Название: The Missing Twin
Автор: Pamela Tracy
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474048248
isbn:
That was something Angela hadn’t asked the sheriff about: Jake’s family.
“I’m surprised he’s not married. He’s—”
“Good-looking,” Betsy agreed.
“Does Jake have family nearby?” Angela queried, surprised that the thought of him being alone bothered her.
“I’m not sure.”
Celia cleared her throat. “Mom, we still need to go to Tucson for shoes.”
Angela headed for the counter, took her wallet from her purse and waited for Betsy to calculate the amount. Angela fingered the black-and-white outfit and even though she’d told herself to take it slow, she took a chance. “So, I might see this outfit in red if I’m in town long enough?”
“I really don’t think so,” Betsy said. “Abigail Tetterman is what I call a professional shopper. She knows as much about thread count and quality as I do. She came in at least once a week, but I haven’t seen her in about three months, so I’m pretty sure she moved on.”
The bell on the front door tinkled as another customer came in. Betsy pointed out a purse that would go perfectly with Angela’s new black-and-white outfit, then moved to greet her next customer.
It had only been just over a week and Angela had a name. Abigail Tetterman. No wonder the Feds were so strict about following protocol.
Looking down at the outfit draped over her arm, Angela could almost hear her sister’s voice. “You don’t have to worry about me. Worry about Celia.”
In Angela’s world, worry was a bit like love.
There was enough for everyone.
“WHO’S ABIGAIL AND why did you ask so many questions about her?” Celia asked.
Angela thought Celia had been too involved in her shopping to overhear, but apparently not.
From the time Celia was old enough, she’d known Marena as Aunt Lorraine. It was easier than trying to explain name changes to a child. Telling Celia that Abigail—Angela had a name!—was her aunt Lorraine didn’t seem a good idea since Abigail was missing. Sometimes sticking close to the truth seemed impossible.
“Abigail’s someone I used to hang around with. I was hoping she was still in this area.”
“Really?”
“What do you mean really?” Angela knew how to turn one question into another.
“Well,” Celia said, “you’ve never talked about anyone named Abigail. You never talk about the people you used to know at all.”
“It might be time to change that,” Angela said. “But Abigail lived here a long time ago, so I’m not expecting much.”
Luckily, Celia didn’t ask anything else. Soon they left Interstate 10 and drove toward the heart of Tucson, a vibrant, good-sized city with a rich history that seemed to meld with the present. Tiny bungalows lined the streets. Then came the University of Arizona. School must be starting soon. Everywhere she looked young people waved to each other from bicycles, sat around outdoor restaurant tables and walked in groups. Celia pressed herself against the window.
She’d been hearing about college since she started kindergarten. Her eyes held the hopefulness of youth. Angela remembered feeling the same way. But Celia’s dream wasn’t just college; it was staying in the same place for four years and making friends.
Angela held back a sigh. Celia always picked up on her moods. No way could Angela explain how she was feeling right now. One mention of Abigail had inspired Angela to want to find out more without delay.
Abigail had been in Scorpion Ridge, just as she’d told Angela, just as Buck Topher had reiterated. The Feds hadn’t sent her anywhere else. No, they were pretty well done with the Erickson girls. They’d already helped them relocate, find jobs, start a new life.
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