Read Online After Dark by Beverly Barton - Free Book Online Page A

it apart to reveal a newspaper clipping and a small photograph.
He held the items out to Lane. Their gazes met and locked. A hard knot of
apprehension formed in the pit of her stomach. With trembling fingers,
she reached out and accepted his offering.
        The photograph was of Will. Last
year's school picture. The knot in her stomach tightened. He looked
just like Johnny Mack, feature for feature, right down to the devastating
smile. How could Johnny Mack have seen this picture and not realized
that the boy was his?
        Hurriedly Lane glanced at the newspaper
clipping and recognized it as being the front-page story about Kent's
murder that had run in the local paper. The Herald, which she co-owned
with Miss Edith. Lane turned her attention to the last item in her hand. A
sheet of lined notebook paper on which two succinct sentences had been
written. Come home. Your son needs you.
        Bile rose into her throat. Her
knees weakened. She closed her eyes, momentarily shutting out the
truth. Johnny Mack knew that Will was his son!
        "We can't talk here," she
told him, then neatly folded the items and handed them back to him. "We
need to talk privately, where there's no chance of our being overheard."
        Johnny Mack glanced past her toward
the hallway leading to the kitchen. "All right. Where and when? The
sooner the better."
        "Yes, I agree. The sooner the
better." Lane's mind splintered into fragments, each flying off in a
different direction. Without even thinking she blurted out, "Tomorrow.
I'll meet you, wherever you say."
        "I'm staying at the Four
Way," he told her. "What time?"
        Only people who couldn't afford
better stayed at the Four Way. It was one step above a rat hole. Clean,
but shabby. Lane supposed that Johnny Mack's finances hadn't improved
much over the years.
        "Ten o'clock in the morning,"
she said.
        He nodded agreement, but his gaze
remained riveted to her face. She sensed that he wanted to say more,
that he wanted to touch her. To shake her hand. To squeeze her shoulder.
Something. Any-tiling. To make a personal contact. She couldn't let
that happen. She didn't dare.
        Lane took an uncertain step backward,
away from him. Johnny Mack had been the most dangerous young man she had
ever known, and her instincts told her that he was far more dangerous
now. There was something about him, an air of confidence that had been
lacking fifteen years ago. What had given him the aura of self-assurance
that had replaced the mask of cocky bravado he had worn as a youth?
        "Ten o'clock tomorrow at the
Four Way. Room seventeen," he said. "And don't be afraid of
me, Lane. You're the last person on earth I'd ever hurt."
        Before she could respond, he turned
away. She caught up with him just after he opened the front door and stepped
out onto the porch. She hung back, hesitant to move too close. Lingering
in the doorway, she called his name.
        "Johnny Mack?"
        His body stiffened. But when he
glanced back over his shoulder, his seductive smile was in place.' 'Yeah?"
        "I didn't send the note."
She swallowed hard. "I had no idea where-" She stopped abruptly
when she heard footsteps behind her. She eased back inside and slammed
the door in Johnny Mack's face.
        She knew before she turned around
that Will had come out of the kitchen. He stood in front of her, his eyes
filled with questions.
        "Is he gone?"
        "Yes, he's gone," she said.
        "He's Johnny Mack Cahill,
isn't he?"
        "Yes." Heaven help us
all, yes, he's Johnny Mack Cahill. Your father. And my destroyer.
        "I'm glad you made him leave.
I don't want to ever see him again!"
        Will rushed past her, his long legs
taking him quickly up the spiral staircase to the second level of the
house. Lane hurried after him, but halted halfway up the stairs.
        "Will!"
        The sound of his door slamming reverberated
in her ears.