Read Online All the Beautiful Brides by Rita Herron - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rita Herron
Ads: Link
child.
Dark-gray clouds hung heavy over the sky, threatening another storm as she parked at the development. Brent had told her about this complex, that the town had built it ten years ago to help residents who couldn’t afford housing. The brick units were sturdy against the stiff winds and close enough to town for the tenants to work in Graveyard Falls or the neighboring clothing factory.
She parked in front of the unit where Kay lived, cut the engine, and hurried through the sludge up to the door. The curtains were drawn, making it seem no one was home, or they wanted to be left alone. But she knocked anyway.
A young woman carrying a baby exited a unit and paused to stare at her. For a moment, Mona sensed the woman was upset, and she wanted to go to her, but suddenly the woman rushed back inside her apartment.
She knocked on Kay’s door again. Footsteps sounded inside, shuffling, then the door opened a crack. A dishwater-blonde woman in a terrycloth robe stood on the other side, her hair disheveled, her eyes glassy with alcohol or drugs.
“I ain’t buying nothing,” the woman snarled.
Mona offered her a friendly smile. “I’m not selling anything, ma’am. Are you Kay Marlin?”
The woman lifted a coffee mug and took a sip, although it smelled like it held whiskey. “Yeah. Who wants to know?”
Mona introduced herself and explained the reason for her visit. “I’m looking for my birth mother. She left me this.” She showed her the baby bootie charm.
Kay’s eyes flashed cold. “Well, you come to the wrong place. I don’t have a daughter.”
“But you gave birth to a little girl, didn’t you?” Mona persisted.
Kay’s pale face twisted into a grimace. “Yeah, but I got rid of that kid. I don’t have any idea what happened to her, and I don’t wanna know.”
Mona sucked in a breath at the woman’s harsh tone. She started to say something, but Kay slammed the door in her face.
Disappointment flared inside her. If Kay was her birth mother, she obviously didn’t want to reconcile with her.
She blinked back tears and ran to her car, a well of emotions balling inside her. She’d been foolish to indulge in this fantasy that her mother might have missed her, that she might be looking for her, too.
Cal took Gwyneth’s computer to the lab to have the IT department analyze it and asked a crime unit to process her apartment.
When he made it to Blues and Brews, he had to wait for the night bartender to arrive, so he listened to a guy sing the blues, and found himself contemplating what he would say to Mona when he saw her.
I’m sorry for the lies Brent told you. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you.
I wish I’d asked you out before Brent had. But then he did, and I owed him, and . . . Brent always got what he wanted .
A seed of resentment wormed its way to the surface. He hadn’t realized until now that Brent was just calculating enough to use Cal’s debt to him to his advantage. A little reminder here and there—subtle, but it had worked.
Brent had risked his life and the wrath of their foster father to keep Cal from being beaten and tossed in the place the man called the “thinking hole.”
The singer finished his set, and a young woman with white-blonde hair and black eyeliner took the stage. She jumped into a dark tune about death and resurrection that made the hairs on the back of Cal’s neck bristle.
Finally the bartender arrived. Cal flashed his badge and explained why he was there, then showed him Gwyneth’s and Rosalyn’s pictures. “Do you remember either of these women being in here two nights ago?”
“Yeah, that Rosalyn chick is in here a lot. Hooks up with this guy named Eddie.”
“How about her friend, Gwyneth?”
“There were a lot of people in here. I’m afraid she doesn’t stick out.”
“Can I view the security tapes from that night?”
The young man looked sheepish. “There’s only one camera that works right now. It’s by the back
Dark-gray clouds hung heavy over the sky, threatening another storm as she parked at the development. Brent had told her about this complex, that the town had built it ten years ago to help residents who couldn’t afford housing. The brick units were sturdy against the stiff winds and close enough to town for the tenants to work in Graveyard Falls or the neighboring clothing factory.
She parked in front of the unit where Kay lived, cut the engine, and hurried through the sludge up to the door. The curtains were drawn, making it seem no one was home, or they wanted to be left alone. But she knocked anyway.
A young woman carrying a baby exited a unit and paused to stare at her. For a moment, Mona sensed the woman was upset, and she wanted to go to her, but suddenly the woman rushed back inside her apartment.
She knocked on Kay’s door again. Footsteps sounded inside, shuffling, then the door opened a crack. A dishwater-blonde woman in a terrycloth robe stood on the other side, her hair disheveled, her eyes glassy with alcohol or drugs.
“I ain’t buying nothing,” the woman snarled.
Mona offered her a friendly smile. “I’m not selling anything, ma’am. Are you Kay Marlin?”
The woman lifted a coffee mug and took a sip, although it smelled like it held whiskey. “Yeah. Who wants to know?”
Mona introduced herself and explained the reason for her visit. “I’m looking for my birth mother. She left me this.” She showed her the baby bootie charm.
Kay’s eyes flashed cold. “Well, you come to the wrong place. I don’t have a daughter.”
“But you gave birth to a little girl, didn’t you?” Mona persisted.
Kay’s pale face twisted into a grimace. “Yeah, but I got rid of that kid. I don’t have any idea what happened to her, and I don’t wanna know.”
Mona sucked in a breath at the woman’s harsh tone. She started to say something, but Kay slammed the door in her face.
Disappointment flared inside her. If Kay was her birth mother, she obviously didn’t want to reconcile with her.
She blinked back tears and ran to her car, a well of emotions balling inside her. She’d been foolish to indulge in this fantasy that her mother might have missed her, that she might be looking for her, too.
Cal took Gwyneth’s computer to the lab to have the IT department analyze it and asked a crime unit to process her apartment.
When he made it to Blues and Brews, he had to wait for the night bartender to arrive, so he listened to a guy sing the blues, and found himself contemplating what he would say to Mona when he saw her.
I’m sorry for the lies Brent told you. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you.
I wish I’d asked you out before Brent had. But then he did, and I owed him, and . . . Brent always got what he wanted .
A seed of resentment wormed its way to the surface. He hadn’t realized until now that Brent was just calculating enough to use Cal’s debt to him to his advantage. A little reminder here and there—subtle, but it had worked.
Brent had risked his life and the wrath of their foster father to keep Cal from being beaten and tossed in the place the man called the “thinking hole.”
The singer finished his set, and a young woman with white-blonde hair and black eyeliner took the stage. She jumped into a dark tune about death and resurrection that made the hairs on the back of Cal’s neck bristle.
Finally the bartender arrived. Cal flashed his badge and explained why he was there, then showed him Gwyneth’s and Rosalyn’s pictures. “Do you remember either of these women being in here two nights ago?”
“Yeah, that Rosalyn chick is in here a lot. Hooks up with this guy named Eddie.”
“How about her friend, Gwyneth?”
“There were a lot of people in here. I’m afraid she doesn’t stick out.”
“Can I view the security tapes from that night?”
The young man looked sheepish. “There’s only one camera that works right now. It’s by the back
Similar Books
