Free The Witness by Sandra Brown Page A

be there." Her voice took on a soft huskiness
     
"She died four months ago. Just a few weeks before Kevin was born.
     
He digested that. "Were you with her?"
     
"No. I was . . . away. And too close to attend her funeral."
     
"You two were close?"
     
"More than close. We shared an extraordinary relationship."
     
His evident interest encouraged her to continue. "My mother and father were killed in an accident when I was five. Grand mother became my guardian. My grandfather had already died, so it was just the two of us. The bond between us was very strong."
     
"Did I know her? Have I been to her house before?"
     
She shook her head.
     
"How much farther?"
     
Sighing, she rolled her head around her shoulders. "Please stop asking me that. It won't get us there any sooner. I'd like to get there before dark, and the time would pass much faster for you if you would sleep. You need the rest."
     
He had taken three aspirins, which had dulled his headache and reduced the soreness of his muscles, but he still felt like he had been tenderized with a meat mallet. With the intention of resting his eyes for just a moment, he relaxed back against the headrest.
     
Hours later, when he woke, it was dusk and they had reached their destination.
     
The house was situated at the end of a lane that was lined with grapevines and honeysuckle bushes. The rain had abated, so as they approached the house, Kendall rolled down the car window and breathed deeply of the mingled fragrances, the sweet smells of summer. Memories of her childhood assailed her. Homesickness for her grandmother squeezed her heart like pincers.
     
It had grown dark beneath the trees in the surrounding forest. Lightning bugs winked at her from the leafy shadows.
     
She almost expected to hear Grandmother's voice calling her to come see this galaxy of glowworms.
     
The house was a frame structure with a composite roof that extended over a wide porch. It could have used a coat of paint, and the yard needed attention, but otherwise it was remarkably unchanged since her last visit.
     
Except that her grandmother wasn't there and never would be again.
     
Gravel crunched beneath the tires as she brought the car to a stop. He woke up, yawned, stretched, and peered through the gloom to get his bearings.
     
Kendall opened her door and got out, for the moment leaving Kevin asleep in his infant seat. She jogged up the front steps, then stood on tiptoe to reach the key that had always been kept above the doorjamb.
     
She located it and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open. Hoping for the best, she reached for the light switch on the wall. When the lights came on, she breathed a sigh of relief. Ricki Sue had continued paying the utilities bills.
     
Swiftly she moved through the rooms. Sheets covered the furniture, and the house smelled musty from being uninhabited, but she would shortly have it livable for only as long as she and Kevin would be there.
     
She returned to the living room. He had followed her inside and was standing propped on his crutches, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings.
     
"Like it?"
     
He gave a noncommittal shrug.
     
"I know it doesn't look like much now, but I'll fix it up."
     
The statement evoked a memory that was realistic.
     
Almost word for word, it echoed a statement she had made on her wedding night.
     
Chapter 6
     
Matt swung open the front door. "What a wonderful wedding! The muscles of my face are aching from smiling so much." When he realized that Kendall hadn't followed him into the house, he looked back at her curiously. "What is it?"
     
"Call me a foolish romantic, but I've always dreamed of my bridegroom carrying me across the threshold."
     
"You are a foolish romantic." Smiling, he scooped her into his arms. "But that's just one of the many things I love about you."
     
He carried her inside. Kendall placed her hand behind his neck and drew him down for a long, meaningful kiss, one she knew she would remember for