Read The Deadly Neighbors (The Zoe Hayes Mysteries) for Free Online Page B

sofa, eating ice cream from the carton in silence. Slowly, comforted by his closeness, I began to relax. If Nick was upset that I hadn’t told him about my father, he wasn’t going to admit it. Probably we wouldn’t discuss it further; we would simply move on, silently learning from the experience. He’d relax and warm up again in a day or two. For now, I’d have to give him some space, let him absorb the fact that I had some secrets, too. Relieved, sated with ice cream, I leaned against Nick. He sat with his arm wrapped around me, but his body felt oddly stiff, not our usual snuggle. I gazed up at him. Nick’s jaw was tight.
    “What, Nick?”
    “What do you mean, ‘what’?”
    “You’re angry.”
    “I’m not angry.”
    Then why did he seem distant? “Nick, what’s going on?” I shifted so I could face him and waited.
    Finally, he answered. “Okay, Zoe. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am angry. I’m trying not to be. I’m trying not to be controlling. But what you did today was beyond me.”
    “I said I was sorry—”
    “About your father. But I’m not mad about your father or family secrets or your privacy—”
    I sat up straight, defensive. “Then what are you mad about?”
    He sighed loudly, shifting his weight, sitting up straight. “Okay. Let’s do this. Let’s get into it. You took Molly to meet her grandfather today, right? And while you were there, she watched a violent struggle and saw a murder victim.”
    Right. She hadn’t had a great experience. “You’re angry about Molly? Molly’s tough. She’ll be okay. I’ll explain—”
    “You’ll explain? Zoe, she’s a kid—how are you going to explain this stuff to her?”
    I couldn’t, of course. No one could. “I’ll just be honest, Nick. Molly will be okay—”
    “How do you know? How can you be sure about what’s going on inside her head? How much violence do you think a kid can look at before it takes a toll on—”
    “Wait, so what are you saying?” I got defensive. “That it’s my fault? That I should have prevented it? How was I supposed to know that there would be a corpse in my father’s kitchen?”
    His eyes pierced mine. “It’s not just about that one corpse, Zoe.”
    It wasn’t? Then what was it about? What was he talking about? Oh, great, I thought. The past. Nick was going to list every traumatic event that Molly had ever been exposed to, implying that I hadn’t protected her well enough. That I wasn’t a good mother? Well, maybe he was right; Molly at six had witnessed more violence than most people would in their lifetimes. In the last year alone, she’d seen the work of a local serial killer and a murderous slave cartel. No question, she’d been exposed to far too much danger and gore. But I couldn’t change that. I was monitoring her closely, watching for signs of emotional damage. And Molly seemed, so far, to be incredibly fine.
    I braced myself for a tirade. But Nick didn’t bring up the past. In fact, he didn’t speak at all for a while. He sat quiet, brooding. Nick seemed very un-Nick-like. Uncertain. Unsteady. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. “When I walked into that house today, I saw you collapsed on a chair, covered with blood. Zoe, do you have any idea what I thought?”
    Oh, Lord. I hadn’t, no. How stupid was I? How self-centered? Why had it not even occurred to me? Nick must have thought I’d been stabbed. That the blood was mine. I leaned over and touched his face, reassuring him. “Oh, God—Nick. You thought he’d cut me? I’m sorry—I should have known. But I’m fine, Nick. Really—”
    He watched me, his jaw tightening again. “Zoe. That’s not quite the point.”
    It wasn’t? “Then what? Tell me.” I sat up straight and faced him. His eyes had darkened, turned steel-gray, and the scar on his cheek gleamed jagged and purple.
    “Christ, Zoe. How is it that you don’t see it? Don’t you get what could have happened today?”
    I began to