The Secret Sister. Brenda Novak

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ didn’t mention where he was going?”

      “Not to me.”

      “Did he take the truck?” He might be on foot. The ferry wasn’t more than three miles from the house—a walkable distance. Or if he’d really wanted to piss Josephine off, he could’ve taken the Mercedes and left it at the wharf for her to collect later.

      “I’m afraid I don’t know that, either, Miss Lazarow.”

      “You can call me Maisey. Would you mind checking?”

      “On the truck?”

      “Yes. I need to use it.”

      “Um, okay.” She seemed surprised by the request but reluctant to say no. “If you’ll hang on a moment...”

      Maisey was massaging her temples, cursing herself for being so misguided as to think she could help someone as volatile as her brother, when Clarissa came back on the line.

      “Tyrone said your brother did take the truck.”

      Was there any chance he could be on his way over?

      If so, he’d answer his phone, wouldn’t he?

      Unless he’d lost it or forgotten it somewhere...

      “Do you know when he left?” she asked.

      This time there was no hesitation before Clarissa answered. “It’s been nearly two hours.”

      Then he wasn’t coming to Smuggler’s Cove. He could’ve driven around the entire island at least twice in two hours. She wanted to find out whether he’d left in a rage, but she doubted Clarissa would know—or confirm it if she did. Josephine trained her staff well. They would protect the family’s privacy, or they’d be sued for breach of contract and no longer have a job. Clarissa knew the time of Keith’s departure, which suggested he’d given her reason to notice it. That was about the only indication Maisey felt she was going to get.

      Poor Clarissa. If there’d been a scene like one of the many Maisey had witnessed in her lifetime, the girl had probably felt like cowering in a corner.

      “Do you have any idea when he might return?” By this point, Maisey thought the question was futile, but had to ask.

      “We aren’t expecting him anytime soon,” she replied.

      “Is he safe?” she asked in a small voice.

      “Excuse me, miss?”

      “Never mind. Thank you.” After she disconnected, she slid her phone halfway across the porch; she could no longer bear to look at it, after that news. “What the hell am I going to do now?” she asked aloud. The possibility that Keith might try to harm himself terrified her. But she couldn’t help him if she didn’t know where he was. At the moment, she wasn’t in a good situation herself. She didn’t have so much as a blanket or a pillow.

      And it was growing dark.

      * * *

      The beach was cold and damp, but there was nowhere soft enough to lie down in the bungalow, and nothing to cover up with. Hugging herself, Maisey tried to go back to sleep. She wasn’t ready to wake up, was exhausted in a bone-deep way. With dawn breaking, she hoped it would get warm quickly and she’d be able to nap for a couple of hours before she had to face the day.

       “Maisey? Is that you?”

      Startled to realize she had company, she came more fully awake and squinted at the man standing over her. He looked like a giant amorphous shape surrounded by a halo of bright sunlight. At first she had no idea who he was. But after she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she saw that it was only Rafe, wearing jogging clothes and a pack-like contraption strapped to his back that made him appear larger than he was.

      Maisey’s face grew instantly hot. She was wearing several layers of clothes—almost everything in her suitcase. She must look like some kind of homeless person. Which, in fact, she was...

      Scrambling to her feet despite the restriction caused by all those layers, she started brushing away the sand clinging to her cheek, hair and clothes. “Sorry. I—I didn’t mean to alarm you. I didn’t expect anyone to be on the beach this early.”

      “I’m just glad you’re breathing,” he said. “I had a terrible feeling I’d discovered your...never mind.”

      The glare of the sun made it hard to interpret Rafe’s expression. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but his tone conveyed surprise.

      Once she shaded her eyes, she was surprised herself. The contraption on his back was a child carrier, and there was a child in it—a girl, who had to be five or six, with blond pigtails and sunglasses.

      Why was he carrying such a large child? And on a run? Most people found it challenging to exercise without the extra weight. But...he looked stronger than a lot of men. Maybe that was how he’d gotten to be so muscular. Maybe he liked to push himself.

      “Why are you down here?” he asked. He didn’t add, “Looking like that,” but she heard it in his voice. “Did you lose your key? If you couldn’t get in, you should’ve come to my place. I would’ve helped you.”

      She cleared her throat. “No, I’ve got the key.”

      He gestured at the indentation her body had made in the sand. “Then what’s this about?”

      Maisey was relieved when the child spoke, because it saved her from having to come up with an answer. She wasn’t sure what to say. Her mother was so private, and Rafe worked for her mother...

      “Who is it, Daddy?”

      Daddy? Yesterday, when she first saw Rafe, Maisey hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might have children. Had he ever been married?

      “It’s our new neighbor, sweetheart,” Rafe replied.

      “Our neighbor?” the child echoed. “We have a neighbor?”

      “We do now. Her name is Maisey Lazarow.”

      Wrinkling her nose, the girl rolled her head back; she seemed to be looking at the sky instead of at Maisey. “She doesn’t sound like Mrs. Lazarow.”

      “Because she’s not,” he said. “This is her daughter.”

      “Silly!” she said with a laugh. “She doesn’t have a daughter.”

      He adjusted the pack. “Maisey moved away a while ago. And now she’s back.”

      Curiosity lit her face as she sobered. “How old is she?”

      The way they were talking—as if Maisey wasn’t right in front of them—seemed odd. If those sunglasses made it difficult for the child to see, why didn’t she remove them?

      “Thirty-four,” Maisey volunteered, but that was an unexpected question. Generally, to a child of that age, an adult was an adult. But this girl СКАЧАТЬ