Read Online Sidney Sheldon's Reckless by Sidney Sheldon - Free Book Online Page A

No!” said Nick. “Come on, Blake. It’s funny. I’ll bet it goes viral.”
    â€œIt’s disrespectful is what it is,” said Blake. Ignoring the boy’s protests, he took the phone and deleted the footage of the principal of the middle school glancing around what he clearly believed to be an empty corridor before farting loudly.
    â€œMom!” Nick protested.
    Tracy shrugged, wiping away the tears of mirth. “Sorry, honey. Blake’s right. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
    â€œNot ‘people,’ ” Blake corrected her. “Adults. Teachers, for crying out loud. In my day you’d have had a whip taken to ya for something like that.”
    â€œIn your day they didn’t have phones,” said Nick, still angry. “Your idea of fun was hitting a ball on a string. You know what your problem is? You don’t know how to have fun.”
    â€œNick!” said Tracy. “Apologize.”
    â€œSorry.” The word dripped with sarcasm. “I’m going to my room.”
    Seconds later Nick’s bedroom door slammed.
    Blake looked at Tracy. “Why do you encourage him?”
    â€œOh come on. It was funny.”
    â€œIt was puerile.”
    â€œThat’s because he’s a kid,” said Tracy. “You don’t always have to come on quite so ‘Sam Eagle’ about everything.”
    Blake looked hurt.
    â€œI’m not his friend, Tracy. I’m his parent.” Realizing what he’d just said, Blake blushed. “Well, I mean . . . you know . . . I’m . . .”
    â€œYou’re his parent,” Tracy said seriously, laying a hand over Blake’s. “He’s lucky to have you. We both are.”
    Tracy felt tremendous love for Blake Carter. Pushing seventy now, the old cowboy had been a wonderful father figure to Nicholas and the dearest friend Tracy ever could have wished for. She knew that Blake loved her. He’d even proposed once, years ago. And though she couldn’t love him back in the same way, she absolutely considered him family.
    â€œIs something the matter, Tracy?” Blake asked her. “Besides Nick?”
    That was the other thing about Blake Carter. He saw right through her. Trying to hide things from Blake was like trying to hide them from God—a wasted effort.
    â€œI had a visit today,” Tracy told him. “From the FBI.”
    Blake Carter stiffened, like a deer sensing danger.
    â€œAnd the CIA,” Tracy added. “Together.”
    â€œWhat did they want?”
    Tracy told him. Not everything, but the bare bones of what had been said, as well as Greg Walton’s proposal that she fly to Langley.
    â€œWhat did you say?” Blake asked.
    â€œI said no, of course. I’ve never met this woman, I’m sure of it. And what I know about counterterrorism you could write on the back of a stamp.”
    â€œBut these guys thought you could help?” Blake said gently.
    â€œWell, yes,” Tracy admitted. “They did. But they’re wrong. Don’t tell me you want me to go to Langley?”
    â€œOf course I don’t want you to go,” Blake’s voice grew gruff with emotion. “But maybe it’s not about what I want. Or what you want. These 99 people . . . they’re out of control. Someone needs to stand up to them. They’re against everything this country stands for. Everything America was built on.”
    â€œYou see, there you go again,” Tracy said archly. “Sam Eagle.”
    â€œAll’s I’m saying is, they need to be stopped. Don’t you agree?”
    â€œOf course I do,” snapped Tracy. “And they will be stopped. Just not by me. I’m not a spy, Blake. I have nothing to offer here. Heaven knows how this woman Althea knows about me, or why she mentioned my name. But now she’s got the FBI, the CIA and the White House convinced I have