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The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou. Jana DeLeonЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou - Jana DeLeon


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that school all those years ago, it was best to keep his purpose in town hidden from the masses. Plus, if he asked Ginny personal questions and she got uncomfortable, locals would probably jump in to protect her. That was typical small-town behavior.

       The couple sitting nearest to his booth rose right after he’d taken his seat and left some money on the table. Perfect timing. Now all he needed was for Ginny to come over with her order pad. He hadn’t seen her when he walked in, but she was probably in the back plating food or running dirty dishes through the wash.

       The door to the kitchen swung open and he took a deep breath, mentally preparing the words he wanted to say. A second later, he let out the breath in a whoosh of disappointment as Madelaine approached his table, a big smile on her face.

       “Morning,” she said. “You want coffee?”

       “Yes, please,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show.

       Madelaine stopped at a pot on the counter to pour him a cup of coffee, then placed it on the table in front of him. “Guess the food didn’t kill you yesterday.”

       “No. In fact, your omelet is one of the best I’ve ever had.”

       Madelaine blushed a bit. “Oh, well, what a nice thing to say. Did you enjoy the festival yesterday?”

       “Yes. I was impressed with the variety of the artists.”

       “Ginny said you bought a necklace from her. Do you think your aunt might be interested in carrying some of her stuff?”

       Paul’s mind went blank for a moment and then he remembered the lie that had rolled off his tongue the day before. “It’s certainly possible,” he said, suddenly realizing why Madelaine was steering the conversation to Ginny.

       Which also gave him the perfect opportunity to inquire about her. “I didn’t get a chance to talk with her yesterday,” he said. “I was hoping to catch her this morning. Has she already left for the festival?”

       Madelaine beamed. “No. She ran upstairs for a second. Just let me take your order so I can get it started and I’ll send her right out to chat with you.”

       “Great,” Paul said and ordered the breakfast special.

       Madelaine stuffed her pad in her apron and hurried into the kitchen, still smiling. Paul felt a momentary twinge of guilt for deliberately misleading the nice woman, but it passed quickly. A little white lie was a small price to pay if it led him to information about his sister.

       A couple of minutes later, Ginny came through the kitchen door and into the café. She looked toward his booth and hesitated just a moment before continuing to make her way over. She did not look happy to see him.

       “I don’t know who you think you are,” she said, glaring down at him, “but I want you to leave here before I call the police.”

       Paul stared for a moment before launching into action. “Wait,” he said as she started to move away. “I’m sorry I offended you yesterday, but being rude isn’t an offense you need the police to deal with.”

       “Breaking into my apartment is.”

       “I didn’t.... Someone broke into your apartment? Look, I swear, it wasn’t me. I don’t even know where you live.”

       She studied his face, and he waited for her to draw a conclusion. Surely, the shock he felt was clear in his expression. If not, then he was sunk. It was much harder to prove you hadn’t done something than proving you had. She bit her lower lip and rolled an end of her apron between her fingers.

       “But you want something from me,” she said finally. “And I don’t believe for a minute it’s my jewelry.”

       Paul ran one hand through his hair, not wanting to immediately launch into his reasons but knowing he needed to explain enough to keep her from running. “No. I’m not interested in your jewelry—at least, not as a buyer.”

       “Are you still accusing me of stealing that design?” Ginny’s face flushed.

       “No. That’s not it at all.” Paul saw the kitchen door open a crack and Madelaine peeked over at them. “Look, I need to talk to you. It’s personal and I don’t want anyone else to know what I’m doing here. Is there any way you can take a break?”

       Ginny glanced back at the kitchen and Madelaine ducked back inside. “Let me get your breakfast and tell my mom I’m going to speak to you a bit before heading to the festival. We’re closing soon, anyway.”

       Relief coursed through him. “Thank you. I promise I’ll explain everything.”

       “You better,” Ginny said, then spun around and headed back into the kitchen.

       Paul watched her walk through the door to the kitchen and tried to organize his thoughts. He’d hoped to get information from her without divulging the real reason behind his query, but if someone had broken into her apartment, that changed everything. The timing could be totally coincidental, but it would be one heck of a coincidence.

       And one that Paul wasn’t ready to buy.

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