Read Online The Second Lie by Tara Taylor Quinn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tara Taylor Quinn
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something I didn't often do, but could if I had to. "Maggie's not on any list. No one but my friend knows about this. It wasn't an official thing. I just wanted to make certain Maggie was safe. And so far, she is. I thought you'd be glad to hear that. The most Maggie has done besides her paper route is look for a babysitting job."
"Really?"
"Really."
"You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be. This is a small town. If Maggie were in trouble, I think we'd know. But she's at a vulnerable age. I can't promise that trouble won't come. I'd really like it if you could talk her into coming back to see me...."
I rang off just as the bell attached to the front door sounded again. I hadn't been quick enough. My client had left. I had to chase Marc a block to get him to come back for his appointment.
And was glad I did. The soldier had a bottle of pills in his pocket that he'd been tempted to take. He left them with me.
7
S am was at her desk early again Friday morning. Sharing doughnuts and coffee with Chuck.
"You make the best damned coffee of anyone I've ever known," Chuck said. "I swear, Sam, you should open a shop. They'd be lined up out the door."
She'd brought two thermoses into work with her and, as usual, shared them with Chuck.
He was looking at his computer screen and Sam at hers, trying to find some common connection between recent drug busts. Area. Method. Packaging. Bills used. Age of dealers. Time of day.
Any pattern at all.
Sam chuckled. "Right. If I opened a coffee shop, I'd be crazy with boredom in a day. And bouncing off the ceiling with a caffeine high from drinking too much product."
"Would be kinda like an alcoholic opening a bar, huh?"
"Kinda."
"Well, I'll be damned." Chuck sat back, staring. He started jotting notes on the pad in front of him.
"What?" Sam wheeled her chair close enough to see his screen. He was looking at a profile from a recent arrest. "Sherry Mahon? You know her?"
Sam read the screen. Thirty-five. The dishwater blonde looked ten years older. She was divorced. Had a couple of priors for solicitation. And was currently a guest of the county for possession of enough methamphetamine to keep an average-size client base high for a week.
"Yeah, I know her."
"She from around here?" Sam had never seen her before.
"Trotwood."
"Who is she?"
"Kyle didn't tell you?"
Sam froze, coffee cup halfway to her lips. "Kyle? My Kyle?"
"Yes, Deputy, your Kyle," Chuck said. "Though I still don't know why you won't just admit that you guys are in a rut and get over him and give me a chance."
"You're getting your chance, buster," Sam said, handling the comment as she always did--like Chuck didn't mean it. The man's heart belonged to the wife who'd left him for a man who worked a desk job. Everyone at the station knew that. "Tell me what Kyle has to do with this woman."
Chuck closed the screen. Moved on to another.
"Chuck."
Sitting up straighter, he turned his back to her.
"It has nothing to do with this," he said.
"Tell me, Sewell, or you've had your last cup of my coffee. Ever."
He turned, the compassionate look in his eyes scaring her.
"Tell me," she repeated.
"I never would have said anything if I'd thought for one second that you didn't know."
"Know what, dammit?" He was trying her patience. And after another mostly sleepless night, she didn't have a lot to spare.
"It was a long time ago, Sam."
"How long ago?"
"Fifteen years."
"And?"
"You'd just given Kyle his walking papers."
"Which time?"
Chuck's grin was only half-convincing. "Yeah, well, at the time, Kyle really thought it was over."
Sam thought back. She'd been eighteen. "It was right after I'd told him I was joining the academy," she guessed. She'd given him her ring back. And come begging for it two days later, knowing she couldn't live without him. He'd said the same about her and the next few weeks had been perfect. But looking back, she was able to see that that first break had been the beginning of the end. They'd broken
"Really?"
"Really."
"You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be. This is a small town. If Maggie were in trouble, I think we'd know. But she's at a vulnerable age. I can't promise that trouble won't come. I'd really like it if you could talk her into coming back to see me...."
I rang off just as the bell attached to the front door sounded again. I hadn't been quick enough. My client had left. I had to chase Marc a block to get him to come back for his appointment.
And was glad I did. The soldier had a bottle of pills in his pocket that he'd been tempted to take. He left them with me.
7
S am was at her desk early again Friday morning. Sharing doughnuts and coffee with Chuck.
"You make the best damned coffee of anyone I've ever known," Chuck said. "I swear, Sam, you should open a shop. They'd be lined up out the door."
She'd brought two thermoses into work with her and, as usual, shared them with Chuck.
He was looking at his computer screen and Sam at hers, trying to find some common connection between recent drug busts. Area. Method. Packaging. Bills used. Age of dealers. Time of day.
Any pattern at all.
Sam chuckled. "Right. If I opened a coffee shop, I'd be crazy with boredom in a day. And bouncing off the ceiling with a caffeine high from drinking too much product."
"Would be kinda like an alcoholic opening a bar, huh?"
"Kinda."
"Well, I'll be damned." Chuck sat back, staring. He started jotting notes on the pad in front of him.
"What?" Sam wheeled her chair close enough to see his screen. He was looking at a profile from a recent arrest. "Sherry Mahon? You know her?"
Sam read the screen. Thirty-five. The dishwater blonde looked ten years older. She was divorced. Had a couple of priors for solicitation. And was currently a guest of the county for possession of enough methamphetamine to keep an average-size client base high for a week.
"Yeah, I know her."
"She from around here?" Sam had never seen her before.
"Trotwood."
"Who is she?"
"Kyle didn't tell you?"
Sam froze, coffee cup halfway to her lips. "Kyle? My Kyle?"
"Yes, Deputy, your Kyle," Chuck said. "Though I still don't know why you won't just admit that you guys are in a rut and get over him and give me a chance."
"You're getting your chance, buster," Sam said, handling the comment as she always did--like Chuck didn't mean it. The man's heart belonged to the wife who'd left him for a man who worked a desk job. Everyone at the station knew that. "Tell me what Kyle has to do with this woman."
Chuck closed the screen. Moved on to another.
"Chuck."
Sitting up straighter, he turned his back to her.
"It has nothing to do with this," he said.
"Tell me, Sewell, or you've had your last cup of my coffee. Ever."
He turned, the compassionate look in his eyes scaring her.
"Tell me," she repeated.
"I never would have said anything if I'd thought for one second that you didn't know."
"Know what, dammit?" He was trying her patience. And after another mostly sleepless night, she didn't have a lot to spare.
"It was a long time ago, Sam."
"How long ago?"
"Fifteen years."
"And?"
"You'd just given Kyle his walking papers."
"Which time?"
Chuck's grin was only half-convincing. "Yeah, well, at the time, Kyle really thought it was over."
Sam thought back. She'd been eighteen. "It was right after I'd told him I was joining the academy," she guessed. She'd given him her ring back. And come begging for it two days later, knowing she couldn't live without him. He'd said the same about her and the next few weeks had been perfect. But looking back, she was able to see that that first break had been the beginning of the end. They'd broken
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