A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(5)



"I can't abandon Maricela. I'm the one who dragged her over there, and she's shook up. She has to work," Gwen said.

"But you don't."

Gwen was quiet. Pricks of color stung Art's cheeks. Her silence was a reminder that his statement wasn't entirely true. They had needed her income the past few years, but that could change. Soon. He stood, crossed the room and leaned on the mantel. "Hopefully, in March..." He let his words trail off. He didn't want to fight again.

Art had been acting principal at St. Barnabas Lutheran School since September. At the end of this month, he would be reviewed and either get the job permanently, along with the commensurate raise, or he wouldn't. Gwen couldn't seem to understand he needed her help. The job was political, and like any candidate running for office, his family was under almost as much scrutiny as he was. Gwen couldn't, or wouldn't, show up for school events, run for a position on the PTA, or do any of the things necessary to romance the board of directors.

That morning he'd made what he thought was a simple request. Could she, please, attend a school orchestra concert next Friday night? It was one of the year's biggest events and he was giving a short address before it started. She'd said she was busy.

When he reminded her how important the wife of a St. Barnabas principal was, she reminded him she had a demanding job too. Then he'd committed the unpardonable sin, he suggested she quit when he got the new position. She'd frozen over like a shallow pond in below zero weather.

"I can't believe you're using what happened today to manipulate me. I repeat what I said this morning. I need to work. I want to work. I love my career. I'm not going to quit, go part time, or stay home and be the little woman behind the big man."

Her words bit like hail, and the temperature in the room dropped to that morning's frigid degrees.





Chapter Four


Gwen tapped out her frustration on the steering wheel. "What is going on up there? You'd think they were being dropped off for a six-month tour with the Peace Corp instead of six hours of school."

The twice-daily traffic jam at St. Barnabas Lutheran School reminded her of a herd of cattle headed for a watering hole. Mothers in minivans rattled their horns and jostled each other to best position their young.

"Everyone have their backpacks? Lunch?" Gwen said when she was able to pull forward. Art was the principal at St. Barnabas, so he took the kids to school on most days. Gwen was only called upon to be the designated driver on Mondays when he had an early breakfast meeting with the board. This also happened to be the only day Humboldt Realty had a meeting. Mondays were stressful.

"Just keep driving, Mom," Tyler said. "We'll jump and tuck and roll." Tyler was eleven, and the funny man in the family.

Emily, never one to be outdone by her older brothers, said, "I want to tuck and roll."

"You'll mess up your hair," Gwen said. "I'll stop."

She jockeyed to the curb. Tyler and Emily tumbled out of the back seat and Jason, her oldest, exited the shotgun position.

"You have your sister," Gwen said when Jason came around the driver side. "Take her to her classroom, please." Jason gave her a quizzical look. Emily was in third grade and had been walking to her class alone all school year, but Gwen's protective instincts were running wild. She and Art had decided not to tell the kids anything about the murder, no reason to give them nightmares too.

Gwen had been plagued with them since last week. Some revolved around the basement of the Laguna house. She'd find herself walking down the stairs, terrified, but wake before she discovered the source of her fear. In others, she found Emily instead of Sondra in the upstairs bedroom. She'd even experienced a return of the recurring dream she'd had all through her childhood and teen years. It had been years since she'd had that nightmare. She was trying hard to maintain a business-as-usual front for the kids, but they were smart. They could tell something was up.

Her children turned to walk toward the brick front building.

"Hey. Goodbye." She called after them.

Emily returned and wrapped her arms around Gwen's neck and leaned in for a sticky kiss. Tyler, smelling like soap and cereal, was next. Jason stooped; the top of his red head entered the window first. He pecked her on the cheek. He was getting so tall.

Then they were off. Jason loped with the awkward gait of a teen whose brain hasn't figured out how to handle the extra inches. The two towheads jogged to keep up with him. Gwen watched until they reached the double glass doors of the school. A car horn sounded. Work. She was late.

By the time she arrived at the office, there was standing room only in the conference room. She found a piece of wall to lean on next to Maricela.

"Anything interesting?" Gwen whispered.

"Taryn's talking about the murder again." Maricela looked sick.

"She's been fixated on it," Gwen said. "It's sad, but it's over. Time to move on."

"We need to be on high alert. Especially the women." Taryn Humboldt, the owner of Humboldt Realty, addressed the room. "I called around. The Texas police recommend establishing a buddy system. It's working at Western State Realty and in Concord Realty's Houston offices. Nothing has happened since they began taking precautions."

"You really think that's necessary?" John Gordon, forty-something with a fringe of black hair encircling a balding pate, reclined in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. He was one of only three male agents in the office.

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