Father and Child Reunion. Christine Flynn

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ be barreling up the steps in a matter of minutes.

      “You know, Eve, it’s possible that you know more than you realize.”

      “I really don’t think so.”

      “Are you willing to talk to me to find out?”

      She didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll do whatever I can to find out who did this to Mom. And I’ll answer your questions.” Praying the bus wouldn’t be early, she glanced nervously toward the door. “I just can’t do it now.”

      “Are you expecting someone?”

      The man was observant to a fault.

      She told him she was and started across the room. “This isn’t a good time to talk.”

      “Then, I’ll come by later. Just give me a time.”

      “No! No,” she repeated, more quietly. “I’ll meet you tomorrow. In the morning. Is that okay?”

      More curious about her reaction than about whoever she was expecting, he lifted his shoulder in a deceptively casual shrug. “Sure. When?”

      “Is nine all right?”

      She was already at the door. Rio was right behind her, wondering what had put the sudden tension in her slender shoulders. She was definitely more agitated than she’d been a moment ago, and far more evasive. He’d already noticed how she tended to avoid his eyes. But he wanted to think that was only because she was feeling a little guilty about the way she’d dumped him. Anxious as she was to get rid of him now, however, he couldn’t help thinking she was hiding something.

      Whatever it was, he told himself, unless it had to do with Olivia Stuart’s murder, he didn’t care about it.

      She opened the door, standing back so he could pass. He didn’t move, though. The doorway was blocked.

      “You have company,” he quietly said, and watched with interest as the color drained from her face in the instant before she whirled around.

      “You’d think the incompetents at the Herald would hire people with a decent aim, wouldn’t you?” A large woman with a headful of silver waves, silver-rimmed glasses and wearing a peacock blue pantsuit, held out a newspaper. “Yours was in the arborvitae. I found ours in my rosebushes. Yesterday, he missed the fountain by an inch.”

      “Millicent,” Eve murmured, her hand leaving her throat to open the screen and reach for the paper the sprinkler had soaked. “Come in.”

      “I can’t, dear.” She cast a pleasant smile toward the darkly attractive man by Eve’s shoulder, but just as she opened her mouth to continue, she recognized the reporter who’d interviewed most of the neighbors following Olivia’s death. “Well, Mr. Redtree. I didn’t realize you were here. How nice to see you again.”

      A surprisingly easy smile deepened the masculine creases in Rio’s cheeks. “Mrs. Atwell,” he replied, acknowledging her with a nod.

      The light in his eyes had color creeping up Millicent’s neck. “Oh, my. What I said about the paper, that doesn’t reflect on you, of course. About the incompetents, I mean. I was talking about the kids who deliver the paper. But you must know that.” Jeweled rings glittering, she waved the matter off, her curiosity overruling embarrassment. “Did I interrupt an interview?”

      “I was just leaving.”

      “Well, I still won’t keep you.” She turned to Eve. “I’m on my way to a hair appointment and I’m already late. I just wanted to let you know that the cleaning service I use can do the house for you if you’d like. I know your mother wasn’t very happy with the one she’d been using, so you might have better luck with this new company. Should I have someone come over to give you an estimate?”

      Looking rushed, yet trying not to, Eve cast a cautious glance toward Rio. He seemed in no rush at all.

      “That’s awfully nice of you,” Eve told the woman, wishing Millicent had waited thirty seconds more to show up. That was all the time she and Rio needed to settle where they’d meet and he could leave. “But I’m going to take care of the house myself. If you know of anyone who does exterior windows, though, I’d appreciate their name.”

      It was apparent from the slow arch of Millicent’s carefully plucked eyebrows that she regarded Eve’s decision to clean the house herself as somewhat extraordinary. In their social circle, it probably was. But Eve didn’t offer an explanation about why she couldn’t leave the task to strangers. Nor did she mention that she’d done her own cleaning for years. She simply waited for Millicent to tell her she would be happy to give her the name of a man she could call while the knots in her stomach cloned themselves.

      “I really must go,” the woman finally said, casting one more glance at the man watching Eve. “I don’t want to lose my appointment.”

      Eve didn’t want her to, either. As good a neighbor as Millicent had always been to her family and as kind as she’d been to her and Molly lately, Eve just wanted her to leave. So she thanked her again, then watched the sides of her blue silk jacket flutter behind her as she hurried down the steps.

      Rio paid little attention to her departing neighbor. Trying to do the same with Eve, he pulled his keys from his pocket, then skimmed a glance over the delicate contours of her face. She looked tired. And edgy. He could appreciate the latter. Standing close enough to breathe the decidedly provocative perfume she wore had tightened every single muscle in his body.

      “Nine’s fine,” he told her, taking up where they’d been interrupted. “Where?”

      Eve didn’t miss a beat. “The miner’s memorial in Vanderbilt Park?”

      He gave her nod as tight as the muscle in his jaw and trotted down the steps, his long, powerful strides carrying him to the black Durango at the curb. He didn’t care where they met so long as he got what he was after. If he was anything like he used to be, all he cared about was reaching his goal.

      Eve was trembling when she stepped out onto the porch behind him and watched him pull away. The relief she felt that the bus hadn’t yet arrived was enormous. But she didn’t feel any sense of reprieve. As she lifted her face to the warm breeze and tried to calm her mind, she felt only a growing sense of apprehension—and a vague sense of loss that made no sense at all, considering how long it had been since she’d seen him. But then, her relationship with Rio Redtree hadn’t been based on common sense, anyway.

      She had no trouble at all recalling the very first time she’d laid eyes on him, and she still couldn’t help but think that he never should have noticed her at all. She’d been a lowly freshman with a nose for art books and an outstanding ability to blend in with the scenery. Ever since she’d skipped fifth grade, she’d been the youngest kid in her class, and the smallest. That first day at Grand Springs University, among all the older college students, she’d felt totally out of place. But whether or not a heart-stoppingly handsome, slightly dangerous-looking upperclassman with a long black ponytail should have noticed her, Rio had singled her out of a hundred Spanish class students and sat down behind her. She could still remember the hair on her neck standing straight up when he’d leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

      His voice had mesmerized her as surely as his words. Low, husky and as soothing as the sound of wind deep in a forest, his voice had seemed to flow over her, through her. СКАЧАТЬ