Fatal Exposure. Gail Barrett. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Gail Barrett
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472012487
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      Her flush climbing higher, she gave him a cautious nod, then wove through the half-empty restaurant, heading his way. But as she neared, he picked up on subtle details—the slight crease puckering her brow, the grooves bracketing her lush mouth, the nervous way she kept scanning the restaurant like a criminal on the lookout for cops.

      Even more on guard now, he watched as she took her seat. “You want something to drink?” he asked.

      “No, thanks. I’m good.” She pulled off her cap and shook out her tousled hair, the deep hues catching the light. Then she glanced around the room again.

      “Something wrong?”

      “What? No.” Her gaze danced back to his.

      She’s lying. The woman looked spooked as hell. “Something’s bothering you.”

      “I just thought... You came alone like I told you, right?”

      “I said I would.”

      “And you didn’t tell anyone you were coming here?”

      He cocked his head. “You accusing me of something?”

      “No, I...I just needed to be sure.”

      He worked his jaw, a spurt of annoyance hardening his voice. “I don’t lie, and I don’t go back on my word. I said I’d come alone, and I did. Now if you’ve got a problem with that, I need to know because I didn’t come here to play games.”

      Hesitating again, she searched his eyes. “I thought someone followed me here. I guess I was wrong.”

      Not quite willing to believe her, he crossed his arms. “So what’s this about a deal?”

      She lifted her backpack onto her lap, pulled out a five-by-seven black-and-white photo and placed it on the table, facing him. “This girl. Do you know who she is?”

      He dropped his gaze to the photograph. The girl was young, barely pubescent, with long blond braids and troubled eyes. He frowned, trying to place her, certain he’d seen her before. And then the memory broke loose. “You had a photo of her on your wall.” She’d been part of the homeless group.

      “But you don’t know who she is?”

      “Should I?”

      Her eyes studied his again. She gave him a nod, as if he’d confirmed something she already suspected, and put the photo away. “Her name was Erin Walker. She was a runaway. I met her on the streets a while back.”

      “Pretty young for a runaway.”

      “Some kids grow up fast.”

      He couldn’t argue that. “Go on.”

      “The police picked her up and took her home. Her parents have money, so they sent her to High Rock Camp. It’s a place in western Maryland for at-risk youth, one of those wilderness therapy camps where they do survival things.”

      “I know it.” In fact, his boss, Colonel Hugh Hoffman—the head of Baltimore’s Criminal Investigation Division—had founded the camp. And it was a great success, generating so much positive publicity it had spawned imitations in other states. It had even impressed Senator Alfred Riggs, who’d taken the Colonel under his wing, fast-tracking his political career.

      “Erin died there,” Brynn continued. “Supposedly she committed suicide.”

      Parker nodded, not sure where she was going with this. “Sad, but it happens.”

      “Not usually with a girl that young.”

      He studied her blue-gold eyes. “You don’t believe she committed suicide?”

      “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t have enough information to decide. Her family refuses to talk. She was a minor, so the papers didn’t release any details. And the camp doesn’t want bad publicity, so they’ve kept everything hushed up.”

      Realization dawned. “You want me to look into her death.”

      “I’d like to see the autopsy report and photos so I know for sure.”

      “Why?”

      Her gaze slid away. “She was a friend. I feel I owe her that much.”

      Another lie. Or at least not quite the truth. “Forget it.”

      Her gaze shot back to his. “What?”

      “I said no deal.”

      “You’re turning me down? But why?”

      “Because you’re lying.”

      “I’m not—”

      “The hell you aren’t. You’ve been lying to me from the start. You said you didn’t know my brother. You claimed you didn’t know about his death. You even lied about answering that phone. I doubt anything you’ve told me is true.”

      Her eyes went dark. A flush returned to her cheeks. “You can’t expect me to tell you everything. I don’t even know you.”

      “Baloney. If you didn’t think you could trust me, you wouldn’t have proposed this deal. Now you’re sitting here telling half-truths while I’ve played straight with you from the start.”

      “I’m not lying about this girl.”

      “You expect me to believe that?”

      “Believe what you want. But I’m telling you the truth, as much as I can right now.”

      Neither of them moved. Her angry gaze stayed locked on his. Tension crackled between them, like the atmosphere before a lightning storm.

      And despite all evidence to the contrary, despite knowing that she’d lied, he realized she’d played him to perfection, piquing his interest about the case. Because if there was any chance she was right...

      He shook his head, hoping the motion would dispel this lunacy and knock some sense back into his muddled brain. “It doesn’t matter. There’s still no deal.”

      “But—”

      “It’s not my case. It’s not even in my jurisdiction.” Questioning a potential suspect was one thing. But meddling in someone else’s investigation... “I’d be putting my job on the line—and for what? To satisfy your curiosity? To pass some sort of litmus test you’ve devised?”

      “You want me to take a risk and tell you about Tommy’s death.”

      “It’s not the same.”

      “You’re right. It’s not the same thing at all. You might lose your job. Big deal. I’ve got more to lose than that.”

      “Like what?”

      “Nothing.” She shrugged into her coat and stood. “Forget it. I should have known I was wasting my time talking to a cop.” She swung her backpack onto her shoulder and stalked across the room, then shoved open the door to the street.

      Parker scrambled to his feet, his temper mounting as he strode after her outside. What right did she have to test him? She was the suspect. He was the one who couldn’t trust her.

      He caught up with her on the sidewalk and grabbed her arm. She wheeled around and glared back. “Get your hands off me.”

      “Or what? You’ll elbow me in the head again?”

      “I should.”

      “Try it, and I’ll haul you in right now.”

      “Fine. Go ahead and arrest me,” she countered, shaking her slender arm loose. “But you’ll never find out the truth that way.”

      “You don’t think I can find out what happened to Tommy without your help?”

      “I know you can’t.”

      Parker opened his mouth