Her Colton P.i.. Amelia AutinЧитать онлайн книгу.
lose the only one we have left.”
Treading cautiously, Holly asked, “What happened to Josie?”
“No one knows. We haven’t heard from her in six years.” His brows drew together in a troubled frown. “And even before that she practically refused to have anything to do with us for years.” He thought for a moment. “I guess she was about twelve when she told the social worker she didn’t want us visiting her anymore.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty. The summer before my junior year in college.” He sighed. “But even before that she... When Trevor turned eighteen—Trevor’s the oldest, three years older than me—when he turned eighteen, he tried to get custody of Josie, take her out of foster care. But she refused. We figured it had something to do with her foster sister, Lizzie. They were particularly close. And Lizzie says they were both attached to their foster parents.”
He sighed again. “I also tried to get custody when I turned eighteen and graduated from high school. I’d have passed on college if that’s what it took—scholarship be damned. But I didn’t have any more luck than Trevor.” He looked down at his plate, forked a bite of chicken and swirled it in the mashed potatoes, then ate it.
Holly pried peas off Jamie’s tray, piled them on his plate and tapped an imperious finger. “Eat those, mister.” She glanced over at Ian to make sure he was eating what was set before him without difficulty, then looked up at Chris. “What happened then?”
“Even with the scholarship it wasn’t easy, but I managed. I worked to put myself through school, and when I graduated, I came back here to Granite Gulch. Laura was waiting for me—we’d been engaged since my junior year in college—but I told her I needed to try one more time with Josie...who turned me down flat.”
That hurt him. Chris didn’t have to say it; Holly just knew. “Josie didn’t say why?”
“Nope. Basically her message was ‘Leave me alone.’” He paused. “I don’t blame her in one way. She was only three when our father murdered our mother—I doubt she even remembers her or us as a family.”
But you do, Holly thought. You remember...and it hurts you to remember.
“So it only makes sense she didn’t want to have anything to do with her brothers and sisters—we’re not her family anymore. Then six years ago...” Chris began, but when he stopped, Holly raised her eyebrows in a question, so he continued. “Josie ran away six years ago. At least that’s the best we can figure. I’ve been searching for her off and on ever since.”
Now Holly thought she understood what Peg had meant when she said Chris needed to do this, needed to shelter Holly and her boys from the McCays. Chris carried a load of guilt over his missing sister. Probably some guilt over his mother, too.
“You said there were seven of you, and that Trevor’s the oldest. What does he do?”
“FBI profiler.”
“Wow. Impressive.”
Chris nodded, but Holly got the impression there were some unresolved issues between Chris and his older brother. I wonder what that’s about. She wasn’t going to ask, of course. But maybe he would volunteer something later on. “After Trevor it’s you and Annabel, right? And Josie’s the baby. Who else?”
“Ridge. He’s two years younger than me.”
“Unusual name.”
Chris laughed. “It suits him. He’s in search and rescue. He’s big and bad and nobody messes with Ridge.”
Kind of like you, Holly thought, but she kept it to herself. “And after Ridge?”
“Ethan. He’s twenty-seven, and he is intense. He kind of keeps himself to himself, if you know what I mean.” Holly nodded. “He’s a rancher. His ranch is...oh, about ten miles from here. The isolation suits him, but he’s going to have to get accustomed to having more people around—his wife, Lizzie, is expecting a baby any day now.”
“Oh, that’s nice. You’ll be an uncle again.” She counted up in her mind, then said, “One more. Another brother, right?”
“Yeah. Sam. He’s a police detective, right here on the Granite Gulch police force, just like Annabel. He’s twenty-five, and he just got engaged in January to the sweetest woman, Zoe. You’d like her.”
“Wait. Zoe Robison? The librarian?”
Ian piped up, “Zo-ee, Zo-ee!” and Jamie copied him. Holly quickly looked over at her boys and realized they were pretty much done. They’d left a disaster that would need hosing down to clean up, but at least they’d managed to eat most of what was on their plates. What hadn’t been eaten was now adorning them. She shuddered at the mashed potatoes Ian had massaged into his eyebrows.
“You know Zoe?” Chris asked.
Holly jumped up and grabbed the washcloth from the sink. “She runs the Mommy and Me reading program at the library,” she explained as she wiped Jamie’s hands and face, then did the same for Ian. “Ian and Jamie adore her, and yes, she’s really sweet.”
Chris waited until Jamie was clean, then he unstrapped the boy and lifted him out of the high chair, setting him on his feet. When Ian was ready, he got the same treatment.
“Leave this,” Chris told Holly. “I’ll clean up and put the dishes in the dishwasher.”
“I should do it,” she protested. “Ian and Jamie are the ones who made such a mess.” She grimaced as she took in the condition of the floor, which had a few peas scattered beneath the high chairs—the ones Wally hadn’t gobbled up—not to mention a couple of gooey globs that looked like mashed potatoes.
“You probably want to give the boys a bath before too long.”
“You mean before they track the mess into the rest of the house?”
Chris grinned. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“You really don’t mind cleaning up in here? I feel awful leaving this for you.”
“Don’t sweat it.” He was already swiping a damp paper towel over the mashed potatoes and picking the remaining peas up off the floor as she spoke. Chris’s cell phone rang at that moment, and he threw the peas into the garbage disposal before he checked the caller ID. “Annabel,” he told Holly. “I should take this. Excuse me.” He pressed a button. “Hey, Bella, what’s up?”
He stiffened almost immediately, and Holly watched his lighthearted expression fade away as he listened to his sister on the other end. Two minutes passed, then three, before Chris said, “I’m sorry to hear it. What does Trevor say?” He made a sound of impatience, then nodded as if Annabel could see him. “Okay. I understand. Besides Trevor and Sam, who else knows?” He listened for a minute, then said, “Nothing I can do, but thanks for letting me know. Watch yourself, okay?”
He disconnected but didn’t put the phone away. He hit speed dial, waited a few seconds, then said, “Peg? It’s Chris. Have you been watching the local news?” Apparently the answer was no, because he added, “Turn it on. Now. Annabel just called me. They found another body with the bull’s-eye marking. Yeah, number eight—Helena Tucker.”
Chris hung up with Peg, then glanced at Holly. She was kneeling on the floor, an arm around each twin, clutching them tightly. “Sorry,” Chris said, thinking she was trying to keep the boys from hearing his side of the conversation. “I forgot there were little ears around.” The face Holly raised to his was ashen, and guilty. “What?” he asked.
“It’s terrible,” she whispered. “I should be praying for that poor woman. But all I could think about when I heard her name was that I could stop worrying.”