Read The Secret Between Us for Free Online Page B

good news, as was, she discovered next, the absence of mention of the accident in the
Globe.
    Hearing steps on the stairs, she refolded the paper and poured coffee. She was spreading cream cheese on the bagel when her father joined her. He was his usual well-dressed self. Putting an arm around her, he gave her a squeeze, then reached for his coffee.
    “Better?” she asked after he had taken several swallows.
    “Oh yeah.” Other than bloodshot eyes, he had cleaned up well. “Thanks, sweetheart. You’re a lifesaver.”
    “Not quite,” she said and took the opening. “Grace and I were in an accident last night. We’re both fine—not a scratch—but we hit a man.”
    Her father was a minute taking it in, his face filled with concern, then relief, then uncertainty. “Hit?”
    “He was just suddenly there in front of the car. It was out on the rim road. Visibility was really bad.” When her father didn’t seem to follow, she prompted, “The rain? Remember?”
    “Yes, I remember. That’s awful, Deborah. Do we know him?”
    “He teaches history at the high school. Grace has him.”
    “Is he one of ours?”
    One of their patients? “No.”
    “How badly is he hurt?”
    She related what she knew.
    “Not life threatening, then,” her father decided as she had.
    He sipped his coffee. She was starting to think that she’d gotten off easy, when, with marginal sharpness and a rise in color, he asked, “How fast were you going?”
    “Well under the speed limit.”
    “But how could you not see him?”
    “It was pouring and dark. He wasn’t wearing reflective gear.”
    Her father leaned back against the counter. “Not exactly the image of the good doctor. What if someone thought you’d been drinking?” His eyes met hers. “Were you?”
    I wasn’t driving,
she nearly said, but settled for a quiet, “Please.”
    “It’s a fair question, sweetheart. Lord knows, you have cause to drink. Your husband left you with a huge house, huge responsibilities, huge
wine
cellar.”
    “He also left me with a huge bank account, which makes the huge house doable, but that’s not the point. I don’t drink, Daddy. You know that.”
    “Did the police issue a citation?”
    Her stomach did a little flip-flop—possibly from the word, more likely from the increased edge in her father’s voice. “No. They didn’t see any immediate cause. They’re doing a full report.”
    “That’s swell,” Michael remarked dryly. “Does the man have family?”
    “A wife, no kids.”
    “And if he ends up with a permanent limp, you don’t think he’ll sue?”
    Mention of a lawsuit, coming on the heels of the word
citation,
both evidence of her father’s disappointment, made Deborah’s stomach twist. “I hope not.”
    Michael Barr made a dismissive sound. “Lawsuits have little to do with reality and everything to do with greed. Why do you think we pay what we do for malpractice insurance? We may be totally in the right, but the process of proving it can cost thousands of dollars. Naïveté won’t help, Deborah.” He snorted. “This is the kind of discussion I’d expect to have with your sister, not with you.”
    And guess what she’s done now?
Deborah wanted to cry in a moment of silent panic, but she just said, “She’s doing great.”
    “A baker?” he tossed back. “Do you know the kind of hours she works?”
    “They’re no worse than ours.” Deborah had hired a nanny. Jill could, too—actually, Jill didn’t have to. She lived above the bakery. She could set up a nursery in the back room and have the baby with her all the time. She could even have one of her employees help out. They had almost become like family.
    “She can barely make ends meet,” Michael argued. “She knows nothing about business.”
    “Actually, she does,” Deborah said.
    But her father had moved on. “You’ve called Hal, haven’t you? He’s the best lawyer around.”
    “I don’t need a lawyer. I’ll file a report today, and that’s