Free Night of Shadows by Marilyn Haddrill, Doris Holmes

that. No woman has ever won out over his work yet. In
fact, no one has even come close."
    "Why would any woman in her
right mind even want to try?"
    Melinda pointedly turned her
attention back to the living room. It was plain that Joan had not been allowed
a hand in the decorating. It was a man's house. The multi-colored brown
and beige carpeting and heavy oak, ranch-style furniture gave a feeling
of solid comfort. But there were no floral arrangements or other feminine
touches.
    "Wouldn't you like to see the
library?" Preston suggested.
    He led her down the hall and into a
room filled with hundreds of volumes lining the bookcases. Books and magazines
about horses and racing were in a section nearest to her. The opposite wall
contained a glass case loaded with trophies won at horse racing events and
shows.
    With a wave of his hand, Preston
dismissed the trade books and trophies.
    "That probably wouldn't
interest you," he said. "Over there is the fiction."
    Melinda joined Preston at the
opposite side of the library, where he peered at the shelves as if seeing those
particular books for the first time.
    "Joan's," he said shortly.
"I never paid much attention to them before."
    His eyes scanned the titles
hungrily as he read. " Love in the Spring , The Fantasy World of
Mary Harper , Arms of Destiny ..."
    Preston reached out and thumbed
through a novel that seemed typical of Joan's tastes as Melinda remembered them
— oriented towards love and adventure. Preston half smiled to himself as he
scanned the pages, and paused over some of the passages.
    "I never realized," he
said, half to himself. "Joan was — is — quite a romantic."
    Melinda watched Preston's tender
expression as he eagerly grasped the book, almost as if he hoped to find Joan
by perusing words she had once read. It seemed rather late for a husband to
discover something as important about his wife as her reading tastes.
    Melinda found herself thinking that
even her sister's friends knew Joan better than her own mate. Suddenly, she had
an idea.
    "Preston!" she exclaimed.
    He looked up from the book as she
touched his shoulder in her eagerness.
    "What about Joan's friends she
was traveling with when she moved here? Are they still around here?"
    He nodded. "We're in touch. They're
both still working in Ruidoso, in fact. But I wouldn't get too excited, if I
were you. I've talked to them already. They don't know anything."
    He slammed the book he was holding
shut, and put it back on the shelf. "They used to visit here — quite
often, in fact. Did you know Debbie and Connie?"
    Melinda tried to quell her negative
feelings. She remembered them only as irresponsible, immature airheads who had
lured Joan away from college to join them in their stupid adventure.
    "I met them once."
    She recalled, too, that during those
travels Joan's so-called friends had helped deplete her sister's share of
their parents' trust money meant for schooling. Joan now had no easy means of
returning to college. Preston watched Melinda, and must have seen the dark
thoughts mirrored in her face.
    "You're probably thinking that
if Joan had never let herself get talked into leaving college, she would have
never met me. And none of this would have happened."
    Melinda half shrugged, making no
comment. Of course she felt that way. But dwelling on the past wasn't doing her
any good. What she needed right now was a clue — a place to start.
    "Maybe Debbie and Connie are
overlooking something," Melinda said hopefully. "Those two had a lot
of influence on Joan, as you well know."
    "Believe me, Melinda. I, of
all people, know that. It never changed."
    Preston's weary tone alerted her. She
turned to face him. "You said they came here often. Did they have some
reason? Other than friendship, I mean."
    "Debbie had her own reasons."
He looked at Melinda meaningfully, but her blank expression must have shown she
did not understand the implication. Preston sighed.
    "Well — it's like this. Personally
I don't