she'd always

been a sucker for Mel.

'Stop it.' She laughed after she gave the order. 'Just stop it right now.'

He raised an eyebrow. Oh, God, now he was doing Cary Grant.

'Stop what?' he asked innocently.

What could she say? Stop looking at me as though I just asked you to get naked and have hot, mind-altering sex with me?

'Never mind,' she said. 'So do you want to?'

'Sleep in your bed? What an invitation.'

'Excuse me?'

'You want to share your bed?'

Oh, boy, did she want to. How long had it been since she'd been involved with a man? She couldn't remember. Probably

because it had ended in disaster and she had deliberately blocked the memory.

Slow and easy. Oh, boy.

Her throat felt like it was closing up on her. 'I don't think that would be a good idea.'

He took a step toward her. 'How come?'

If she were thirty years older, she would have thought she was having a hot flash. Her entire body felt as