Sarah's Secrets. Lisa ChildsЧитать онлайн книгу.
broad-shouldered shrug wasn’t very reassuring. “As safe as anywhere…”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, and his stare was unfocused. Was he thinking of his past with the Crimes Against Children Division of the FBI? Or was something in the present troubling him?
Despite the questions she wanted to ask him about the stolen medical records, she found herself wondering aloud, “Why are you here? Dylan said that you were on a job but it was personal. What is it?”
The strong line of his jaw grew tauter. “Sarah…”
“I understand that you probably can’t tell me. Confidentiality rules with a client—”
He shook his head, the dark-golden hair flirting with his shirt collar. “Not this client. I’m not doing this job for money.”
For love. He didn’t have to say it; the words were etched in the worry lines bracketing his mouth and eyes. “It is personal,” he added.
“I didn’t mean to pry.” And she was aghast at her lack of manners. She’d made a vow long ago always to respect the privacy of others. And hope they respected hers.
His light-brown eyes swirled with indiscernible emotions. “You’re not prying. In fact, I plan to tell you all about it. I have to tell you all about it. Later.”
She shivered. “I don’t understand…”
“You will.”
A bead of cold sweat rolled down between her breasts. She couldn’t handle anything else right now. Opening her mouth to demand answers, she glanced around at the interested faces of the other ice cream parlor patrons. Then she swallowed her questions.
They didn’t need to hear anything else. They already knew too much about her life. Her teenage pregnancy. Her adopted brother’s crime. Her marriage to a wealthy older man.
They knew enough to resent her. Perhaps enough to send her a threatening letter in order to shake up her composure. But did they resent her enough to harm her child?
ROYCE RUBBED his knuckles over his aching side. Too much ice cream? He doubted it. He’d hardly managed a few licks between watching Sarah and her son. And the townspeople.
While friends surrounded Jeremy, people hung back from his mother as if glass walls separated her from the rest of the world. Maybe she was a snob. He figured she looked down her pert little nose at him, but she didn’t seem to disparage any of those around her. Although a cool smile played around her mouth, she didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.
She almost acted as if she were ashamed. Of what? Of her marriage to an older guy? Of inheriting his money? How much money? Enough to make her son a prime target for a kidnapper?
He wished he could accept he had nothing to do with the threat against her son. But he’d stopped believing in coincidences long ago.
He glanced around, meeting the curious gazes of the people around them and searching beyond. The hair lifted on the nape of his neck. He knew someone was watching them, someone other than the parents of the other children.
But nobody would be foolhardy enough to attempt to abduct the boy with half of the town to witness and interfere. And as popular as the kid was, he traveled nowhere without his friends. He was probably safest in public, but in private…
“Jeremy, it’s time to go,” Sarah said, stopping a few feet from her son.
“Mom…”
“Jeremy, we have a guest.”
The boy flashed a smile at Royce. “Mr. Graham, I’d like you to meet my friends…”
Young faces swam before Royce’s eyes. Despite the cooling breeze, sweat beaded on his brow. These lively faces melded with images from the past. Staring eyes in dead faces… He jerked back a step. “I—I’d like to, but I have to make a call.”
The lie came easily but prompted him to remember Dylan. He should let the sheriff know they’d stopped off before heading back to Sarah’s. And maybe he should get those directions.
He dragged his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll head back to the SUV while you say a quick goodbye.”
Sarah’s dark-gray eyes widened, and she took a step toward him. He lifted a hand and gestured with his head toward her son. She nodded and turned back to Jeremy. Whatever concern she’d felt for him had been replaced with a mother’s worry for her son.
He didn’t care. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone’s concern. The only one who’d ever really cared about him lay in a coma.
He rubbed his free hand over his unshaven jaw. He had to get Sarah back to Milwaukee, to a dying man’s bedside. But how would he get her away from Winter Falls?
Because they’d been later than the rest of the team to the ice cream parlor, he’d had to park the Avalanche around the block. He started toward the silver SUV, his finger hovering on the buttons of the cell phone. He’d neglected to get Dylan’s number. Did this little town even use 911?
Underneath the carriage of the SUV a shadow fell across the pavement. Someone crouched on the other side. Waiting for what?
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and slowed his stride. Stealthy steps carried him around the short pickup box on the back of the SUV.
A sweatshirt hood concealed the face of the person who crouched near the rear tire, his back to Royce. Royce widened his stance on the asphalt. He had just reached his arm to wrap around the would-be attacker’s neck when a hand came up.
The blade of a knife flashed, reflecting the afternoon sun. Had Royce’s approach been reflected in the shiny metal of the SUV?
He braced for an attack.
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.