Wednesday's Child
FROM AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR GAYLE WILSON comes a gripping tale of tension-filled romance and heart-stopping suspense.IT WASN'T OVER YET Susan Chandler's husband vanished without a trace…along with their one-year-old daughter. Now, seven years later, their car has been pulled from a river in some backwater Mississippi town, along with the body of her husband and an empty baby seat. The local sheriff is calling it an accident, but for Susan, things just don't add up.Major Jeb Bedford has one thing on his mind–to get his body back into working order and rejoin his Delta Force team ASAP. But Susan Chandler's quiet desperation echoes his own struggles. And somehow, protecting Susan and helping her discover the truth becomes more important than anything…
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Rave reviews for In Plain Sight
“Gayle Wilson is one of the best romantic suspense writers in the business.”
—Chronicle Herald (Halifax, Nova Scotia)
“In Plain Sight sizzles from start to finish. I couldn’t put it down.”
—New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers
“Wilson’s novel mesmerizes from first page to the last, with chilling twists and a compelling plot.”
—Romantic Times
“Gayle Wilson pulls out all the stops to give her readers a thrilling, chilling read that will give you goose bumps in the night.”
—ReadertoReader.com
More praise for Gayle Wilson
“Gayle Wilson is one of the Divine Ones, a writer who combines impeccable craft with unsurpassed storytelling skills. Her books are dark, sexy and totally involving. I can’t recommend her enough.”
—bestselling novelist Anne Stuart
“Gayle Wilson will go far in romantic suspense. Her books have that special ‘edge’ that lifts them out of the ordinary. They’re always tautly written, a treare trove of action, suspense and richly drawn characters.”
—New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard
“Rich historical detail, intriguing mystery, romance that touches the heart and lingers in the mind. These are the elements which keep me waiting impatiently for Gayle Wilson’s next book.”
—USA TODAY bestselling author BJ James
“Writing like this is a rare treat.”
—Gothic Journal
Also by Gayle Wilson
IN PLAIN SIGHT
DOUBLE BLIND
Monday’s child is fair of face.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
Wednesday child is full of woe.
Thursday’s child has far to go.
Friday’s child is loving and giving.
Saturday’s child works hard for its living.
But the child that’s born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
To Meg Ruley
for her continuing support and enthusiasm
for my work,
for always being there when I need her,
and for having the most wonderful laugh
in the entire world.
Thank you!
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
WORKING FOR an almost artistic perfection, he draped the body over the steering wheel, carefully aligning the top of the head with the starred crack he’d created in the wind-shield. He was almost finished. And as soon as he was—
There was a rustling from the bushes behind him. He backed out of the car so quickly he slammed his head into the top of the door frame. Stifling a curse, he peered into the darkness, hardly daring to breathe. For endless seconds he waited, but there was no repetition of whatever he’d heard.
Coon, he thought. Or maybe a beaver, although he hadn’t heard the distinctive slap and glide into the river. Something that wasn’t human, in any case. And humans were the only witnesses he cared about.
He eased back through the open door of the SUV, being careful this time to duck below its frame. He tried to position the corpse higher over the wheel, but its dead weight and the angle he was working from made that impossible.
It doesn’t matter, he told himself. This body wasn’t going to be found. Trying to place it so the location of the head wound made some kind of sense was simply a precaution.
But then, he was a careful man by nature. Nothing left to chance. Nothing forgotten.
He took one last look around the interior of the car, his eyes searching with the aid of the bright moonlight for anything he might have overlooked. That, too, was unnecessary. He’d gone over the car with a fine-tooth comb. And he’d found what he’d been sent to retrieve. The river would take care of any other evidence. Just as it would take care of the marks on the body. And even if it were found—
But it wouldn’t be. He intended to make sure of that.
He reached across the driver’s seat, leaning in behind the corpse, to locate by feel the lever of the emergency brake. His fingers closed around it as his thumb depressed the release. Despite the angle at which it was parked, the car didn’t move.
His cheeks puffed slightly with the breath of relief he released. So far so good.
Satisfied that everything was going as planned, he withdrew his torso from the vehicle to take one more slow survey of his surroundings, evaluating the stillness. He’d been out here long enough that the normal night sounds along the river had resumed. Tree frogs and crickets. The occasional plop of a fish jumping. From the distance came the throaty call of an owl.
Satisfied, he eased the door closed, pushing hard enough at the last to make sure the latch caught. Again he listened, but other than a slight hesitation in the nocturnal symphony, there had been no reaction to the noise.
He’d driven the SUV off the bridge entrance and parked it on the reinforced slope leading down to the river. If he had left the headlights on—as he’d thought about doing in order to monitor its descent—they would now be shining down into the swift, rain-swollen current. All he needed was a little luck. And if he got it, the car would never be seen again.
