Read Online Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 01 - Spouse Trap by Cynthia Hamilton - Free Book Online Page B
Book: Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 01 - Spouse Trap by Cynthia Hamilton
Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cynthia Hamilton
Ads: Link
wallet.
“I had to put some of the bags on the passenger’s side—hope that’s alright,” Justin said as Madeleine slid a ten into his hand.
“That’s fine,” she said, slipping into her low-slung sports car. She fished out her sunglasses and took stock of all the loot she had acquired. Instead of giving her the customary thrill, the evidence of such useless spending dampened her mood. While pretending to make sure everything was accounted for, she checked the immediate environs for signs of Steven’s P.I. She began feeling a little panicky as she started out of the lot, but just before turning right onto Carrillo, she glimpsed a silver Honda through the hedge in the public lot adjacent to Saks.
She couldn’t say for sure it was Barnett, so instead of going straight down Carrillo to the freeway, she waited for the pedestrians to cross, then turned right up Chapala. While she waited for the light to turn green at Figueroa, the silver Accord exited the public lot. This made her breathe easier.
As an excuse for heading this direction, Madeline pulled up in front of the Wine Hound. After purchasing a couple bottles of wine that she didn’t need, she got back in her Porsche, but not before making Barnett’s sedan.
With private dick in tow, Madeline headed for the freeway. She went through the lights and merged onto 101 unaware of her actions; her mind was a seething stew of information and new concerns.
It was almost 1:30 and she was famished. Problem was, she was in too vulnerable a state and didn’t want to go home. Home , she thought; not for much longer.
There was another more practical reason for not wanting to go back up the hill just yet; it went against her sense of decorum to show up at the house with her car packed with proof of her shopping extravaganza. She didn’t want Erma and Hughes thinking any worse of her than they already did.
With all the worries dancing around her head, she almost missed her exit. As she sat at the stop sign waiting for traffic to pass, she got an idea better than creeping around her own home like a thief. Instead of turning left, she cranked the wheel and executed a quick right, toward Miramar Beach.
Though hiding out at the beach appealed to her desire for privacy, once she was standing in the entry, the bungalow felt far too confining. It had been closed up since the weekend and the winter sun made the place feel as though all the oxygen molecules had expired. She opened a few windows to get a cross breeze going and opened the blinds on the east side of the house to let some light in. She’d always loved this house, but the thought of living there in exile for six months made her edgy.
She needed to put her thoughts in order and digest her meeting with Burt Latham, and this was as good a place as any. But she also needed to eat. She was starting to feel lightheaded and she knew there was nothing there to eat except for some stale crackers and martini olives. She stood in the middle of the living room for another minute as she willed herself into action. She shuffled her priorities, and after stuffing her day’s purchases in the hall closet, went in search of something to eat.
ELEVEN
As Madeline pulled into the breezeway of the Montecito Inn, she caught sight of friends sitting at a table by the window. Oh damn, she thought, tempted to keep going. But Jane had spotted her and she had no choice but to relinquish her car to the valet.
When she walked into the Montecito Café, Jane had already annexed another chair from a neighboring table to make a place for her. Madeline covered her disappointment with a bright smile and joined the party already in high-squawk mode.
“Hello, stranger,” Jane greeted her, giving her a quick hug. “We’ve only just ordered—your timing is perfect.” The waitress appeared wearing an expression of anticipation.
“Can I get you something to drink, Mrs. Ridley? A glass of Brander Sauvignon Blanc?”
“Thanks, Barbara, that’d
“I had to put some of the bags on the passenger’s side—hope that’s alright,” Justin said as Madeleine slid a ten into his hand.
“That’s fine,” she said, slipping into her low-slung sports car. She fished out her sunglasses and took stock of all the loot she had acquired. Instead of giving her the customary thrill, the evidence of such useless spending dampened her mood. While pretending to make sure everything was accounted for, she checked the immediate environs for signs of Steven’s P.I. She began feeling a little panicky as she started out of the lot, but just before turning right onto Carrillo, she glimpsed a silver Honda through the hedge in the public lot adjacent to Saks.
She couldn’t say for sure it was Barnett, so instead of going straight down Carrillo to the freeway, she waited for the pedestrians to cross, then turned right up Chapala. While she waited for the light to turn green at Figueroa, the silver Accord exited the public lot. This made her breathe easier.
As an excuse for heading this direction, Madeline pulled up in front of the Wine Hound. After purchasing a couple bottles of wine that she didn’t need, she got back in her Porsche, but not before making Barnett’s sedan.
With private dick in tow, Madeline headed for the freeway. She went through the lights and merged onto 101 unaware of her actions; her mind was a seething stew of information and new concerns.
It was almost 1:30 and she was famished. Problem was, she was in too vulnerable a state and didn’t want to go home. Home , she thought; not for much longer.
There was another more practical reason for not wanting to go back up the hill just yet; it went against her sense of decorum to show up at the house with her car packed with proof of her shopping extravaganza. She didn’t want Erma and Hughes thinking any worse of her than they already did.
With all the worries dancing around her head, she almost missed her exit. As she sat at the stop sign waiting for traffic to pass, she got an idea better than creeping around her own home like a thief. Instead of turning left, she cranked the wheel and executed a quick right, toward Miramar Beach.
Though hiding out at the beach appealed to her desire for privacy, once she was standing in the entry, the bungalow felt far too confining. It had been closed up since the weekend and the winter sun made the place feel as though all the oxygen molecules had expired. She opened a few windows to get a cross breeze going and opened the blinds on the east side of the house to let some light in. She’d always loved this house, but the thought of living there in exile for six months made her edgy.
She needed to put her thoughts in order and digest her meeting with Burt Latham, and this was as good a place as any. But she also needed to eat. She was starting to feel lightheaded and she knew there was nothing there to eat except for some stale crackers and martini olives. She stood in the middle of the living room for another minute as she willed herself into action. She shuffled her priorities, and after stuffing her day’s purchases in the hall closet, went in search of something to eat.
ELEVEN
As Madeline pulled into the breezeway of the Montecito Inn, she caught sight of friends sitting at a table by the window. Oh damn, she thought, tempted to keep going. But Jane had spotted her and she had no choice but to relinquish her car to the valet.
When she walked into the Montecito Café, Jane had already annexed another chair from a neighboring table to make a place for her. Madeline covered her disappointment with a bright smile and joined the party already in high-squawk mode.
“Hello, stranger,” Jane greeted her, giving her a quick hug. “We’ve only just ordered—your timing is perfect.” The waitress appeared wearing an expression of anticipation.
“Can I get you something to drink, Mrs. Ridley? A glass of Brander Sauvignon Blanc?”
“Thanks, Barbara, that’d
Similar Books
