Read Online Before Sunrise by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page A

She sighed. “But I think I might be able to shoot to wound somebody.”
    â€œThat would probably cost you your life. We’re talking split seconds here, not deliberating time.”
    She studied him curiously. He’d looked very young when he was coming by her office to check on things, but in the morning light, she realized that he was older than she’d first thought.
    He gave her a grin. “You’re thinking I’ve aged. I have. Cortez put ten years on me. See these gray hairs?” He indicated his temples. “They’re from last night.”
    â€œHe’s a little abrasive,” she agreed.
    â€œA little abrasive,” he muttered. “Right. And the Smoky Mountains are little hills.” He traced the rim of his coffee mug. It was faded, like most of her dinnerware, but serviceable. “Obviously you’ve met him before.”
    She nodded. “He’s a sort-of friend,” she said evasively.
    â€œHe knew you were here before he ever came to investigate the murder,” he said abruptly.
    Her eyes widened with surprise. “How?”
    â€œHe didn’t say. But he’s worried about you. He can’t seem to hide it.”
    She didn’t know how to take that. She stared at her coffee cup.
    â€œMost people who come to small towns like this—people who aren’t born here—are trying to get away from something that hurts them,” he said slowly. “Marie and I figured that’s why you’re here.”
    She lifted the cup to her mouth and took a sip, ignoring the sting of heat.
    â€œAnd now I understand the reason,” he added with pursed lips. “It’s about six foot one and has the cuddly personality of a starving black bear.”
    She laughed softly.
    â€œI could think up lots more adjectives, but they wouldn’t suit the company,” he mused. He shook his head. “Damn, that man goes for the jugular. I’ll bet he’s good at his job.”
    â€œHe was a federal prosecutor when I knew him,” she revealed. “And he was good at it.”
    â€œHe went voluntarily from a desk job to beating the bushes for lawbreakers?” he asked, surprised. “What would make a man do that?”
    â€œBeats me. Maybe his wife didn’t like living in D.C.”
    He was still for a few seconds. “He’s married?”
    She nodded.
    â€œPoor woman!” he exclaimed with heartfelt compassion.
    She laughed in spite of the pain.
    â€œThat explains the kid, I guess,” he mused.
    â€œWhat kid?” she asked, feeling her heart break all over again.
    â€œHe’s got a little boy with him. They’re staying in a motel in town. I noticed a woman going in and out—the baby-sitter, I suppose. He didn’t treat her like the kid’s mother.”
    â€œA boy or a girl?” She had to know.
    â€œA boy. About two years old,” he replied. “Cute little boy. Laughs a lot. Loves his dad.”
    Phoebe couldn’t picture Cortez with a child. But it explained why he might have married in such a rush. No wonder he hadn’t been interested in going to bed with her, when he already had a woman in his life. He could have told her…
    â€œI brought a target with me,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I thought we could draw Cortez’s face on it.”
    She laughed.
    â€œThat’s better,” he said, smiling at her. “You don’t laugh much.”
    â€œI’d given it up until you came along,” she replied.
    â€œTime you started back. Come on. The coffee was good, by the way. I’m particular about coffee.”
    â€œMe, too,” she agreed. “I live on it.”
    He led her to his truck. He reached in and pulled out a wheel gun, a .38 caliber revolver. “This is easier to use than an automatic,” he told her. “It’s forgiving. The only downside is that you only get six shots. So you have to learn not