Free Michael’s Wife by Marlys Millhiser Page A

watched. Laurel wandered off and no one paid her much attention.
    Once inside she slipped into the library where there was a clock on the mantelpiece. It was already 4:10! She decided to use the phone on the desk where she could watch them through the glass doors that led to the courtyard.
    She’d obtained the number of the “Sunny Rest” that morning from Phoenix information, and she put the second call through quickly. Raymond answered and she asked for Harley. The hand that held the phone trembled.
    â€œHarley? Yeah, he’s here. Harley, I think it’s the dame that called this morning.”
    â€œDoe Eyes? I knew you couldn’t forget me—they never do.”
    â€œHarley, this is serious. I need help.” She pictured the good-natured grin with relief.
    â€œWhat’d you do—get lost again?”
    â€œNo, I’m in Tucson and I have to get away. Harley, could you … would you come to Tucson tonight?”
    â€œTucson! That guy who came to get you live in Tucson? Devereaux?” He didn’t sound as if he was grinning now.
    â€œYes. Harley, I can’t talk now, but I have to get away.”
    â€œWhy don’t you just leave?”
    â€œIt’s not that simple. I don’t know anyone but you and the Devereaux’. Will you come? About midnight?”
    â€œLook at it from my angle, Doe Eyes—this all sounds kind of weird. You know? You’re going to have to tell me who you are and what this is all about.”
    â€œThey tell me I’m Laurel Devereaux, Michael’s wife. The rest I’ll explain.…”
    â€œWhat do you mean they tell you—don’t you know?”
    â€œHarley, I can’t explain it now; I will tonight—please come.”
    He swore in a perfectly audible whisper and then chuckled. “I’m a fool but … okay. Never let it be said I passed up a chance to do the Devereaux’ dirt. Where do I meet you?”
    â€œOutside the wall, on the road in front of the house. Do you think you can find the house?”
    â€œI know where it is. I’ll park the truck down the road and walk up. Never thought I’d get mixed up with a Devereaux woman. Wait a minute, I thought you didn’t know them. You were asking all those questions about.…”
    â€œI have to hang up now. Harley, please be here tonight.”
    They were all walking across the courtyard toward her, Michael carrying Jimmy on his shoulders. Consuela had joined them.
    When they came in she was in the entry hall and everyone but Laurel said good-bye to Michael as he left for the base. He didn’t even look at her. He brushed Consuela’s forehead with his lips, hugged his son and was gone. It took Consuela to quiet Jimmy’s sobbing.
    That night Laurel filled a purse with a comb, a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a lipstick, and the money Paul had given her. After changing into slacks, a sweater, flat shoes, and a warm jacket, she paced the big bedroom, waiting for midnight. She’d take no more of what belonged to the Devereaux’ than she had to. She didn’t need all those luxurious clothes. Wherever she was going, she wouldn’t be dressing for dinner. The only thing she regretted leaving behind was the bottle of foaming bath oil, too large to fit into her purse.
    Cautiously opening the door to the hallway, she peered at the clock on the wall above the telephone. It was only eleven. She took off the jacket and sat on the bed to wait it out.
    She felt excited and yet depressed. It would be such a relief to get away from these people, from Michael. What she was doing was wrong. But everyone would be happier if she left and she’d be happier. Could it be so wrong to make people happy? Michael obviously didn’t want her and Claire obviously wanted Michael. Well, she could have him. Although what he can see in her, I don’t know .
    And Jimmy would be better off without her. He had Consuela