When Never Comes

by Barbara Davis

was a gash on her forehead, and a sickening depression along her right temple. Her eyes were open and glazed, a piercing shade of violet with fixed, bottomless pupils. She was also naked from the waist up, her breasts so full and round they couldn’t possibly have been formed by nature. Christine found herself unable to look away. A prostitute? A one-night stand? A casual dalliance or something more? And if so, how much more? Connelly cleared his throat. “Do you have any idea—” “No.” “I know this is hard, Christine, but please take your time. Look closely.” “I don’t need to look closely. I don’t know who she is or what she was doing in my husband’s car.” Her voice broke suddenly, and for an instant, she thought about lunging at the detective. “This is why you’re here. Because of her. Because you were Stephen’s friend, and they thought you’d be able to get a name out of me. That’s what you meant when you said you were here to explain things. When you said things, you meant her.” “Christine, I know this doesn’t look good. I can’t even imagine what’s going through your mind right now, but we don’t know what this means. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” “She isn’t wearing a shirt, Detective.” “And there might be a perfectly valid explanation for that. Maybe when the divers pulled her out of the car, her clothes . . .” He let the words dangle, the look on his face making it clear he’d drawn the same conclusion she had—the only conclusion that could be drawn when a half-nude