Stonebrook Cottage. Carla Neggers

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СКАЧАТЬ Kara thought. Henry and Lillian’s story had to be bogus. It was the only reasonable conclusion, and it meant their mother and the people at the dude ranch were still worried sick about them. It meant the searches for them would continue. It meant all hell would be breaking loose in Texas and Connecticut until someone tracked them to their godmother’s doorstep—or until Kara called her brother and told him what was going on.

      Lillian yawned, her book looking heavy on her skinny thighs.

      “Don’t you two want to call your mother and tell her you arrived safely?” Kara asked.

      Henry seemed to know she was trying to trip him up. “She told us not to call. You’re supposed to take us to Stonebrook Cottage and wait for her there. Doesn’t she say that in the letter?”

      He’d know if he wrote it, wouldn’t he? Kara tried to keep her skepticism from showing. Her godchildren had gone through a lot of trouble to get her to believe them—it was important to them. She needed to be very careful about how she unraveled their story.

      Lillian lifted her thin shoulders. “We’re just doing what Mom told us to do.”

      Kara returned to her armchair, sinking into its soft cushions. She was still hot, the cooler air making little difference, and she was tired and torn about how to proceed.

      One thing she knew for certain. The kids’ story had a million holes.

      “Aunt Kara, you’re a lawyer, right?”

      She narrowed her eyes on her godson, wondering what was coming next. “Yes, why?”

      “I was just making sure. If you’re a lawyer, that means everything we tell you is confidential. You can’t tell anyone. Right?”

      Kara stared at him. “Henry, I’m a lawyer, but I’m not your lawyer.”

      “But that’s why Mom sent us to you! She said we can trust you because you’re our lawyer. Aunt Kara, you can’t tell anyone! We trusted you!” He balled his hands into fists, his mouth set, his face screwed up with determination. “We wouldn’t have said anything if we didn’t think you were our lawyer.”

      “You mean you told me this whole story believing I was representing you? Henry, Lillian—I’m your godmother. I can’t be your attorney! Well, I can be, but I’d need explicit permission from your mother, or a court would have to appoint a guardian ad litem for you and then you could hire me.” Kara groaned, her head screaming now. “I’m not your lawyer, so get that out of your heads.”

      Henry was near panic. “But that’s the only reason we told you—”

      “Hold on—relax.” Kara got back to her feet, wondering who was in control of this situation, her or the kids. “If you told me this whole tale believing I was acting as your attorney and it was privileged information, then that’s what it is. Privileged information. I can’t tell anyone.”

      “We’re not fugitives.” Lillian was blinking back tears, clearly exhausted. “We didn’t break any laws.”

      Kara studied the two tired, frightened children. Something was wrong. Their story didn’t add up, but they hadn’t run off just because they were bored. Maybe Big Mike’s death was too much for them—maybe they’d overreacted to innocent events and created some wild scenario involving secrets and grave danger and were so wrapped up in it that, at this point, they couldn’t distinguish fiction from reality.

      Regardless of their motives, however real their fear, they were here now, and they were her obligation. Her sole obligation. Nothing else mattered. Connecticut politics, bluebird theories, concerned authorities in two states, not even their mother. If Allyson wrote the letter, she had to be out of her mind. If she didn’t write the letter, she would expect Kara to do her best to sort out the situation and get Henry and Lillian safely home as soon as possible.

      “We could call your mom on her cell phone—”

       “No!” Henry yelled in panic, and Lillian almost cried. “We can’t call her. She told us not to call. We’re supposed to have you take us to Stonebrook Cottage and wait. Aunt Kara, please, you have to believe us!”

      “All right, all right. Look, you two need baths and a good night’s sleep. I only have one bedroom, but you can share my bed. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.” Kara hugged them, one arm around each one, as they got up from the couch. “Let’s get some rest and come at this fresh in the morning.”

      Henry looked up at her, his thin face etched with concern. “Then what?”

      “I don’t know, but I’m on your side. Okay? Do not doubt that for one second.” She thought a moment, the bare bones of a plan coming together. One way or another, these kids were going back to Connecticut. “Unless I have good reason to do otherwise—you tell me it’s a forgery, or I find out by other means or get new information—I’m going to do what it says in your mother’s letter and get you to Stonebrook Cottage.” She thought of the trail they’d left and didn’t imagine they had much time if they were going to keep this little adventure among themselves and out of the public eye. But she needed to think. Staying a step ahead of Jack and Sam now that she’d enlisted their help—and aroused their suspicions—wouldn’t be easy. “Don’t be surprised or scared if I have to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

      Lillian’s eyes widened. “Why would you have to do that?”

      “Her brother’s a Texas Ranger.” Henry whispered as if the place was bugged. “Everyone at the ranch probably got nervous when they couldn’t find us and called the police or something.”

      His sister gasped. “Oh! Does that make us fugitives?”

      “It doesn’t matter. Aunt Kara will help us. Big Mike used to say she was the best defense lawyer he ever knew.”

      “Big Mike exaggerated,” Kara said. “Go on, you two. Get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m not worried about my brother.”

      Well, she was, but she was more worried about Sam Temple. He’d made it plain he hadn’t liked the call from Zoe West. When he found out the missing Stockwell kids sneaked a ride to Austin—and he would—he’d be in full Texas Ranger, by-the-book law enforcement mode. Kara didn’t object to him doing his job, but his interests weren’t necessarily compatible with her sense of obligation to her godchildren. She needed to get them back to their mother as soon, and as quietly, as possible.

      There was nothing by-the-book about this situation.

      She led Henry and Lillian down a short hall to her bedroom and the bathroom. Lillian was the first in the tub, Henry next, and twenty minutes later, the lights were out and they were asleep.

      Kara cleaned up their popcorn mess and flopped onto the couch, rereading the letter purportedly from Allyson. You’re the only one I can trust right now…don’t call me…I have no other choice.

      It had to be phony.

      And Henry not mentioning attorney-client privilege until after he and Lillian had told Kara everything—what a ploy.

      “Smart-ass. He knew what he was doing.”

      She ground her teeth and placed her palm on her lower abdomen, but her nausea had finally abated. It had to be seafood СКАЧАТЬ