The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,57

around children. And she’d always felt well appreciated and respected by the mothers of the children she cared for.

If, by chance, she sometimes wished for a life of more excitement, she brushed it off quickly. When her mother reminded her that she’d made no time for courting or sweethearts, or even the opportunity to meet men, she’d made excuses.

But then she met Chris. With one look . . . that man, so different from her, had ignited every nerve. With one smile . . . she’d begun to think that maybe she was more than who she’d thought.

And now he was gone—in company of men she didn’t trust.

What if he never returned? She would always feel guilty that she hadn’t done more to help him.

As the silence continued and Frannie and Luke eyed each other warily, Beth knew she would go out of her mind if she didn’t say anything.

And so she did. “Would you two like some coffee or tea?”

Both looked at her blankly. Like she’d just offered them funnel cakes, or some other strange food.

Luke was about to answer when he turned abruptly and strode toward the window. “A black Suburban just pulled up. Does this look like the same vehicle, Beth?”

She scurried to the window. Feeling like she was a spy, or worse, Beth peeked around him. Though she couldn’t be absolutely sure, it definitely looked enough like the vehicle she’d seen Chris leave in the evening before for her to nod.

Her breath caught as one of the doors opened. Then she saw a boot, a jean-covered leg. And finally Chris himself.

He wore sunglasses and walked with an easy stride toward the inn’s front door. He didn’t look back toward the car behind him. Not even when it slowly moved forward, gathered speed, then drove out of sight.

She was just wondering why he’d never looked back when the door handle turned.

Darting around Luke, she raced to the door.

“No. Stay quiet, Beth,” Luke warned.

“But—”

“I mean it.”

“Please listen to him,” Frannie pleaded. “He could be dangerous.”

Only for Frannie did she keep silent as Chris entered the room. The moment the door closed behind him, his whole posture changed. Almost as if he was pulling off a costume, he looked less cocky and sure. More exhausted.

No, completely exhausted. And maybe in pain, too?

When he saw them standing in a line, all staring at him, he stopped abruptly and scowled. “What’s going on?”

“I want to know who you are,” Luke said.

Still wearing his sunglasses, Beth felt rather than saw his gaze move from Luke’s to hers to Frannie. “Name’s Chris Ellis.”

“Who do you work for?” Luke’s voice was clipped and full of authority, and it was evident to Beth that Chris didn’t care for that tone one bit.

His chin rose. “Who I work for is none of your business.”

“Actually, it is. I’m with the police.”

“You’re with the Cincinnati Police,” Chris pointed out as he crossed his arms across his chest. “We’re here in Kentucky. And unless you say I’ve done something wrong in Cincinnati, I don’t owe you anything.”

To her amazement, Luke backed off. If he was surprised that Chris knew who he was and where he was from, he didn’t let on. But his body seemed to change, too.

Before her eyes, his shoulders relaxed, as did the muscle jumping in his jaw. Little by little, he became less territorial and abrasive and more friendly. Almost easygoing. “You’re right,” he said. “You don’t owe me a thing. But I’d appreciate some candor. Professionally speaking.”

Chris sighed. “Fine, but not here. Not in front of the women.”

“No, I think we should be able to hear,” Beth said. Surprising even herself.

Everyone in the room turned her way.

“And why is that?” Chris asked.

Now she felt a little embarrassed about her gumption. But not enough to backtrack. “I want to hear what you have to say. Because . . . because I saw the gun in your room. And because I’m involved now, too.”

All at once, Frannie gasped, Luke rested his head against the wall in frustration, and Chris pulled off his sunglasses and glared at her. “You searched my room?” he nearly shouted.

But she didn’t care about what tone of voice he used. She wasn’t afraid of him. Because all she could do was stare at his face. His once smooth, tan skin . . . was now cut and bruised.

One of his eyes was swollen shut.

Without thinking, she rushed to him and pressed her palm lightly on his cheek. “Oh my heavens, Chris! Someone