Read Online In the Dead of Night by Castillo Linda - Free Book Online

tomb. It took him less than two minutes to ascertain that it was also empty. By the time he’d finished, Sara was back inside.

    “There’s no one here now.”

    “Someone was, Nick. Someone turned out the lights. They…took the notebook. Locked me inside.”

    “What notebook?”

    “The one I found. In the box.”

    He raised his hand as if to touch her, then let it drop. “Okay. Let’s go downstairs. Make sure you’re all right. Check the fuse box. I need to check the grounds, then we’ll call this in and file a report. Okay?”

    She nodded.

    In the kitchen, he put Sara in a chair and went through the back door. He shone the flashlight beam along the juniper and jagged rocks surrounding the deck. Taking the wooden steps that led to the beach, he stopped halfway down and illuminated the low-growing bushes and rock. There were a hundred places a man could hide around the old house, but Nick saw no one.

    Back inside, he found her in the utility room, looking at the fuse box. “There’s no one out there.”

    “I was in the attic for quite some time,” she said. “They probably ran out the back door.”

    “Any idea who it was? Anything familiar about them?”

    She shook her head. “All I know is it was a man. Strong. Tall.”

    “That certainly narrows it down.” Brushing her aside, he put the beam on the fuse box. Sure enough the main fuse was unscrewed. “Loose,” he said.

    “Or someone loosened it.”

    He tightened the fuse. Sudden light shone down. For a moment, they stood there blinking at each other. He found himself looking into pretty brown eyes wide with the remnants of fear. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, but several wisps teased her face. Dirt smudged her white T-shirt. He didn’t want to see more. Sure as hell didn’t want to notice any more detail. But his eyes took on a life of their own and swept down her. He saw the outline of a lacy bra beneath a threadbare T-shirt. A strip of flesh where the T-shirt hem met the waistband of low-rise jeans. Lower, he saw long legs and soft curves encased in denim. Painted toenails peeked out from beneath frayed hems.

    Giving himself a hard mental shake, Nick stepped back. “What were you doing up there, anyway?”

    “That’s what I need to talk to you about.” Pursing her lips, she turned and walked into the kitchen.

    Nick didn’t follow. He stood in the utility room a moment longer, silently reprimanding himself for getting caught up in a moment he had no business getting caught up in. There was no way he was going to let himself get sucked in by her female charms.

    Instead of following her into the kitchen, he’d cleared the garage and called a report in to B.J. By the time he met her inside, he felt more in control. She stood at the counter, setting a kettle on the stove.

    “Tell me everything,” he said.

    She turned to him. The fear in her eyes had vanished, replaced by determination. “I found a notebook in the attic.”

    “What kind of notebook?”

    “There were details about missing women inside. Notes, I think.”

    He considered that a moment. “Your parents?”

    “I don’t think so. I didn’t recognize the handwriting.”

    “What did the notes say, exactly?”

    She relayed snippets of notes and newspaper articles that didn’t make much sense. “Any idea what that means?”

    “No idea,” he said. “It’s almost as if someone was doing research on missing persons. Missing women who’d disappeared under mysterious circumstances.”

    Nick thought the scenario she’d pieced together was a stretch, but he didn’t say as much. “Your parents were actors. Your father was a producer. They dealt with writers. Movie scripts.”

    “This was no script.”

    “What do you think it was?”

    “I don’t know. Research, maybe.” As if suddenly restless, she strode to the dining room. “I wish I had a better answer.”

    “Sara, where are you going with this?”

    She stopped midway to the patio door.