You Betrayed Me (The Cahills #3) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,36
side of the story.”
“My side?” That sounded bad. “There are no sides.”
“Of course,” she said with a smile, though she was craning her neck to peer around him and view the interior of the house, his house. “What I meant was, I’d like to publish the truth.”
“Talk to the police.”
“Again, I’d like to hear what you have to say.” She seemed so earnest, her eyes beseeching his. “I went to the hospital but was turned away.”
“Look, Ms. Spritz. I just got home, and tonight isn’t a good time.”
“Tomorrow then?” She seized on the idea.
“No.”
“The citizens of Riggs Crossing have questions.”
“Don’t we all?”
He started to close the door.
“You’re Riggs Crossing’s golden boy. The man who comes from San Francisco and makes good in this small town.”
“I’m not from San Francisco.”
“But your family is,” she reminded. She dug in the pocket of her coat, retrieved a card, and thrust it at him.
Bobby snatched it from her gloved fingers.
“Tomorrow,” she said as he shut the door.
“That was rude.” Bobby stared down at the business card.
James closed his eyes for a second and thought he heard a floorboard squeak overhead. “What was that?”
“I think you may have unwanted guests upstairs. Ralph went nuts at the attic door. Must be a nest of critters up there.”
James frowned, but found he didn’t care as he looked through the window and watched Charity Spritz’s silver van drive back through the gate and along the lane leading to the main road. Good. “You get my things?” he asked Bobby.
“Right here.” Bobby held up the plastic sack from the hospital. It was obviously fuller than it had been when they’d arrived.
“Let’s go.” He was tired and just wanted to lie down.
“Okay, but I think it’d be in your best interest to talk to that reporter,” Bobby advised as they walked back through the destroyed dining room and kitchen. “If Megan doesn’t show up, it’s only gonna get worse. Wouldn’t hurt to have a friend in the press.”
“I’ll think about it,” he promised and watched as Ralph lagged back, whining at the base of the stairs.
“Fool dog,” Bobby muttered. “He’s been acting strange ever since that night—ever since you’ve been gone.”
James gave a sharp whistle, and Ralph bounded into the kitchen. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER 12
Rebecca expelled a long, pent-up breath.
Phew.
She literally almost wiped her brow.
The house was dead quiet and had been for ten minutes. She was alone. No sound of the dog whining or paws clicking, no conversation from downstairs, no longer any strip of light under the door. Just the rumble of air through the heat ducts and the pounding of her own heart.
She’d heard them leave and now peered through a slit in the blinds as the headlights of a van lit up the lane and disappeared around the corner. She waited at the window until the red glow of taillights vanished through the veil of falling snow.
Carefully, mentally crossing her fingers, she inched to the door, then hesitated, her hand on the knob.
What if they’d left the dog?
She thought she’d heard the shepherd commanded to “Come,” but wasn’t certain what that had meant. Had he taken the dog with him, locked him in a kennel?
But what choice did she have? She couldn’t stay here all night. And who knew when James might come back? Slowly and silently, she pushed open the door and stared into the shadowed landing. A bathroom to the right and across the hallway? The bedroom with its window that opened to the wraparound porch roof that connected to the back extension? With an eye to the dark hole that was the staircase, she darted across the landing and into the spare room.
Last resort, she reminded herself and, pushing aside all of her fears, started down the stairs. Though the big old house remained still, she held her breath as she stepped onto the lower level. The interior was cast in a wash of thin gray light, the illumination from a single outdoor security lamp reflecting on the snow. She decided to leave through the front door as there had been a lot of footprints and paw prints disrupting the snow. As for the dead bolt?
Too bad.
Let James wonder if someone had been inside.
Served him right.
Mouth dry, starting to sweat despite the temperature, she pushed back the latch and opened the door, then stepped onto the porch.
All quiet.
Dark sky, falling snow, freezing temperatures, but noiseless.