The General's Secretary. Debby Giusti
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СКАЧАТЬ instantly knew he liked both of them. His gaze returned to the other photo. Although the picture had faded, he could see the resemblance between Lillie and the woman holding her, no doubt Irene Beaumont.

      Had his father killed her? Dawson’s gut tightened. Turning away from the mantel, he headed for the kitchen and refilled his mug.

      Outside, the fog had lifted, and as he sipped the coffee, the sun colored the horizon.

      “I need to apologize for my actions at the diner.”

      Dawson turned at the sound of Lillie’s voice. She had combed her hair and changed into a stylish dress that hugged her curves and made his breath jam in his throat.

      “I...I was only thinking of myself and my job and what’s happening at Fort Rickman.” Her pretty eyes were filled with compassion. “Your father died this morning. I’m...I’m sorry.”

      He placed his mug in the sink. “I never knew him. Never talked to him until he called a few nights ago. He...he wanted to meet.”

      Dawson pulled in a breath. “My father had rejected me all my life, so I rejected him. Only now—” He shrugged, unable to find the words to express the way he felt.

      She took a step closer. “Granger wanted to make it up to you. He didn’t want his son to be ashamed of him.”

      Since the trial, Dawson had blocked his father out of his life. He hadn’t talked about him or acknowledged him or allowed him into his heart. It was easier to deny him than to accept who his father had been—a convict, a criminal, a killer.

      “I went into law enforcement to right the wrongs my father had committed. Now I find out he may not have been the man I thought he was. That’s hard to get my mind around.”

      Dawson glanced out the window, wondering what the new day would bring. If he had made a mistake about his father, maybe there were other things he needed to reconsider, but he couldn’t share his feelings with Lillie. Not now. Not when they were involved in a murder investigation. Even if the victim was his dad.

      * * *

      As Lillie watched the confusion play over Dawson’s face, the memories from her own childhood bubbled up within her. “After my mother disappeared, I cried myself to sleep night after night. More than anything, I wanted a normal life, someone to love me, to tuck me in when I went to bed and help me get dressed in the morning.”

      She pulled in a fragile breath. “I was fortunate the McKinneys took me in. They were patient and loving, but at four years old, I wanted my own mother to wrap me in her arms.”

      With a rueful smile, she added, “Sometimes I think I never stopped mourning her loss, and as much as I wanted to block out everything that had happened, I feared the McKinneys would be taken from me as well.”

      Understanding mellowed Dawson’s gaze and made her question why she told him things she had never told anyone else. She reached for her purse, trying to shield herself from what she saw in Dawson’s eyes.

      “I can’t be late for work.”

      He grabbed her hand. “Lillie.”

      She stopped and looked up, her breath stalled by his closeness.

      “I’m sorry,” he said.

      She tried to smile. “Life can be a tough place for kids, but I...I shouldn’t have mentioned my own problems, Dawson. You have enough of your own.”

      “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” His voice was gentle, like the morning mist.

      As much as she wanted to believe him, she had spent her whole life covering up the pain of being a child left behind. She couldn’t admit the way she really felt to anyone. Especially not to a man whose crystal-blue eyes could see into her heart.

      She dug her keys out of her purse and tilted her head, trying to lighten her tone and her expression. “I don’t want to keep General Cameron waiting.”

      Dawson nodded and followed her outside. “You lead. I’ll take up the rear.”

      “Once we get to post, I’ll be fine.”

      He opened her car door. “I’ll follow you to your office.”

      She climbed behind the wheel. He closed the door and gazed through the car window. “Lock your doors,” he mouthed.

      So like a cop, but she complied with his request, feeling oddly relieved that someone was concerned about her well-being. Dawson was probably just doing his job. No reason for her to jump to any other conclusion, which she continued to tell herself as they entered Fort Rickman and drove toward post headquarters.

      Lillie parked close to the building and met up with him on the sidewalk. “Thank you.”

      His hand touched her back. “I’ll follow you inside.”

      Her cheeks flushed as they hurried along the walkway and climbed the steps. Dawson held the door for her, and her heels clicked along the tile floor.

      She stopped in front of the elevator.

      “Let’s take the stairs,” he suggested.

      The elevator door opened and she stepped inside. “This will be faster.”

      He hesitated before joining her. As the door closed, Lillie could tell something was wrong. Dawson’s face paled. He licked his lips and clenched his fist until the doors opened on the second floor.

      She stepped onto the landing. “I take it you don’t like elevators.”

      “Actually, the problem is confined spaces.”

      “I’ll try to remember that.” She pointed him toward the general’s suite, located at the far end of the hallway.

      Dawson studied the long corridor, probably assessing her safety. Leaving him to do his job, she entered the office and nodded to the general’s aide.

      “Morning, Mark.”

      Medium height with broad shoulders and a military haircut, Captain Mark Banks stood near her desk, holding a phone to his ear. Hopefully he hadn’t retrieved the message concerning Dawson.

      “I was worried, Lillie.” He held her gaze longer than necessary.

      As much as the aide wanted to be part of her life, Lillie had rejected his advances. She didn’t need a relationship with someone with whom she shared an office or worked with on a daily basis.

      “The CID called.” His brow creased with concern. “They said you were involved in a shooting.”

      Dawson had evidently completed his hallway security check because, at that moment, he entered the outer office and glanced from Lillie to the general’s aide.

      Mark squared his shoulders. “You’re from the CID?”

      “That’s right. Special Agent Dawson Timmons.” He flashed his identification.

      “Lillie’s СКАЧАТЬ