Read Truly, Madly for Free Online Page B

around that the ring wasn't too far from where I was parked now. I just needed clearer directions from this point.
    Vertigo washed over me, spinning my thoughts. Round and round, I fought the dizziness while trying to sort out street names, landmarks. Left at the intersection, left a side road, through a gated parking lot, up a paved trail, up a stone staircase, through a thick copse of trees . . .
    Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and sat up, my head still spinning. My stomach bobbed, and I switched off the heater and powered down my window. Cold blasted in. I took deep breaths.
    The vision hadn't changed the second time around.
    My cell phone rang, startling me. I glanced at the readout. Dovie again.
    I couldn't deal with her and her matchmaking right now.
    Starting the car, I followed the route my vision had mapped out. A few minutes later, my headlights slid across two metal gates that had closed off the small, dark parking lot for Great Esker Park.
    I idled, staring ahead to where the trailhead began, but didn't get out. I couldn't bring myself to do it. It was too dark. Too cold. Too creepy.
    My cell phone rang again, nearly scaring me out of my seat. The number that came up was unfamiliar. I didn't answer it, fearing it could be that annoying reporter or worse—Butch, the butcher.
    A second later, my phone beeped. I checked my voice mail. Something primal washed over me when I heard Sean Donahue's voice.
    So much for forgetting.
    ''Lucy, I wanted to let you know I'm still working on your request. I'm going to do a little more checking and will call you back in an hour or so.''
    He didn't say good-bye.
    A chill seeped into the car. I fussed with the heater, still unable to bring myself to get out of the car and poke around the area.
    One thought kept recurring as I sat there, trying to build courage.
    Was Jennifer dead?
    I stared at the woods rising up along a steep ridgeline. Who else would have access to Michael's ring? And he did say he hadn't seen her in years . . . that she'd essentially disappeared.
    And for some reason I couldn't stop thinking that Michael lived near here somewhere.
    How close?
    Spurred on by this thought, I drove back to the Dunkin' Donuts, rounded the drive-thru, and ordered that latte. As I paid the tired-looking cashier, I asked for directions to Michael's house, using the address from his portfolio.
    As I wound my way down side roads, I drove farther and farther away from the park. At least five miles.
    Turning left onto a dead-end road, I coasted, looking for the right house. Michael's was the corner house on a street of only ten homes. Dark woods loomed at the end of the street, the dismal light from an ancient street lamp not nearly enough to illuminate the whole area.
    I slowed in front of the small gambrel-style home, sparsely—but neatly—landscaped. No picket fence in sight.
    I'd answered my question—he lived nowhere near the park.
    I relaxed a little and finally admitted what I'd been afraid to even think. That Michael might be responsible for the skeleton being in the woods.
    It was time to go. The last thing I wanted was to get caught out here, snooping.
    As I rolled forward to make a three-point turn, like an apparition a figure came walking out of the woods at the end of the street. He was tall and had a dog prancing at his heels.
    My headlights outlined his face. It was Michael.
    Shit.
    There was nowhere for me to go. I was caught. Slowly, I rolled down the window.
    ''Ms. Valentine?'' he asked, squinting in the light of the street lamp. ''What are you doing here?''
    What was I doing here? ''Um, I, ah, like to see where my clients live. Get a better idea of who they are. And please call me Lucy.''
    He nodded appreciatively. ''Very thorough of you.''
    Thorough. Right. I could work with that.
    '' Lucy , this is Little Rabbit Foo Foo. I call her Foo for short,'' he added, rubbing the golden retriever's head.
    ''You didn't like her attitude?'' I asked, watching the way