Read Online I Have a Secret (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Three) by Cheryl Bradshaw - Free Book Online Page A

you know what it is?”
    “Based on the triangular shape, it looks like a lancet.”
    “A what?” I said.
    “Scalpel.”
    “Like the kind you use to perform autopsies, right?”
    “Similar. X-ACTO knives are sold everywhere. Except—”
    “What?”
    “The one in the picture you sent isn’t the kind I see every day,” she said. “It’s unique.”
    “How so?”
    “It’s an obsidian scalpel with what appears to be a twelve millimeter blade from what I can tell by looking at the photo you sent me. Most surgeons use plain, ordinary, disposable scalpels, but this one would have probably been used several times.”
    “What’s so special about it?”
    “It’s made from a type of volcanic glass. The cuts made with an obsidian are five hundred times sharper than your average steel scalpel.”
    “How is that beneficial in surgery?” I said.
    “Incisions made with this type of blade heal faster. A surgeon might use it at the request of the patient. In most cases, it would be used whenever any fine cutting action is required.” 
    “So I’m looking for someone in the medical profession then?”
    “Anyone with medical training who’d have access to that sort of thing. People don’t just walk around with these in their pockets.”
    Maddie took a deep breath. “Sloane, are you sure you’re all right? Because I can take some time off. I know how hard it must be for you to be back in your hometown again. Say the word and I’m there.”
    “I’ll be fine.”
    “You’re not yourself, I can hear it in your voice. Look, I understand how it must feel to go back there after all this time, but stop running. Forget about the Sloane from the past and think about who you are now—tough, resilient, a fighter.”
    Out of the corner of my eye I spied a familiar flash of grey. “Damnit, I can’t even get five minutes to myself.”
    “What’s going on?” Maddie said.
    “It’s Jesse, he’s coming.”

 
    I slipped into the donut shop, slid across the red vinyl seat until I reached the corner of the booth and placed a call to Trista.  Eight minutes later her burgundy minivan rolled into the parking lot.  The windows were tinted the lightest shade of grey I’d ever seen on a vehicle, and on the back was a series of stickers of a stick family in white all lined up next to each other.  I’d seen that type of thing on so many minivans over the years I’d begun to wonder if it was a free add-on with purchase.  One look at Stick Doug gave me a renewed determination to find his killer.
    I sent Jesse a quick text so he wouldn’t put an APB out on me and promised we’d get together later that night for dinner like we’d planned the day before. I hoped to get some information out of him and not have to deal with him again. The more time we spent together, the more uncomfortable I felt. He was aggressive, just like he was when we were younger, but that wasn’t all.  He exerted a sort of confidence and determination I didn’t remember him having before. And I didn’t like it.
    When I hopped into the van, Trista swept her sunglasses over her red, puffy eyes and looked at me. “Where to?”
    Good question.
    She pointed at the bakery. “Donuts sound good.” 
    “No!” 
    It was only after I yelled that I realized the harsh way the word spewed out of my mouth.  I placed my hand on her arm.  “I’m sorry, I’m a little on edge.  I’d like to get out of here if you don’t mind.  Anywhere else is fine, just get me out of the center of town.”
    Trista put the van in reverse and wheeled out of the parking lot.  Several minutes later we stood in front of a black and white animal that she referred to as a ‘paint.’  The horse trotted forward in his stall and lowered his muzzle.  Trista stroked him.  
    “This is Duke,” she said.   “Doug bought him a few years back.”
    “John Wayne fan?”
    She nodded.  “Doug owned every movie the man ever made.”
    “I’ve always wondered how John Wayne got