Covert Alliance. Linda O. JohnstonЧитать онлайн книгу.
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“Yes, I’ll be glad to bring you—” Kelly Ladd froze in the middle of her response to her customer’s question. She had just glanced toward the restaurant’s front door.
Stan Grodon stood in the crowd that was just entering.
Stan Grodon, the murderous SOB. The reason she had returned to Blue Haven, California—as well as the reason she’d previously been forced to flee for her life. And now—
“Miss? Miss? I’d really like sausage instead of bacon in my three-cheese omelet. Is that okay?”
Kelly’s attention returned quickly to the glare of the middle-aged lady in a too-tight Blue Haven Bulldogs T-shirt who sat with a couple of other similarly clad women at the round table nearest her. She stood between two of them, leaning slightly forward, a pad of paper and a pen in her hand to jot down their orders.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said soothingly, glad her voice wasn’t cracking. “Of course you can have sausage instead of bacon. Are the types of cheese okay?”
Kelly forced herself to concentrate on taking the orders of all the women at the table, not watching the entrance of the city council members and others with them. Or at least not doing so overtly. She stood sideways so she wouldn’t be too obvious.
But she did manage to observe them as they waited to be seated. Especially the man who had gotten away—so far—with killing his wife. Who had attempted to kill Kelly.
And who was now endangering his own son.
When Kelly headed to the next customer at the table, she allowed herself to turn just a little, to grab a quick look at the group. She had known that a few Blue Haven City Council members and some staff were expected here for a 9:00 a.m. breakfast. They’d sent someone ahead to make sure tables would be ready for them.
Which had also given Kelly time to prepare herself mentally—as much as she could—assuming Stan might be among them. And maybe the other man she anticipated, his aide, Paul Tirths.
Paul was not here, but Stan was. Kelly had played out this moment hundreds of times in her mind. Thousands. Yet she knew reality was unlikely to unfold exactly as she’d imagined.
She just hoped it soon allowed her, at last, to achieve her goals. And stay alive.
She forced herself to smile and act as if she was paying complete attention to what the next customer said. In fact, she was paying some attention. She had to. She was a waitress here, which included taking orders, serving and more. That was the cover she had created for herself. A perfect cover, since she had been fully aware of how popular this family-style café was with the local city council.
Plus, she now knew how to be the ultimate server, thanks to her new identity—although she’d unfortunately had to walk out on the job she had been given to start her new life.
And in doing so, she had undoubtedly incurred a lot of wrath that she would ultimately have to face.
But not yet. Now it was almost time. Time to see if her new looks, that new identity, her new persona, had all been changed sufficiently to make sure Stan couldn’t recognize that she was actually Shereen Alsop, sister to Andi Grodon, the woman who’d been his wife.
The woman he had murdered just over a year ago. Whose body was never found.
“Thanks,” Kelly finally said, smiling brightly at her customers. “I’ll be back with your food soon.”
She barely noticed their startled looks. Had they finished telling her what they wanted? No matter. She couldn’t just stay there. Not now.
Along with the rest of his crowd, Stan now moved toward her as they followed the hostess. He was dressed nattily in an expensive-looking suit and was smiling, damn him, as he chatted with his fellow council members and others like he had nothing in the world on his conscience.
Kelly ached to confront him. Smash that smile right off his ugly, falsely charming face.
But not here. Not now. Not without answers—or Eli. She’d taken on a different identity on social media, too, and the scared recent posts from her nephew were the primary reason she had returned so impulsively.
If there had been any way of helping Eli remotely, she would have done it. She had tried to think of some way to do that so she wouldn’t have to put herself in danger once more.
But she hadn’t been able to just sit back and watch Eli’s terror grow.
“They’re here.” Ella Berdeen, the restaurant’s co-owner and manager, had joined Kelly near the row of tables that she had, at Ella’s instruction, helped to set up. That had involved obtaining more information about timing and numbers from the guy who had requested the rearrangement, then getting enough patrons to move to different tables in the busy restaurant to provide space for the city council.
It had taken a little bribery, some drinks and pastries that were on the house, but it had all worked out in the end.
“I’ll go tell the other servers,” Kelly said hurriedly, feeling like a coward. But she didn’t want to just stand there. And she would simply help to serve the food. She wouldn’t take orders. The waitresses were more noticeable than the ones who simply brought the food out and set it quickly down in front of the patrons—perhaps having an opportunity to eavesdrop a little on what they said.
Even so, she wished her waitress uniform weren’t so skimpy—a short black skirt beneath a snug and sleeveless white blouse. She knew Stan was a womanizer, and if he looked at her now, she wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell if he was undressing her in his mind—or recognizing her.
“No, I’ll tell them, and give me the orders you just wrote down. You start taking the orders of the council members and their staff. We have to accommodate their schedule.” Ella’s expression appeared irritated. In the few days since Kelly had started working here, she’d observed that despite what she made female servers wear, Ella liked to wear chic dresses over comfortable shoes, as she did now. Her hair was short and blond, and her smile never-ending—at least with her customers.
With her employees, like Kelly, she didn’t try to hide it if she felt annoyed. Like now.
“Okay,” Kelly said. But it wasn’t okay. Her first protective measure was now decimated.
On the other hand, maybe it would be better if she knew right away if all the changes that had been made to her, via cosmetic surgery, dyed and restyled hair, lessons in makeup and comportment and posture, voice and more, had changed her appearance enough.
She would soon find out.
Kelly started to turn toward the table when she saw the man in a suit who’d been in here before. He had returned—the guy who had come to make sure things could be set up for this group quickly and who had answered her questions about the arrangement.
Not surprising. He would want to make sure that all was ready, as promised.
But that might not be all he was doing here. And that worried Kelly.
At first she’d thought him an aide to the council members. But as he’d continued to ask questions as well as answer them, she had begun to wonder if he was with the private security company hired to protect the council.
She—no, her alter ego, Shereen Alsop—had had some familiarity with Blue Haven Security and with its staff...then. Before she had fled the town of Blue Haven to avoid the threats to her life that she knew, but could not prove, had come from Stan.
Ella had called this man Alan. He had just reentered the restaurant behind the group, but now he slid in front, approaching Kelly. She wanted to flee into the kitchen. Instead, she stood her ground.
The last thing she wanted was to do anything that might make her conspicuous, especially