Эротические рассказы

Proof of Life. Laura ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.

Proof of Life - Laura Scott


Скачать книгу
wasn’t your fault.” The faint bitterness in her tone surprised him.

      Her fault? He shot her a quick glance. “Shanna, I’m sure your parents didn’t blame you.”

      Her gaze was bleak. “Yes, they did. Because it was true. Skylar’s kidnapping was my fault.” She turned away, staring out the window. “You were right to hold off on telling my mother. I want to find my sister first. I can’t bear to raise her hopes for no reason.”

      He reached over to take her hand in his. “Maybe looking through the student IDs will help.”

      “I hope so,” she murmured. “I need to be able to give my mother that much.”

      He didn’t know what to say to that. His cell phone rang, and he juggled the steering wheel, going against state law by answering it. “Hello?”

      “Quinn?” His mother’s shrill voice echoed in his ear. “Where are you?”

      “I’m following up on some leads from Brady’s case,” he told her, trying to ignore that she hadn’t bothered asking how he was doing. His mother tended to live in a world that was centered on herself and her second family. Not the mistake of her first marriage. “What’s wrong? Are you and James doing all right?”

      “It’s been awful to sit here not knowing anything. We’ve been waiting for you to bring us some news.” Her tone was full of reproach.

      “I wish I had some news to bring you, but I don’t.” He maneuvered the car around a turn with one hand, refraining from reminding her that Brady had been dead for just a little more than twenty-four hours. “Look, Mom, I have to go. I’m driving. After I go through the list of kids who were at Brady’s party, I’ll be in touch.”

      “Call us the minute you find anything. We have an appointment at the funeral home this evening, but we don’t know when they’re going to release Brady’s body.” Her tone grew thick with suppressed tears.

      Guilt swirled as he realized he should be making the funeral arrangements for her. “I’ll help you with the arrangements, Mom. I’ll find out when they’re going to release Brady’s body, and I’ll meet you at the funeral home when I finish here.”

      “All right. I’ll let James know the plan.” His mother hung up. Fighting a surge of helplessness that he couldn’t do more, Quinn flipped his phone shut.

      “I can look through the photo IDs myself,” Shanna offered in a low tone. “Sounds as if you have a lot to do at home.”

      Selfishly, he didn’t want to leave Shanna. Not yet. Not until he knew whether or not she’d recognized any of the photo IDs as potentially belonging to her sister.

      “I have time. Let’s go through the pictures first, see if anyone looks even vaguely familiar. For now we’ll use whatever aged photo your mom has posted on the missing children website.”

      “Sounds good.”

      Quinn parked in a no-parking zone, using his campus police tag to identify his car, and walked inside the main registration office with Shanna at his side. It was busy for a Monday, but within moments they were granted access to the library and the database where the computer records of all the college students’ information and photos were kept.

      “Here’s the list of partygoers,” Quinn said, pushing the list in front of her. At least half the attendees were female. “Let’s start with these first.”

      She nodded, and he typed in the first name on the computer. After a few seconds, the photograph popped up on the screen. Shanna stared at the image so long, he cast a concerned glance her way. “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing.” Shanna slowly shook her head. “It’s just that other than Skylar’s brown eyes, I don’t even know what to look for. Her hair could be any length, any color.”

      “Brown eyes?” He raised a brow, peering at her. No contacts that he could see. “Yours are blue.”

      “Yeah. Skylar takes after my dad. He has brown eyes. Mine and my mom’s are blue.”

      “I see. We could narrow the search function to just those girls with brown eyes.”

      “No.” She put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “I’d like to see them all, if you don’t mind.”

      He hesitated, but then nodded. His time constraints weren’t hers. After all these years, Shanna deserved at least a couple of hours to get through the list. “Okay.”

      One by one, she paged through the list of girls who’d been identified as attending the party. A few times she toggled back and forth between the picture of how Skylar might look now and the actual student photo, but in the end she sat back, slowly shaking her head.

      “None of them look familiar.” Her dejected tone made him empathize with what she must be going through. “I thought …” She didn’t finish.

