Tidings of Fear. Ericka Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ it really be her?

      Without ordering, the woman sank into a seat by the door. Her expression and posture practically shouted her distress. Her almond-shaped brown eyes held unshed tears and her full, very kissable lips, trembled.

      Intuitively, he put two and two together. Lia Morgan. Sylvie Morgan. Could the two be related?

      He barely had time to finish the thought, for Mark had already stood and was striding with long confident steps toward the woman.

      “Lia?”

      At the sound of her name, the woman looked up. “Mark? Oh, thank God.” She stood and threw herself into Mark’s arms, sobbing.

      It seemed as if the whole world stilled while Jared watched them. He couldn’t seem to draw a breath and his heart clutched so tightly he feared it would never start beating again. It had been seven years since he’d seen her last. A long time to wonder what he’d done wrong and why she wouldn’t answer his calls. Too long to pick up where they’d left off.

      Mark made some ineffectual shushing noises and patted her back.

      “They won’t tell me anything,” she wailed.

      “Who won’t?”

      “The police. I went straight to the station this morning. The officer in charge told me they had the case under control and were following some promising leads. But when I asked what those were, he wouldn’t tell me.”

      “They don’t want to compromise the investigation,” Mark murmured.

      More like they don’t know a damn thing.

      Lia pulled back from Mark’s embrace. “Have you seen Margaret?”

      “From what I understand, she’s staying at Sylvie’s house, in case the kidnapper calls.”

      “What happened to her and Margaret? I didn’t even know Sylvie didn’t work for the government anymore until I did a search for her on the internet. Even then, all I got were hits on her book. I didn’t know who to call. But you’re here, so the FBI or someone should be taking over the investigation. Right?”

      “Come, have a seat.” Mark tugged on her arm to turn her toward the table.

      She reached up to knuckle the tears out of her eyes as she walked. God, she still hadn’t seen him. What should he do? Run? Or would it be better if he simply dropped to the floor and slithered away? His heart began to beat all too hard now. It hammered against his chest wall and the blood roared in his ears.

      What would she say? What would she do?

      She stopped.

      Mark paused, puzzled, and then looked over at him.

      “You know him?” Mark asked.

      Lia simply nodded. Then she seemed to pull herself together. The false smile she plastered on her pretty face hurt more than a scowl would have.

      “Professor Trimble,” she said. Her voice, the same soft caress she’d used to seduce him years ago, set off a reaction of want and need inside him. Just for a moment, he remembered what it had been like to hear her whisper his name in the dark after they’d made love, or to pick up a voice mail message from her where she’d describe exactly what she planned to do to him with her mouth, fingers and body.

      “I haven’t seen you in years,” he managed to croak out. “How are you?”

      Only after he’d spoken did he realize how ludicrous the question sounded. Her sister and nephew were missing, how the hell did he expect her to be?

      However, she’d interpreted it as polite lip service.

      “I’ve been well, up until now.” Her brown eyes shot back to Mark. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

      “We don’t, didn’t.” Mark said. He pulled up a chair from a nearby table. “I got a strange fax and suspect it’s from Sylvie’s captor. So, I called in an expert.”

      “An expert? Shouldn’t you be calling the FBI?” Her voice quavered. “I’m not sure what you think an anthropologist could do.” Her words stumbled to a stop. “Oh, God. You think Sylvie is dead. But I still don’t understand why you’d need him. It’s not like she’s been missing for years and is decomposing somewhere.” Her voice ended in a sob. “And despite what you might think, I know my sister is still alive.”

      “No, he didn’t call me in as an anthropologist, but for the crossword puzzles. I…” Jared began, but the moment she looked at him, his mind went blank.

      “Professor Trimble has won the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament three times. When I found out he lived in the area, I gave him a call.”

      Lia shook her head. With the movement, the scent of her shampoo wafted toward him and elicited yet more memories of her, naked and in his arms. It took every ounce of restraint for him not to touch her, to ask what had happened to her, to him, to them.

      “I received this by fax yesterday. Margaret received one too. I think the kidnapper sent them to us as we were the only two unknown numbers Sylvie kept in her cellphone address book.”

      “I’m still not sure I understand.” Lia sighed. “Oh, God. I feel so bad. Sylvie and I were never close. I haven’t heard from her in years. It was such a shock to have the police call and tell me she and her son, a son I didn’t even know she had, were missing. It’s been too much. But why would he leave clues in a crossword puzzle?”

      “We don’t know, but I’ll find out.” Jared looked down at the stack of papers in front of him. At first glance, he didn’t think solving the puzzles was going to pose much of a challenge. Deducing their meaning, now that was another story. Did the puzzle intimate where the victims were held and for how long? Did information, hidden deep within each puzzle, give any indication to the identity of the composer?

      “Wait a minute, you said you know she’s still alive. How is that? Have you heard something from her captor?” Mark put his hand over Lia’s.

      Jared felt an irrational jolt of jealousy. He tamped it back down. They were old friends, obviously nothing more. Mark had to be pushing sixty years old, and he had mentioned a wife.

      “No, it’s just…” Her gaze shot over to Jared, and just for a second, he felt as if her glance held all the answers as to why she had left him and dropped out of college.

      “I just know, that’s all,” Lia said. “Now tell me, what are we going to do to find her?”\

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