Public Secrets

twisting.
“I told you not to run away from me, Emma.” Drew slipped a hand around her throat and squeezed. “I told you I’d find you.”
“Emma!” Michael caught her flailing arms and pulled her close. “Wake up. Emma, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
She couldn’t get her breath. Even when she realized where she was and who was holding her, it seemed that Drew still had his hands locked around her throat.
“The light.” She dragged the words out. “Please, turn on the light.”
“All right. Hang on.” He shifted, dragging her with him as he hit the switch. ’There. Now look at me. Emma, look at me.” He put a hand firmly under her chin and held it. She was still shuddering, and in the gleam of the lamp her face was marble-white, sheened with sweat. “It was a dream,” he said quietly. “You’re with me.”
“I’m all right.”

He pulled the sheet up around her shivering shoulders. “I’m going to get you some water.” When she nodded he slipped out of bed into the adjoining bath. Emma brought her knees close to her chest, listening to the sound of water hitting glass. She knew where she was. In the hotel room with Michael. She’d wanted one night alone with him before he went back to the States. Though she knew it had only been a dream, she lifted a hand to her throat. She could still feel the grip of Drew’s fingers.
“Drink a little.”
She sipped. It didn’t burn as she’d feared. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
He wasn’t interested in apologies. Nor did he want her to know he was as shaken as she. She’d sounded as though she had been choking in sleep, trying to gasp for air that was trapped in her throat.
“How often do you have these?”
“Too often.”
“Is this why you wouldn’t ever spend the night with me before?”
She moved her shoulders and looked miserably into the glass.
“You’re too beautiful to be a jerk, Emma.” He shoved the pillows into place and pulled her back beside him. “Tell me about it.”
When she’d finished, he continued to stare into middle distance. She was calm now. He could feel it in each easy breath she took. He was wired tight.
“The letter probably set it off,” she murmured. “I used to pray that the nightmares would stop. Now I don’t want them to. I want to see. I want to get through the door and see.”
He turned his head to press his lips to her hair. “Do you trust me?”
His arm was firm around her, not holding her down. Just holding her. “Yes.”
“I’m going to do everything I can to find out who’s responsible for your brother’s death.”
“It was so long ago.”
“I’ve got some ideas. Let me see if I can put them together.”
She rested against him, wishing she could go on forever beside him, her head cushioned on his shoulder. “I know I said I’d go back with you if you wanted. But I need to stay. I have to talk to Katherine. I need a few weeks.”

He said nothing for a moment, adjusting himself to the idea of being without her. “While you’re here, think about whether you could handle being married to a cop.” He turned her face up to his. “Think about it hard, will you?”
“Yes.” She slid her arms around him. “Make love with me, Michael.”

T HE CLUB WAS noisy, filled with young bodies stuffed into tight jeans. Snug, short skirts barely covered the hips of long-legged girls. The music was hard and loud, the liquor watered. But the club was packed, the dance floor jammed. Colored lights whirled, distorting faces. Couples standing hip to hip had to shout to communicate. Drugs and money exchanged hands as casually as phone numbers.
It wasn’t what he was used to. It certainly wasn’t what he preferred. But he had come. He squeezed into a small corner table and ordered a Scotch.
“If you’d wanted to talk, you could have picked a better spot.”
His companion grinned and downed a whiskey. “What better place for secrets than in public?” He lit a cigarette with a monogrammed gold lighter. “The grapevine has it that Jane slipped something by you.”
“I know about the letter.”
“You know, and didn’t think it was worth mentioning?”
“That’s right.”
“It won’t do to forget that what concerns you concerns me.”
“The letter only implicates Jane, not you, or me. Since she’s dead, it hardly matters.” He paused, waiting until the waitress had set down his drink. “There’s something else that may be more pressing. Emma’s having troubling dreams.”
The man laughed and