      “Hey, we’ve only gone through the party list. There are thousands of other female student pictures to get through.” He didn’t have time to get through the rest now, but he could come back later, after the visit to the funeral home.

      “Maybe.” Shanna lifted her tortured gaze. “Looking at these pictures is harder than I thought. I should recognize her. My own sister. The image should jump out at me, don’t you think?”

      “Try to relax,” he soothed. “We still have time—”

      “No! You don’t understand! It’s already been fourteen years. I have to find her, Quinn. I have to!”

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4Rp1RXhpZgAATU0AKgAAAAgADAEAAAMAAAABAfQAAAEBAAMAAAABArwAAAECAAMAAAADAAAA ngEGAAMAAAABAAIAAAESAAMAAAABAAEAAAEVAAMAAAABAAMAAAEaAAUAAAABAAAApAEbAAUAAAAB AAAArAEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAExAAIAAAAgAAAAtAEyAAIAAAAUAAAA1IdpAAQAAAABAAAA6AAAASAA CAAIAAgADqYAAAAnEAAOpgAAACcQQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIENTNiAoTWFjaW50b3NoKQAyMDE1 OjA4OjEyIDE3OjQzOjA3AAAEkAAABwAAAAQwMjIxoAEAAwAAAAEAAQAAoAIABAAAAAEAAAXcoAMA BAAAAAEAAAg0AAAAAAAAAAYBAwADAAAAAQAGAAABGgAFAAAAAQAAAW4BGwAFAAAAAQAAAXYBKAAD AAAAAQACAAACAQAEAAAAAQAAAX4CAgAEAAAAAQAAGO8AAAAAAAAASAAAAAEAAABIAAAAAf/Y/+0A DEFkb2JlX0NNAAH/7gAOQWRvYmUAZIAAAAAB/9sAhAAMCAgICQgMCQkMEQsKCxEVDwwMDxUYExMV ExMYEQwMDAwMDBEMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMAQ0LCw0ODRAODhAUDg4OFBQO Dg4OFBEMDAwMDBERDAwMDAwMEQwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAz/wAARCACgAHID ASIAAhEBAxEB/90ABAAI/8QBPwAAAQUBAQEBAQEAAAAAAAAAAwABAgQFBgcICQoLAQABBQEBAQEB AQAAAAAAAAABAAIDBAUGBwgJCgsQAAEEAQMCBAIFBwYIBQMMMwEAAhEDBCESMQVBUWETInGBMgYU kaGxQiMkFVLBYjM0coLRQwclklPw4fFjczUWorKDJkSTVGRFwqN0NhfSVeJl8rOEw9N14/NGJ5Sk hbSVxNTk9KW1xdXl9VZmdoaWprbG1ub2N0dXZ3eHl6e3x9fn9xEAAgIBAgQEAwQFBgcHBgU1AQAC EQMhMRIEQVFhcSITBTKBkRShsUIjwVLR8DMkYuFygpJDUxVjczTxJQYWorKDByY1wtJEk1SjF2RF VTZ0ZeLys4TD03Xj80aUpIW0lcTU5PSltcXV5fVWZnaGlqa2xtbm9ic3R1dnd4eXp7fH/9oADAMB AAIRAxEAPwDyxOI8V00N8B9wShvgPuCsex/W/Bf7fi817fEJAjxXSw3wH3BEoxnXucGBjQxu573w 1jRO0b3kfnv9jEDhERZlQHcK9vxeYBHiEapm8gBdZV0fItxaLW1lmRkWuFdVrRWz7O2r7R9uN9u1 no/S9/8A6MVY0OqdUwhrn3tbZUxmri15PonZG5vrtb6tLPp+j6dibD25EiOQEi7Hlxer+76J+pPt +LTwMVrTvfEN1Mq1bkMMwZA4hEdTcC1rqy02WGpkiN1jS1r6m/muex1jNyG6Gkt0lpLTBBEg7eR7 XJ3sCRsTB8l3DS1V9T3gxG0d0ZmQx3tb
Скачать книгу
Яндекс.Метрика