Read Online Hold on to Me by Linda Winfree - Free Book Online Page A

sheriff’s office. And thank you again for seeing us.”
    “Please don’t thank me.” Eloise struggled for composure. “Just find the person who killed my daughter.”
    The same maid appeared to show them out. “Where is the women’s crisis center?” Caitlin asked as they walked to Schaefer’s unmarked unit.
    “It’s in the old high school building,” he said and unlocked the car by remote. He walked directly to the driver’s side and, unlike Tick, he didn’t bother to open the door for her. “Tori Calvert, Tick’s sister, is the director.”
    “I know.” She latched her seat belt. During their last phone conversation, when Tori had called with questions about a paper for her graduate courses in psychology, the younger woman had joked that she’d gotten the job because no one else wanted it. Caitlin smiled, aware that had to be as far from the truth as possible.
    “That’s right. You worked her case. Tick called in favors to get you to profile Reese.” He adjusted the rearview mirror before backing out of the drive. “So let me guess—our next stop is the center?”
    “Exactly.”
    She gazed out at the imposing façade of the Gillabeaux home. The house she’d grown up in possessed the same classic red brick, huge white columns and air of stately decorum. Homes like that, displaying the class and status of old money, pressed on their inhabitants, pushing them into socially appropriate roles. Here was one half of Amy’s double life—the good daughter, the good girl, aching for freedom, seeking something this life didn’t give her.
    Something in her other life, the one where Amy hadn’t had to be a good girl, had gotten her killed. Caitlin was sure of it.
    * * *
    Caitlin’s shoes clicked against the tile in the women’s center lobby. Despite the institutional flooring, a sense of calm and comfort saturated the room thanks to soft pastels on the walls and even softer music coming from a CD player behind the reception desk.
    The blonde working the desk glanced up, smiled at Schaefer and flicked a curious glance at Caitlin. “Hey, Jeff. How are you?”
    He leaned against the waist-high desk and tapped his fingers against the white countertop. “I’m good. Is Tori in?”
    “She’s in her office, working on the budget, but she’ll be glad to see you. You know the way.”
    “Come on.” Schaefer motioned down a long, narrow hall. Caitlin shook her head and followed him. Professional he might be, but he lacked Tick’s ingrained good manners. As much as she’d laughed over Tick’s opening doors for her or rising when she entered a room, she missed the way it made her feel—special and very feminine. Or maybe he just made her feel that way.
    And maybe she should simply focus on her job.
    “Come here often?” Caitlin asked, and Schaefer chuckled.
    “I handle most of our sexual assault cases since we don’t have a female deputy yet,” he explained. “Cookie doesn’t always have the right, er, demeanor for them, and Tick…well, those cases set his teeth on edge, if you know what I mean.”
    “I do.” She remembered Stanton having to drag Tick off rapist Billy Reese during the arrest. He’d been icily calm until Reese had started yelling taunts about Tori, then he had lost control. Caitlin had pulled him from the room, forcing him to look at her while she ordered him to calm down. His tortured expression had done her in—all she’d wanted was to make the rage and agony go away.
    The whole tangled mess between them had probably started that night. It had simply taken three more years to come to fruition.
    Schaefer’s comment about Cookie surprised her, though. Cook had layers and she’d already pegged the sleazy persona as a mask, maybe because she wore her own every day. After dinner, once they’d gotten down to business, the investigator had been quick, articulate and an utmost professional.
    “Plus, Tick and I teach a women’s self-defense course here a couple nights a week,”