Private Scandals

been scooped. “The night Angela Perkins was shot, Finn Riley’s house was broken into.”
    “No.” Still gripping the chair, she shifted, lowered herself before her legs buckled. “Finn didn’t—no one told me.” She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the kick of nerves in her stomach. When she opened them again, they were dark as pitch and burning dry. “But you will. I want to know what happened. Exactly what happened.”
    There was going to be more than a little tiff when Finn Riley returned, Jenner decided. As he related the facts, he watched her take them in. She winced once, as though the words were darts, then went very still. Her eyes remained level, and curiously blank until he had finished.
    She said nothing for a moment, leaning forward to pour more tea. Her hand was steady. Jenner admired her poise and control, particularly since he’d seen the ripple of horror cross her face.
    “You think that whoever’s been sending the notes, whoever broke into my office and my home, killed Angela.”
    It was a reporter’s voice, Jenner noted. Cool and calm and without inflection. But her eyes weren’t blank any longer. They were terrified. For some reason he remembered a report she’d done years before, a woman in the suburbs who’d been shot to death by her husband. Her eyes hadn’t been blank then, either.
    “It’s a theory,” he said at length. “It makes more sense for only one person to be involved.”
    “Then why not me?” Her voice broke, and she shook her head impatiently. “Why Angela and not me? If he was so angry, so violently angry with me, why did he kill her and leave me alive?”
    “She was in your way,” Jenner said briskly, and watched as the full impact struck Deanna like a blow.
    “He killed her for me? Oh Jesus, he did it for me.”
    “We can’t be sure of that.” Jenner began, but Deanna was already shoving out of her chair.
    “Finn. Good God, he could come after Finn. He brokeinto the house. If Finn had been there, he would have . . .” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “You have to do something.”
    “Miss Reynolds—”
    But she heard the sound of tires on gravel. She whirled, racing the dog to the door, shouting for him.
    Finn was already cursing the other car in the drive when he heard her call his name. His annoyance at the intrusion faded as he saw her sprint out of the house. She leaped trembling into his arms, choking back sobs.
    Finn gathered her close, his eyes hot and lethal as they skimmed over her shoulder to where Jenner stood on the porch. “What the hell have you done?”
     
    “I’m sorry.” It was the best Finn could think of to say as he faced Deanna across the living room. Jenner had left them alone. After, Finn thought bitterly, he’d dropped his bomb.
    “What for? Because I found out from Jenner? Or because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me in the first place?”
    “That it happened at all,” he said carefully. “And it wasn’t a matter of trust, Deanna. You’re barely out of the hospital.”
    “And you didn’t want to upset my delicate mental balance. That’s why the television is conveniently on the blink. That’s why you wanted to go to the store alone, and didn’t bring back the paper. We wouldn’t want poor little Deanna to hear any news that might upset her.”
    “Close enough.” He plunged his hands into his pockets. “I thought you needed some time.”
    “You thought. Well, you thought wrong.” She spun around, headed for the stairs. “You had no right to keep this from me.”
    “I did keep it from you. Damn it, if we’re going to fight, at least do it face to face.” He stopped her on the landing, grabbing her arm, turning her around.
    “I can fight when I’m packing.” She shook him off and stalked into the bedroom.
    “You want to go back, fine. We’ll go back after we’ve settled this.”
    She dragged an overnight case out of the closet. “ We don’t have to go anywhere. I’m going.” She tossed the case onto the bed, threw open the lid. “Alone.” In quick, jerky moves, she plucked bottles and jars from the dresser. “I’m going back to my apartment. I can get whatever I’ve left at your house later.”
    “No,” he said, very calmly, “you’re not.”
    She heaved a perfume bottle toward the open case. It bounced merrily on the bed.
    “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” With her eyes on his, she pried his fingers loose. “You lied to me, Finn. If Jenner hadn’t come out