Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 01 - Spouse Trap Read Online Free

else—harder, I’m sure. And frankly, I’d love a night of doing nothing. I’m just bushed,” Madeline said, slouching back in the chair for emphasis.
    “I bet you are. Okay, then I’ll get out of your hair, if you’re sure you don’t need me for anything…”
    “Not a thing.”
    “Alright, Mrs. Ridley. I’ll see you in the morning.” Erma took one last glance around, making sure everything was in order before she backed out of the room.
    Madeline let out a deep sigh and mulled over the latest developments. So, Steven wouldn’t be coming home until late. Obviously trying to avoid her. As soon as she heard the back door close and Erma’s footsteps as she walked toward her cottage, Madeline jumped up and went through the bedroom she shared with Steven to his side of the master suite.
    After twelve years, Madeline knew Steven’s habits down to the smallest detail. She knew which luggage he used for short business trips; she knew what suits he would likely take to Dallas in late winter, and what kind of shirts, ties, shoes, etcetera. With one glance, she could see that Steven’s bag had already been packed for the trip. But it wasn’t there.
    From his dressing room, Madeline walked through the entry hall, past the living room and the dining room to the guest wing. Of the three guest rooms, she figured Steven would likely choose the one at the end of the hallway, the largest room with the best views, as far away from her as he could get.
    Sure enough, she found his bag and a suit of clothes arranged on a hook in the armoire. His toiletries had been moved from his bathroom and stood awaiting his arrival. Simultaneously mad and hurt, Madeline left the guest room and wandered like a stranger in her own home.
    In Steven’s mind, their marriage was over. But Madeline wasn’t prepared to see it end like this. There were far too many unknowns at this point, and there was no way she was going to let herself be painted with the brush of adultery until she could prove without a doubt that she was guilty. Or more precisely, that she wasn’t.

THREE
    After wandering aimlessly around her elegant home without noticing her surroundings, she found herself in Steven’s study. She stood in the doorway, picturing him sitting at his desk, the late afternoon sun filtering in from the window behind him. The memory of such a familiar sight caused Madeline to choke up. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she sank into the leather chair she had occupied countless times over the years.
    She wiped ineffectually at the tears as she recalled happier moments spent in this room—discussing travel plans, dinner parties, his latest achievements and her minor triumphs—all of which seemed so trivial in retrospect.
    As the light grew dimmer with the setting sun, Madeline reached over and switched on the desk lamp. With the illumination came a sudden urge to snoop, something she had never been the least inclined to do in the past. She rounded the desk and sat in Steven’s chair as she perused what little there was in plain sight.
    Finding nothing of interest on top of the desk, Madeline tried the center drawer. Everything was orderly; just a tray of pens, blank notepads taken from hotel rooms around the globe, and an ashtray from a famous restaurant in New York, filled with assorted unlabeled keys. She tried the top drawer on the left and found it full of software discs. The large drawer below was locked. She tried the other side.
    After picking through the top left drawer and finding nothing that implicated Steven in a hateful setup, Madeline tried the lower drawer. It appeared to be full of files pertaining to household expenses. She soon lost interest in the search.
    She contemplated trying the keys in the ashtray to see if any might open the locked drawer, but she discovered this kind of prying didn’t appeal to her. If Steven had any involvement in what transpired Saturday night, she seriously doubted he’d leave any evidence of it