Page 44 of Tightrope

“She was in love with the future that he promised her.”

“Did she blame you for his death?”

Amalie hesitated. “At the time. But you have to understand—she was devastated by what happened in Abbotsville. She had believed that Harding adored her and that they were going to be married and move to the Ringling show.”

“What makes you think,” Marcus asked evenly, “that Willa Platt doesn’t still blame you for Harding’s death?”

Amalie tensed. “I think she knows the truth now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Willa and I grew up together. Our friendship runs deep. She was devastated by what happened in Abbotsville but she said herself she’s had six months to think about it. She knows now that I’m telling the truth.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe that you want to believe that she’s telling you the truth.”

Amalie flashed him a steely smile. “Are you always this suspicious?”

“Always.”

“It must be a hard way to go through life.”

“You have no idea,” he admitted.

“Is that why you aren’t married? Has your obsession with finding a road map to the truth made it impossible for you to trust anyone, especially a lover?”

He felt as if she had just kicked him in the gut.

“I probably had that coming,” he said.

“Tell me,” Amalie said, “have you ever been wrong in your suspicions?”

“Sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Emotions complicate things,” he admitted. “Strong emotion is like a fog across the highway. I have to slow down and go through it very carefully in order to find the road on the other side.”

“Let me take a wild guess here. I’ll bet that while you’re taking your own sweet time picking a path through the fog, the woman you’re dating gives up on you and looks for someone else.”

The sign he had been watching for came up in the headlights. He slowed the speedster and turned onto the road that would take them to the Carousel.

“Let’s change the subject,” he said.

She smiled. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

“Are we finished with Abbotsville?” he asked.

She glanced at him. “Why?”

“Because I have a feeling there is something you’re not telling me.”

“I’m impressed. You’re right. There is one more thing I can tell you about Abbotsville, but you probably won’t believe me. To be honest, I’m not sure I trust my own memories of that night.”

“Try me.”

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