Looking for Sophie. Roz Denny Fox
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Название: Looking for Sophie

Автор: Roz Denny Fox

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Superromance

isbn: 9781408910351

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ “Thanks for digging in, son, and for finding out Hackett’s not wanted by the law.”

      “No problem. I put out discreet feelers on the mom of the missing girl through a P. I. contact who can access background info on anyone. That report will take a day or so, provided she hasn’t left Alaska. By the way, I’m having dinner with Josh and Dawn tonight. Will you tell Mom? And remind her she doesn’t need to set me up with the woman from her cooking club tomorrow night, either.”

      Sam gave a robust laugh. “I told Beth that gal doesn’t have enough spunk for you, son. But your mom’s not gonna rest until you’ve found a wife.”

      “Then she won’t rest for a long time.”

      His dad’s laughter was slow to die. “What’s that mean? You saying you’ve been in one of those closets?”

      That was about the last remark Julian expected from his dad, and it took him aback. Finally, he was able to laugh. “No, Pop. I like women just fine. I’m picky, that’s all. I’m holding out for someone like Mom.”

      “That’ll take a lot of looking. Your mother is one in a million. Oh, I know she gets upset with me. But she’s a peach. And I’m a damn lucky man.”

      “Yep, but Mom’s worried you’re mistaken about the Hackett girl. Another reprimand could lose you your pension. Is that the way to repay Mom’s love and loyalty?”

      “Well, now. Why not just come right out and call me a doddering buttinsky?”

      “It’s not that, Pop. I want you to think about the risks and proceed with caution.”

      “I am. I haven’t called the FBI or the missing kids hotline.”

      “Good. I’ve got two weeks off. My time is yours on this. The girl on the card, Sophie Patton…she’s been missing over a year. Trails go cold. Just…don’t get antsy.”

      “As long as they don’t look like they’re packing up. School’s out soon. The NCMEC folks told me last time that people running with stolen kids don’t usually stay in one spot longer than a school year. I asked Hackett once why his daughter wasn’t in school with her brothers. He said at least three times in the space of a minute that she’s only four. She looks older to me.”

      “When’s school out?”

      “Two weeks.”

      THE NEXT DAY Julian felt even more pressure to turn up something useful on Lee Hackett. Both of his brothers and their wives had expressed their concern about his father’s meddling at dinner the previous evening. Tag and Raine had declared Sam was nuts. Josh and Dawn asked Julian to put a stop to what they were sure spelled disaster. And the four of them were dead certain he was way off base.

      Julian ended his deliveries at the Hacketts’. They had a package with their bundle of mail, a box addressed to Toby Roberts. The return address was a Mrs. Leland Carter of Macks Creek, Missouri. Toby, Julian recalled, had been friendly, the boy who said Lee Hackett wasn’t his and Gavin’s real dad.

      Julian could’ve squished the package into the mailbox, but decided to take the opportunity to knock on the door. This afternoon it was evident there were children playing in the backyard. Julian heard a ball bounce on cement. He rang the doorbell and caught a glimpse of the blond girl as she swept back the curtain, then scampered out of sight.

      A few seconds passed. Suddenly Gavin opened the door. He snatched the package and slammed the door in Julian’s face just as Lee Hackett turned in to the driveway. The man parked in the garage, leaped from his van and eyed Julian warily. “Whatcha want?”

      “Just delivering a package that was too big for your mailbox.” Julian walked down the steps, repeating the lie about his dad’s twisted knee.

      Hackett’s dark eyes flashed to Julian’s bike. “Great Ducati Monster,” he exclaimed.

      Happy his strategy was working, Julian rattled off its stats. Hackett followed Julian to the street and knelt beside the bike, running a work-worn hand over the chrome exhaust. The man knew his motorcycles, Julian decided by the time Hackett excused himself to return to his house.

      Julian was fastening his helmet strap when the side door of the house flew open and the blond girl launched herself into Hackett’s arms. Caught off guard, Julian fumbled for his phone. He managed to snap a few shots, hoping that at least one would be good. He took one last picture as Hackett picked up the girl and swung her up and around like an airplane. Hackett grinned at his daughter and tossed Julian a quick wave before going into the house. He looked like any dad happy to be home with his kids after a hard day’s work.

      Julian could barely contain his excitement as he rode to his folks’ house to download his pictures. When he finally made it, Julian wanted to rip them out of the printer. “Pop, come here,” he called, setting the first photo on the desk. “Does this girl look like she’s being held against her will?” There was pure joy in the child’s wide smile and in the way she clasped her dad’s face between her hands.

      Sam came in from the living room, and had to agree with his son’s assessment. “Yeah. But wouldn’t that be the case if he’s a noncustodial parent? And it doesn’t make him less guilty of a crime. Son, I swear I’d rip this card up if I could be sure that girl isn’t Sophie Patton. Imagine if you were her mom. Hell, what if your mother and I had divorced and the court gave you to her, but I waltzed in and whisked you away? Wouldn’t she be sick about it?”

      Julian slid the pictures into a file folder he’d started on Hackett. “Mom would go after you with a shotgun.” They shared a chuckle before Julian sobered. “My inquiry on Sophie’s custodial parent came in from Doug, my P. I. contact. Her mother, Garnet, teaches English at an Anchorage high school. Has for more than five years.”

      “Doesn’t prove anything. Maybe she can’t afford to chase after her girl.”

      “Hmm. You know, I met a cop from Anchorage a few years back at a domestic violence seminar. Larry Adams. We hit it off,’ cause we’re both outdoor types. He said Alaska has great fishing. Maybe I’ll phone him…see what he can tell me about the old case.”

      Beth Cavenaugh walked in on the men and heard her son’s last comment. “Won’t another police officer wonder why you’re asking questions, Julian? Perhaps you ought to fly up there to fish, and poke around by yourself.”

      “It’s way out of my jurisdiction. But I’ll see what I can do. Pop, would you promise to let this go until I get back?”

      “I’ll do you one better. I’ll pay for your flight if your mom can find a reasonable fare.”

      THE NEXT DAY, Julian flew over some incredible terrain he wished he could explore on his bike. The landscape was dotted with sparkling lakes and rivers. When the plane landed, Julian picked up a few brochures at the airport, almost forgetting this was more than a fishing trip.

      He rented a Jeep and loaded his duffel and a case with his rod and reel. Before he’d left Georgia, he’d phoned Larry Adams, who offered his spare bedroom, but also said he was working odd hours undercover. Julian didn’t mind at all—it gave him reason to find a motel near Garnet Patton’s school. Being on his own also meant he had freedom to snoop. The men had agreed to meet whenever Larry found time to hoist a beer and shoot a little pool.

      Julian had done some checking before СКАЧАТЬ