Read Online Start Me Up by Victoria Dahl - Free Book Online
Authors: Victoria Dahl
Tags: Contemporary Romance, small town
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trying to puzzle out this mystery. What had changed in his life? What had shifted?
She’d gone to college, yes. But how could that have inspired a crime? A mysterious drifter hadn’t moved into her room. What else? There hadn’t been any personnel changes, according to the records. Sometimes her dad had paid the occasional worker off the books, though. She’d have to ask Joe about that.
But there was one other thing that had changed while she was gone. A big change for her father.
He’d bought that land.
He’d purchased it just a month before his attack. Seemingly out of the blue. He hadn’t mentioned it to her until after the purchase, and Lori had been too wrapped up in college life to ask any questions.
Aside from this house on a lot chock-full of ecological hazards, that riverfront land was the only thing of value her father had owned.
Yet another developer had called about it on Monday. So at least two developers were interested in that twenty-acre plot. Why?
Lori covered her face in frustration.
If her father really had been assaulted, and if it had been premeditated, the land was the only motive she could think of. And that was the extent of her revelation. No who or how or why. She was going to have to spend the day going through his records, and those would probably tell her nothing at all.
“Crap,” she muttered, as she pushed herself off the bed. The red numbers of her clock glared 5:30 a.m. at her, as if she’d done something wrong. Dawn would be breaking by now, and if she couldn’t sleep, she needed to walk, wandering bears be damned.
She pulled on the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d left next to the bed and padded to the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her hair. Her curls were the only thing pretty and feminine about her, as far as she was concerned. Her nose was a bit too snub, her eyes and mouth nothing special. But since she’d learned to tame her hair into big loose curls with some very expensive product, she made sure never to leave the house without fixing it. If she let it get frizzy and dry, she’d look as washed-up as she felt.
Once she felt bouncy and minty-fresh, Lori tugged on her running shoes and headed for the door. The purple light of the rising sun only hinted at warmth, but she didn’t mind. It fit her strange and icy mood.
Birdsong swelled in the silence of the morning. But once again when her shoes hit the gravel of the parking lot, she couldn’t hear anything but that hated sound, so Lori pivoted and hurried directly for Main Street. Her destination was the river, and she could actually reach it through the junkyard, but there was no path along that stretch. Plus she really didn’t care to pick her way through ancient tires and rusted struts.
Several large pickup trucks passed her as she walked, kicking up diesel fumes as drivers raised a solemn hand in greeting. The old-timers didn’t really wave around here. Too much emotion. The cowboys in the movie Brokeback Mountain had reminded her of most of the men of Tumble Creek, minus the secret gay sex, she supposed. Though if it were secret, what the hell would she know about it? Regardless, the men of Tumble Creek and the surrounding ranches were stoic and hardworking and not inclined to superfluous laughter. Or words.
They certainly weren’t artistic and funny, not like Quinn.
The thought of Quinn made her mouth pull up into a smile as she passed The Bar. Quinn hadn’t called on Monday, despite his threat. If he were any other man, she’d assume he’d gone home, thought over the offer to be her lover and decided a quick disappearing act was in order. But it was Quinn, and she had no doubt he’d been locked in his office, furiously sketching out architectural plans for twelve hours straight and giving not one thought to his scandalous offer.
He would call at some point, when he returned to the real world, and he’d apologize profusely for his forgetfulness, but Lori was thankful for the brief reprieve.
She’d gone to college, yes. But how could that have inspired a crime? A mysterious drifter hadn’t moved into her room. What else? There hadn’t been any personnel changes, according to the records. Sometimes her dad had paid the occasional worker off the books, though. She’d have to ask Joe about that.
But there was one other thing that had changed while she was gone. A big change for her father.
He’d bought that land.
He’d purchased it just a month before his attack. Seemingly out of the blue. He hadn’t mentioned it to her until after the purchase, and Lori had been too wrapped up in college life to ask any questions.
Aside from this house on a lot chock-full of ecological hazards, that riverfront land was the only thing of value her father had owned.
Yet another developer had called about it on Monday. So at least two developers were interested in that twenty-acre plot. Why?
Lori covered her face in frustration.
If her father really had been assaulted, and if it had been premeditated, the land was the only motive she could think of. And that was the extent of her revelation. No who or how or why. She was going to have to spend the day going through his records, and those would probably tell her nothing at all.
“Crap,” she muttered, as she pushed herself off the bed. The red numbers of her clock glared 5:30 a.m. at her, as if she’d done something wrong. Dawn would be breaking by now, and if she couldn’t sleep, she needed to walk, wandering bears be damned.
She pulled on the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d left next to the bed and padded to the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her hair. Her curls were the only thing pretty and feminine about her, as far as she was concerned. Her nose was a bit too snub, her eyes and mouth nothing special. But since she’d learned to tame her hair into big loose curls with some very expensive product, she made sure never to leave the house without fixing it. If she let it get frizzy and dry, she’d look as washed-up as she felt.
Once she felt bouncy and minty-fresh, Lori tugged on her running shoes and headed for the door. The purple light of the rising sun only hinted at warmth, but she didn’t mind. It fit her strange and icy mood.
Birdsong swelled in the silence of the morning. But once again when her shoes hit the gravel of the parking lot, she couldn’t hear anything but that hated sound, so Lori pivoted and hurried directly for Main Street. Her destination was the river, and she could actually reach it through the junkyard, but there was no path along that stretch. Plus she really didn’t care to pick her way through ancient tires and rusted struts.
Several large pickup trucks passed her as she walked, kicking up diesel fumes as drivers raised a solemn hand in greeting. The old-timers didn’t really wave around here. Too much emotion. The cowboys in the movie Brokeback Mountain had reminded her of most of the men of Tumble Creek, minus the secret gay sex, she supposed. Though if it were secret, what the hell would she know about it? Regardless, the men of Tumble Creek and the surrounding ranches were stoic and hardworking and not inclined to superfluous laughter. Or words.
They certainly weren’t artistic and funny, not like Quinn.
The thought of Quinn made her mouth pull up into a smile as she passed The Bar. Quinn hadn’t called on Monday, despite his threat. If he were any other man, she’d assume he’d gone home, thought over the offer to be her lover and decided a quick disappearing act was in order. But it was Quinn, and she had no doubt he’d been locked in his office, furiously sketching out architectural plans for twelve hours straight and giving not one thought to his scandalous offer.
He would call at some point, when he returned to the real world, and he’d apologize profusely for his forgetfulness, but Lori was thankful for the brief reprieve.
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