He caught himself. If he forced his way in, then Sylvia would believe every lie Jessica had told her about him. He drew in a deep, calming breath and rolled his shoulders.
“You can draw more flies with honey than with vinegar.”One of his dad’s pet sayings rang in his head.
Patrick had learned well from his dad how to get what he wanted, but he’d always been more partial to turning on the charm then turning up the heat method. Patience was not his strong suit.
He turned toward the street at the sound of a vehicle approaching. A momentary weakness threatened his legs at the sight of a white Chevy Tahoe with the word Sheriff emblazoned across the side in large black letters.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since two officers arrested Patrick at his home in front of his gawking neighbors. They’d hauled him to the police station and fingerprinted and photographed him like a common criminal.
An officer wearing sunglasses climbed from the SUV and started up the walk.
Patrick wiped clammy hands down his slacks.Play it cool. If you act guilty, he’ll think you’re guilty.
He sized up the officer as he approached. Tall—at least two inches taller than his own five foot ten inches. Solid, rugged build. Something about the broad shoulders and dark hair looked vaguely familiar, but Patrick couldn’t figure out why. He was certain he’d never seen the man before.
How could he? He’d never stepped foot in this backwoods town before.
If he had his way, as soon as he had Jessica, he’d never come back to this Podunk town again.
“Can I help you?” The officer stopped an arm's length away.
Patrick licked his dry lips and swallowed hard. The man had at least twenty pounds of pure on Patrick. The snug fit of the sheriff’s uniform wasn’t caused by a bullet-proof vest.
Sheriff.
According to the gold star on his chest, Sylvia hadn’t called a lowly deputy. She’d called in the top dog.
Smiling, Patrick extended his hand. “I sure hope so. I’m Patrick Pendleton, Sylvia’s son-in-law. I’m trying to tell her I’m worried about my wife, but she won’t open the door.”
The sheriff ignored his outstretched hand. “Why are you worried about your wife?”
Patrick dropped his hand. “She’s missing.”
The door clicked, then eased open. Sylvia poked her head out. “Jessie isn’t missing. She left you because you put her in the hospital.”
Hospital.
The officers who arrested him last night had mentioned a medical report that stated a concussion and a broken wrist, but they hadn’t said Jessica had to stay in the hospital.
Maybe he’d overdone it by breaking her wrist, but how dare she press charges against him for assault? She deserved the punishment she got. She had no right to question him about Tina.
He clenched his teeth and drew in a long breath through his nose, trying to tamp down the fury rising in him. He couldn’t lose his cool in front of the sheriff.
He turned imploring eyes on Sylvia. “I admit, I may have been a little harsh with Jessica, but I love her. I need to tell her how sorry I am.”
“A little harsh? You broke her wrist!” Sylvia’s penetrating gaze pierced him.
An uncomfortable tightness gripped his chest. “Please, Sylvia. Let me talk to her so we can work this out.”
“I’ll do no such thing. You’re supposed to stay away from her.”
“I can’t... I can’t live without—” Patrick stopped himself as a bitter taste filled his mouth. He’d meant the words as a platitude, but the crawling sensation that swept over his skin attested to their truthfulness.
How on earth had he become so obsessed with Jessica? He should be glad she’d left, then he wouldn’t have to hide his relationship with Tina. But right now, he didn’t want Tina. He wanted his wife back.
He set his jaw and choked out his next words. “Please let me make this right with Jessica.” He turned a soulful look on Sylvia.
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed as she regarded him.
