Whispers Under A Southern Sky. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
ran parallel to the road. For the last two years, he’d been the only one on this end of the rural county route, but now Amy Finley was living in the woods north of his place. He’d thought about her often since they’d spoken.
Her reaction to his questions had accelerated his timetable for finding a sitter for Aiden, in fact. In his own hurt at leaving her that long-ago summer, he’d overlooked her as a potential witness. Something he would remedy as soon as he secured help watching his son. His foster mother had been helping him out while he was working, so he couldn’t ask her to pinch-hit other times.
“Back here.” Sam raised his voice to be heard across the expanse of lawn separating him from the two girls exiting the Volvo. “You can cut across the grass.”
He recognized both of them. Megan Bryer had almost been one of Jeremy’s victims, and her friend Bailey McCord had the misfortune of dating the younger Covington, J.D., who’d acted as his father’s accomplice. Bailey’s mother was also in jail for her role in harassing Megan, although Tiffany’s expensive attorney wouldn’t let her languish there much longer. The request for a bail hearing had been filed last week.
Sam had never thought much of the pushy town councilwoman, although her husband seemed like a decent guy.
“Hello, Sheriff Reyes,” the girls greeted him in unison, voices matching in pitch and cadence.
He tried not to wince. Had he ever been that young?
“Thanks for coming. Which one of you is looking for some extra work?”
“I am.” Bailey McCord stepped forward. Blonde and blue-eyed, she was a pretty girl who—unlike a lot of the teens he saw around town—didn’t rush to flaunt it. She carried a purple binder with a matching pen that had a feather cap.
“Great.” He pointed to the chair at the long wooden table he’d built himself last fall. “Have a seat, and I’ll tell you about the job.”
“Is it okay if Megan stays?” The pink in her cheeks suggested she was nervous.
He knew he had that effect on people, but he’d never developed much of a knack for fixing it.
“I’d be grateful if she did.” A thought occurred to him. “For that matter, I wouldn’t mind hiring you as a team to babysit my son. An eight-week-old is a lot of work.”
He planned to have Aiden watched at his foster mother’s house since she was at home all day and would be nearby if there were any problems. While she’d offered to watch Aiden full-time herself, Sam worried that would be too much for her since she kept the books for the family’s pizza shop and still supervised two foster sons. But he would rest easier knowing there would be someone else in the house.
Bailey frowned. Megan looked interested, though.
“Really?” Megan took a seat beside her friend. Her hands were covered in henna tattoos and...was that a saltshaker around her neck?
“I’d up the pay accordingly.” His savings were fairly substantial, as he’d invested all his early earnings in Zach’s digital security firm, which had gone on to be extremely successful. “Plus, if you shared the duties sometimes and split them other times, it would ensure I’d have at least one of you available more often.” He liked the idea more and more with a big case to investigate and limited hours to devote to it.
Bailey looked interested now, too; the girls exchanged sidelong glances while Sam explained his schedule and Aiden’s.
Something about the silent give-and-take between the girls brought back a memory from his last summer in Heartache. When he’d asked Amy to ditch the last day of school with him, she’d been in the school parking lot with Gabriella. Amy had met Gabby’s eyes. Later, he’d learned that look had meant that Gabby would cover for her with the teachers. Who knew so much could be communicated in a glance?
Lifting the blanket shading one side of the playpen, he showed off his son and took a moment’s satisfaction out of seeing how quickly the boy sealed the deal. The girls were smitten. But then, that only led him to wonder why his son’s mother couldn’t have been equally charmed. He hated that for Aiden.
“This all sounds good, Mr. Reyes.” Bailey straightened from the playpen and bit her lip. “But before you make any decisions, I want to be sure you know that my mother is Tiffany McCord.” She folded her arms tightly, meeting his gaze. “Just in case, you know, that’s a problem.”
Her honesty about something that was obviously painful to admit notched his opinion of her higher.
“It’s not. I could have never become a cop if the mistakes of my birth family were held against me.” He flipped the cover back over the baby’s makeshift bed. “My foster family has taken in a lot of kids over the years, and the first thing they tried to knock into our heads was not to make judgments of each other based on anything other than our actions. Everyone deserves to earn their own reputation.”
“I like that.” Bailey smiled.
“Very cool,” Megan agreed.
He wished he’d won over the other kids at Crestwood High as easily when he’d spoken to the student body last week. Maybe having more interactions with teens would help him figure out how to talk to them. Any one of them might be a potential witness, and he wasn’t going to overlook the chance for evidence again.
Besides, having Megan Bryer and Bailey McCord nearby held appeal for his case. He’d interviewed Megan about the attempted kidnapping last month, but she hadn’t been able to give him many details since her captors hadn’t shown their faces.
Bailey, meanwhile, was someone he’d hoped would come forward with information because she’d dated J.D. But so far she hadn’t offered any insider knowledge about her ex-boyfriend or his jailbird father.
Since Megan had already given her deposition and Bailey seemed not to have any relevant info, he was comfortable employing them. His first priority was Aiden. Heartache wasn’t exactly a thriving metropolis with lots of options for caregivers.
“I’m going to check these references.” He slid the folded sheet of paper Bailey had given him into the breast pocket of his jacket. “Megan, you’re welcome to submit some if you are still interested.”
He watched them do more of the ESP thing, their gazes connecting.
“I am.” Her ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “I can email them to you when I get home.”
“Fair enough.” He reached to shake hands with each of them. “Thank you for stopping by. I’ll get back to you this week.”
As they turned to leave, Sam retrieved his phone to check his messages. He added Megan and Bailey to the list of people for Zach’s background checks, typing their names into an email.
Before he finished, a message flashed across the screen from an app he’d never used before, a program he didn’t recall downloading.
Stop asking for victims to come forward. Your son’s safety is at stake.
He read the message twice, his hand reaching for the top rail of the playpen instinctively. His blood chilled.
What. The. Hell.
Emotions surged, fear and fury leading the charge.
But before he could forward it to Zach for analysis, the message vanished.
Searching every conceivable screen and folder on the phone, Sam used his landline to call Zach.
He picked up right away. “Chance.”
“I just received a threat to Aiden on my cell. The message disappeared after I read it.”
Zach swore. “Don’t touch anything on the phone. I’ll see if I can find it. Want me to pick it up, or are you coming into town?”
“I’ll bring it to you.” He made up his mind as he pocketed the device. “I was going to drop off Aiden at my mother’s,