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

Because the water had begun to boil, Nick removed the kettle from the flame.

    The sound of her gasp spun him around. Sara stood frozen in the dining room, staring down at the floor.

    “Oh my God,” she said.

    Nick rushed to her and followed her gaze. The hairs at his nape prickled when he spotted the muddy footsteps leading from the deck into the house.

Chapter Six

    “Maybe you ought to sit down and tell me everything. No holding out.”
    Sara slid into the chair opposite Nick and sighed. “I’m not sure where to start.”

    “The beginning is usually a pretty good place.”

    Setting her hands on the table before her, she gathered her thoughts. “Two days ago I received an anonymous phone call telling me my father was not a murderer.”

    “Was the voice male or female?”

    “I don’t know. It sounded…electronically altered.”

    “Those devices can be purchased on the Internet for under a hundred dollars.” His expression remained impassive. “Go on.”

    Quickly, she gave him the details of the call. “He said there was information that would vindicate my father.”

    “What information? Did he give details?”

    “He wasn’t specific.”

    “How do you know the call wasn’t some kind of prank?”

    She considered that a moment, trying not to feel foolish. “Gut, mostly.” She bit her lip. “He called me again this morning.”

    “What did he say?”

    Sara’s heart was pounding when she picked up her cup of coffee and sipped. “He told me I had seen the killer that night.”

    Something dark flickered in his eyes. “Did you?”

    “I honestly don’t know.”

    “But it’s possible?”

    She nodded. “I’ve spent years trying to remember everything that happened that night. I went through years of psychotherapy. I even underwent hypnosis.”

    “To no avail.”

    “Unfortunately.”

    “What else did the caller say?”

    Sara debated whether to tell him everything. The voice had told her not to trust anyone. But there was something about Nick that made her want to confide in him, trust him.

    She set down the cup. “The caller mentioned a manuscript.”

    “You think the notes you found in the attic have something to do with this missing manuscript?”

    “Maybe.”

    His brows snapped together. “What kind of manuscript?”

    “He didn’t say.” Her gaze latched onto his. “Nick, your father was a true-crime writer.”

    “He was a plumber who published two true-crime novels, neither of which made much more than a ripple in the publishing world.”

    Uncle Nicholas, the plumber, had forged an unlikely friendship with her parents, the proverbial Hollywood couple. The memory always made her smile. “He was a nice man.”

    “A good man.”

    “You look like him.”

    One side of his mouth curved. “I get that a lot.”

    She thought of the notes she’d found in the attic. “Nick, I think the notes may have been his.”

    “Why would his notes be here? He did most of his writing in the bungalow.”

    “My parents and your father were friends. Good friends. Maybe he left them here.”

    “Tell me about the notes.”

    “I only had a minute or so to look at them before the lights went out.” Even now, the memory of that moment made her shudder. “It appeared as if someone had written down the names and circumstances regarding the disappearances of several women.”

    “Do you recall any of the names?”

    The question sparked a memory. “Jenna…something. Sherman. No…Sherwood.”

    Nick pulled a small spiral pad from his shirt pocket and jotted the name down. “I can run that name through the Missing and Unidentified Persons Unit database and see if anything pops.”

    Hope coursed through Sara at the thought of information that wasn’t based on hearsay or loosely pieced-together theory. “Was your father working on a book at the time of his death?” she asked.

    “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I was twelve. I was always intrigued by his work, but