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He was beginning to get a picture of her that was disturbing. Far from the pose she affected on the
job, she was shy and introverted and frightened of him when it was just the two of them, alone.
"I have to go in," she said. "I hope Christabel will be all right. Judd, too."
"Why don't you look Gary Mays right in the eye and tell him you'll have him up for sexual
harassment if he doesn't back off?" he asked abruptly.
Her eyes almost popped. "It wouldn't work."
"It would. If you can stop a man, you can dominate him."
"Interesting philosophy," she said.
"Not mine. I read Juan Belmonte's autobiography. He was a famous bullfighter in the early 1900s. He
said it works as well with men as it does with bulls. It does."
"You'd know," she murmured dryly.
"Yes. I would."
She got out of the truck, a little slowly. "Thanks for the ride."
He scowled and peered at her closely. "Can you see me?" he asked unexpectedly.
She was surprised by the question. She smiled. "Sort of," she replied.
"You're nearsighted and you won't wear your glasses," he guessed.
She laughed. It sounded like silver bells tinkling. "And I can't wear contacts."
He studied her. Despite the tragedy of the day, she piqued his curiosity. "You're a puzzle. I've said
some things to you that I shouldn't have. You're not what I thought you were."
She was watching him with new respect. "Neither are you," she said.
"Think about what I said," he told her as he started the truck. "You don't have to take that sort of crap
from an assistant director. If you can't make him stop, let me know. I'll stop him."
She shrugged and managed a smile. "I'll keep in touch with Maude."
He nodded. He didn't say another word. Seconds later, he was on his way to the hospital.
Judd sat alone in the chapel. They'd let him in for a handful of minutes to look down on Christabel's
white, drawn little face. If he'd been able to get to a bar, he could have gone through a fifth of whisky
afterward. It was shocking to see her like that. She was hooked up to half a dozen monitoring
machines with a needle in her arm feeding her nutrients and apparently a nar-cotic for pain. There
was a tube coming out of her side to drain her chest. Perhaps it was the same tube they'd used to
reinflate the lung as well.
Not since she was sixteen had she been so badly hurt, and even then it wasn't this serious. There hadn't
been the risk that she could die from her father's brutal beating. This was different. She looked fragile
and helpless and so alone. Her big dark eyes were closed. There were dark circles under them. When
she breathed, he heard the slow rasp of fluid in her chest. Her lips were blue. She looked as if she'd
already died.
He'd touched her small hand with his big one and remembered the last thing she'd said to him before
Clark showed up. Tippy had told her that he'd been disgusted with her, that he hadn't wanted her
hanging on him, running after him with her heart on her sleeve. His eyes had closed with a shudder. If
she didn't make it, her last memory of him would be one of pain and betrayal.
It wasn't true. He wasn't disgusted. He lay awake nights remembering the passion they'd shared. He
missed her.
It was like being without an arm or a leg. He'd told her he didn't want anything permanent. Now the
choice might not be his anymore. He might be left alone, as he'd thought he wanted to be when he told
her he was getting the divorce.
Somewhere he remembered an old adage. Be careful what you want; you might get it. He looked at
Christabel's still body and saw the end of everything he loved.
A noise caught his attention. Grier was back. He sat down in the pew beside him, looking
uncomfortable.
"God's ticked at me," he told Judd on an audible sigh as he looked around him. "Maybe I'm jinxing
her by being in a chapel at all."
"God isn't vindictive," Judd replied heavily. "Usually He gives us a lot more leeway than we deserve."
"Your father was a minister, Crissy said," he commented.
Judd nodded.
"Shooting John Clark was harder on you than you expected," he replied quietly.
Judd glanced at him curiously. "Because my father was a minister?"
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