On The Texas Border. Linda Warren

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ have to ask Mr. Brewster,” she replied evenly.

      “Have you got your eye on Uncle Simon’s money?” Jules asked nastily.

      Before Abby could respond, Edna moved close to her. “Let me tell you something, missy. Take your little notepad and tape recorder and get the hell away from Simon.”

      “Ms. Duncan,” a nurse called from the doorway. “Mr. Brewster will see you now.”

      “What?” Edna choked. “We’ve been waiting much longer than she has.”

      The nurse stepped into the room. “Mr. Brewster asked that you all go home. He only wants to see Ms. Duncan.”

      “That’s ridiculous,” Edna hissed. “We’re his family.” She pointed at Abby. “She’s nothing.”

      “I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “Those are Mr. Brewster’s wishes.”

      “Well, I never.” Edna expelled a long breath and sank heavily into a chair.

      Abby followed the nurse out the door, but not before she heard Jules say, “We have to put a stop to this.”

      Oh God, Abby thought. She didn’t want to be here and she was certainly no threat to them.

      The nurse showed her into a darkened room. Mr. Brewster lay in the bed, hooked to machines and oxygen. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow.

      “Come in, Abigail.”

      His voice sounded strong enough. She stepped closer to the bed. “You wanted to see me?”

      “Yes, I’m glad you came.”

      She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

      His fatigued brown eyes stared at her. “Don’t look so scared, Abigail. I’m not dead yet.”

      “I…I…” She wasn’t scared, but words wouldn’t come. The room, the machines and the hospital reminded her of her father’s last days. He’d been in excruciating pain and his heart had been filled with sorrow—mostly caused by this man.

      “I have a favor to ask of you.” His voice penetrated her troubled thoughts.

      She found her voice. “If it’s about the memoirs—”

      He stopped her. “No, it isn’t.”

      Abby swallowed. “What is it, then?”

      He took a ragged breath. “Many years ago I had an affair with a Mexican girl who worked in my house.”

      Abby was taken aback by the statement. She had expected to hear a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. She forced herself to listen.

      “She had a child, a girl, whom I refused to acknowledge as my daughter. She left and returned to Mexico with the baby. I don’t deserve anything from them, but I have to see my daughter’s face before I die.”

      Abby shook her head. “I’m not sure how this concerns me.”

      “I want you to find my daughter,” was his shocking reply.

      “What?”

      “You heard me.”

      “Mr. Brewster, I’m not a detective. You need a private investigator.”

      “No.” He shook his head. “They would drag this out for money and leak tidbits to the papers. I won’t have that. You’re a reporter. You can do this. The mother’s name is Delores Alvarez. Jonas has all the information on her in his files. He’ll go with you.”

      A man moved from the shadows, and until that moment, Abby hadn’t even realized Jonas was in the room.

      “I’m not going,” Jonas said tersely. “I already told you that.”

      “You’ll do what I tell you to do,” Mr. Brewster roared, his face turning red in anger.

      “Calm down, Mr. Brewster,” the nurse ordered.

      Mr. Brewster took a couple of deep breaths. “I own you, Jonas,” he murmured. “Remember that.”

      Abby wondered what the old man meant, but didn’t have time to ponder it. She could see that Jonas wasn’t backing down. A full-fledged argument was about to erupt.

      “Mr. Brewster, I’m not searching for your daughter,” she told him before the situation got out of control. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. There are reputable people who can help you. Besides, you should concentrate on getting better and—”

      “You have to do it,” he breathed heavily. “You’re a woman close to her age. She’ll listen to you. Tell her I’m sorry. I just want to see her. That’s all.”

      Abby inhaled deeply, trying to understand this strange request. “Mr. Brewster, I can’t, but—”

      “No,” he cut in, took a breath, then asked, “Why did you agree to write my memoirs?”

      Thrown by the question, Abby chewed on the inside of her lip, searching for the right words. Her motive was not altruistic, and she had difficulty telling him that. She didn’t understand why. Mr. Brewster had hurt her father, so she shouldn’t worry about his feelings.

      “What’s the matter, Abigail?” he taunted. “You think the truth will hurt me?”

      “I…”

      “Nothing touches me anymore. My heart is like a rock. I’m not sure what’s keeping me alive.”

      “I keep wondering the same thing,” Jonas slipped in.

      “You see, Abigail, Jonas knows me, and he keeps waiting for me to draw my last breath. Not because he’s after my money but because he wants his freedom. But he will never be free of me…not even when I die.”

      Abby threw up her hands. “Okay, I’ve had enough. This is getting weird, and I’m not getting involved.” She turned toward the door.

      “You agreed to write my memoirs to get information about your father.”

      She swung around, her eyes huge in her pale face.

      “What?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You think I didn’t know?”

      Abby swallowed hard. She felt as if she were a puppet and he were pulling her strings, manipulating her. She didn’t like that feeling…not one little bit.

      “Here’s the deal, Abigail Duncan,” he went on. “You want something, and I want something. Let’s hammer out the details.”

      “You think you can manipulate me?”

      His eyes stared into hers. “Yes,” he answered. “And I’ll tell you why. You’re a reporter and you need to clear Abe Duncan’s name. I’m the only one who can do that.” He paused, then СКАЧАТЬ