Breakwater. Carla Neggers

Чтение книги онлайн.

       www.mirabooks.co.uk

      To Zack

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Chapter 35

      Chapter 36

      Chapter 37

      Chapter 38

      Chapter 39

      1

      Quinn Harlowe gave up trying to concentrate and tapped a few keys on her iBook, saving the file she’d been working on.

      Defeated by an alphabet book, she thought, smiling at the little boy who’d crawled, book in hand, onto his mother’s lap at the next table. He made a face and turned his head away from her. His mother, flaxen-haired and smartly dressed, didn’t seem to notice and kept reading.

      She was only on B. There was a lot of the alphabet to go.

      Quinn took a sip of her espresso. The draft of the workshop she was giving at the FBI Academy next month would have to wait. She didn’t mind. It was just one o’clock on a perfect early-April Monday afternoon, and she was her own boss. She could work tonight, if necessary. Why not blow off an hour?

      Thinking it would be cooler today, she’d worn a lightweight black cashmere sweater that now was too warm. At least she’d pinned up her hair, almost as black as her sweater, and had worn minimal makeup.

      Four tiny, rickety tables, each with two chairs, and a row of big flowerpots filled with pansies passed for a patio at the small coffee shop just down the street from her office. Despite the gorgeous weather, she and the mother and son were the only ones outside, and the other two tables were empty.

      Washington, Quinn thought, was never more appealing than in early spring.

      She suppressed an urge to head off to Potomac Park and see the cherry trees—that would take the entire afternoon. Even native Beltway types like herself couldn’t resist the brief, incredible display of delicate pink blossoms on the more than three thousand Japanese cherry trees that lined the Tidal Basin in Potomac Park. The annual National Cherry Blossom Festival, which attracted tourists from all over the world, was winding down. In a matter of even just a day or two, the blossoms would be gone.

      The mother was on the letter D. What would D be for? Quinn smiled—duck. Had to be.

      Dinosaur.

      She took a bite of her croissant, the bittersweet chocolate center soft but not melted. An indulgence. She’d have a salad for dinner.

      “Quinn—Quinn!”

      Startled, she looked up, crumbs falling onto her iBook as she tried to see who’d called her.

      “Quinn!”

      Alicia Miller ran across the street, heading for the small patio. Instead of going around to the opening by the coffee shop’s entrance, she pushed her way between two of the oversize flowerpots, banging her knees.

      “I need your help—please.”

      Quinn immediately got to her feet. “Of course, Alicia.” She kept her voice calm. “Come on, sit down. Tell me what’s going on.”

СКАЧАТЬ