Read Online Forgotten Witness by Rebecca Forster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rebecca Forster
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Max still at Faye’s?” – Burt
“Yeah. I’m going to pick him up and head on over to the house.”- Archer
“I swear, you’re turning into a husband and you aren’t even married.” – Burt
“There’s worse things to be.” – Archer
“Did you tell her what Linda wanted?” – Burt
“No.” – Archer
“I wouldn’t go to that prison. If Josie does, you better go with her.” – Burt
“Depends on what she finds out in Washington, I guess.” – Archer
“I’m betting she won’t go. That’s where my money is.” – Burt
CHAPTER 7
Ian Francis looked at Josie without surprise or anger. His arms hung at his side, his jacket was open. His glasses caught the light at an odd angle so that it appeared shades had been drawn over the lenses, but it was only a reflection of the drapes He tipped his head, the curtains parted and she saw his eyes were no longer frantic or fearful. There was – and here Josie paused just to make sure she had the right word – affection in his gaze.
“I came to see you,” Josie whispered. “I hope you can help me.”
Ian Francis’ head tilted again. He looked like a puppy hearing the steps of its master on the walk. Josie swallowed hard and her grip tightened on the small plastic bags.
“You said you know where she is,” Josie said. “I’ll do anything. Give you anything. Just tell me.”
His brows beetled. He pushed at his glasses with one finger. They went askew because his hand was trembling. Before she could show him her treasures and remind him that he had given them to her for a reason, he hopped the train of a mind that refused to stay on its tracks.
The quiet was different now. Calmer. Non-threatening. It was the same lack of sound Josie heard lying in the ocean, ears under water, arms out, face turned toward the sun. The rocking of the gentle swells and the warmth deprived the senses. Stay too long like that and you sank, dying because you didn’t have the sense to know you were drowning. At that moment, though, Josie was fully aware she was drowning because she filled the silence to bursting with her anticipation.
She slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat and dropped the plastic bags inside. She didn’t want to lose them if she had to fight him off; she didn’t want to leave them in case she had to run. Josie also didn’t want to kid herself that all would be well because he was so serene. She had seen calm turn deadly in an instant, so she fought the anxiety that was coming in the only way she knew how. She tried again to engage him.
“When you said you know where she is, did you mean Hannah? If you know where Hannah is, please tell me.”
Josie stood still, overly aware of her height, the broadness of her shoulders, the boyish hair that left her neck bare to the cold, the heels on her shoes that made her taller than Ian Francis. In the face of this man’s serenity, Josie felt diminished.
“I don’t understand what you’ve given me.” She withdrew one plastic bag from her pocket. “Show me the way. She’s like a daughter.”
Josie barely whispered the last word, but it was the one Ian Francis heard. His head fell forward, and his shoulders drew up as if a great weight had been lifted. When he raised his face again he was transformed and he was beautiful. From the corner of his eye, a tear fell and tracked his cheek. He let it go, either unaware of it or relieved to finally let it fall.
“You didn’t lie, did you?” Josie whispered.
“No, my girl,” he said back. “My girl.”
Ian Francis stepped toward her. Josie trembled with an emotion more profound and unnameable than anything she had ever experienced. He lifted his arms, but she was not afraid. He took one more step, but she did not recoil. He embraced her, but she didn’t resist because his touch was sweet and familiar. It seemed as if he had held her this way before. Her cheek met his. His skin was warm; the stubble of his beard was surprisingly soft. A car
“Yeah. I’m going to pick him up and head on over to the house.”- Archer
“I swear, you’re turning into a husband and you aren’t even married.” – Burt
“There’s worse things to be.” – Archer
“Did you tell her what Linda wanted?” – Burt
“No.” – Archer
“I wouldn’t go to that prison. If Josie does, you better go with her.” – Burt
“Depends on what she finds out in Washington, I guess.” – Archer
“I’m betting she won’t go. That’s where my money is.” – Burt
CHAPTER 7
Ian Francis looked at Josie without surprise or anger. His arms hung at his side, his jacket was open. His glasses caught the light at an odd angle so that it appeared shades had been drawn over the lenses, but it was only a reflection of the drapes He tipped his head, the curtains parted and she saw his eyes were no longer frantic or fearful. There was – and here Josie paused just to make sure she had the right word – affection in his gaze.
“I came to see you,” Josie whispered. “I hope you can help me.”
Ian Francis’ head tilted again. He looked like a puppy hearing the steps of its master on the walk. Josie swallowed hard and her grip tightened on the small plastic bags.
“You said you know where she is,” Josie said. “I’ll do anything. Give you anything. Just tell me.”
His brows beetled. He pushed at his glasses with one finger. They went askew because his hand was trembling. Before she could show him her treasures and remind him that he had given them to her for a reason, he hopped the train of a mind that refused to stay on its tracks.
The quiet was different now. Calmer. Non-threatening. It was the same lack of sound Josie heard lying in the ocean, ears under water, arms out, face turned toward the sun. The rocking of the gentle swells and the warmth deprived the senses. Stay too long like that and you sank, dying because you didn’t have the sense to know you were drowning. At that moment, though, Josie was fully aware she was drowning because she filled the silence to bursting with her anticipation.
She slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat and dropped the plastic bags inside. She didn’t want to lose them if she had to fight him off; she didn’t want to leave them in case she had to run. Josie also didn’t want to kid herself that all would be well because he was so serene. She had seen calm turn deadly in an instant, so she fought the anxiety that was coming in the only way she knew how. She tried again to engage him.
“When you said you know where she is, did you mean Hannah? If you know where Hannah is, please tell me.”
Josie stood still, overly aware of her height, the broadness of her shoulders, the boyish hair that left her neck bare to the cold, the heels on her shoes that made her taller than Ian Francis. In the face of this man’s serenity, Josie felt diminished.
“I don’t understand what you’ve given me.” She withdrew one plastic bag from her pocket. “Show me the way. She’s like a daughter.”
Josie barely whispered the last word, but it was the one Ian Francis heard. His head fell forward, and his shoulders drew up as if a great weight had been lifted. When he raised his face again he was transformed and he was beautiful. From the corner of his eye, a tear fell and tracked his cheek. He let it go, either unaware of it or relieved to finally let it fall.
“You didn’t lie, did you?” Josie whispered.
“No, my girl,” he said back. “My girl.”
Ian Francis stepped toward her. Josie trembled with an emotion more profound and unnameable than anything she had ever experienced. He lifted his arms, but she was not afraid. He took one more step, but she did not recoil. He embraced her, but she didn’t resist because his touch was sweet and familiar. It seemed as if he had held her this way before. Her cheek met his. His skin was warm; the stubble of his beard was surprisingly soft. A car
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