Read Online Wrong Number by Rachelle Christensen - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachelle Christensen
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criminals.” Madeline squeezed her hands together. “If they could find me that fast, they must have ample resources.”
Aubree pictured her mother’s home in rural Idaho, twenty miles from the nearest grocery store. It was unbelievable that they’d found herso easily, and Aubree was thankful her mom hadn’t been harmed. It was hard to imagine that so much could happen, that so many lives could be placed in danger, from just one wrong number.
S IX
I T WAS NEARLY SEVEN o’clock when a nurse entered the room, pulling an extra hospital bed. “This is for your mom.”
“Thank you very much,” Aubree said.
“We thought you’d appreciate that, Mrs. Nelson,” Edwards said as he entered the room. “Being in a private care facility does have a few perks.”
“Oh, thanks. You’re a dear,” Madeline said.
“It’s not the Hilton, but you’ll be safe here until some of this blows over.” He fumbled with a manila envelope in his hand as if considering what to say. “The funeral is scheduled for tomorrow at eleven o’clock, but you’ll both have to be briefed before then.”
“Why?” Aubree asked.
Edwards motioned to Madeline. “Because she knows more than we’re letting anyone else know. We need this to look like a robbery gone bad. We’re all working non-stop on leads, but we can’t let the press get hold of this until we have more information.”
“When are you going to tell me what you do know?” Aubree folded her arms.
Edwards cleared his throat and gave her a crooked smile. “That’s what I was coming to do.” He motioned to the door. “Mrs. Nelson, if you’ll come out here, we have another agent waiting to brief you on the details of the funeral. We have to be careful of what’s said to protect everyone. We don’t want you to mention you were contacted at home by the perpetrator.”
Aubree shivered involuntarily, thinking of the perpetrator who was now her enemy. For that was what he, or they, was—the worst kind of enemy anyone could dream up.
“It’ll be all right. I’m sure they’re just being overly cautious.” Madeline bent down to hug her daughter.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Aubree said. “I’m so sorry all of this happened.”
“It’s not your fault. Now don’t worry yourself anymore. I’m glad to be with you.” Madeline carried the baby blanket she had been crocheting with her as she exited the room.
Edwards sat in the folding chair Madeline had occupied. “I wanted to tell you that the FBI has taken a major interest in this case. You’ll be seeing a lot more agents and the local police will still help, but Officer Haskins and Detective Rawlings probably won’t be around much.”
“Oh.” Aubree felt disappointed she wouldn’t be seeing Officer Haskins’ kind face anymore. Agent Edwards rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and Aubree stared at the tattoo winding around his arm. The flame was dark orange against his tanned forearms. The hair on his arms and head was sun bleached. She glanced at his green eyes, absent of smile lines. He was all business, and Aubree wished she could escape from the details of her case.
A shadow flickered back and forth across the room, and she glanced at the window. The shade was pulled halfway, and she could see tree branches swaying in the wind, interrupting the dull light of her room.
Agent Edwards rubbed his thumb against the edge of his notebook; the shuffling sound seemed to keep time with Aubree’s nervous heart rate. She glanced at the pile of green file folders in his lap and then back at him.
He opened his mouth, closed it again, and cleared his throat. “Everything I tell you has to be kept in strict confidence. You will not share any information with your mother, and you should know your room is under surveillance.”
“As in video?”
“And microphone,” Edwards said. “It’s not because we don’t trust you—that’s how the room is set up in this facility.”
Aubree tried not to feel
Aubree pictured her mother’s home in rural Idaho, twenty miles from the nearest grocery store. It was unbelievable that they’d found herso easily, and Aubree was thankful her mom hadn’t been harmed. It was hard to imagine that so much could happen, that so many lives could be placed in danger, from just one wrong number.
S IX
I T WAS NEARLY SEVEN o’clock when a nurse entered the room, pulling an extra hospital bed. “This is for your mom.”
“Thank you very much,” Aubree said.
“We thought you’d appreciate that, Mrs. Nelson,” Edwards said as he entered the room. “Being in a private care facility does have a few perks.”
“Oh, thanks. You’re a dear,” Madeline said.
“It’s not the Hilton, but you’ll be safe here until some of this blows over.” He fumbled with a manila envelope in his hand as if considering what to say. “The funeral is scheduled for tomorrow at eleven o’clock, but you’ll both have to be briefed before then.”
“Why?” Aubree asked.
Edwards motioned to Madeline. “Because she knows more than we’re letting anyone else know. We need this to look like a robbery gone bad. We’re all working non-stop on leads, but we can’t let the press get hold of this until we have more information.”
“When are you going to tell me what you do know?” Aubree folded her arms.
Edwards cleared his throat and gave her a crooked smile. “That’s what I was coming to do.” He motioned to the door. “Mrs. Nelson, if you’ll come out here, we have another agent waiting to brief you on the details of the funeral. We have to be careful of what’s said to protect everyone. We don’t want you to mention you were contacted at home by the perpetrator.”
Aubree shivered involuntarily, thinking of the perpetrator who was now her enemy. For that was what he, or they, was—the worst kind of enemy anyone could dream up.
“It’ll be all right. I’m sure they’re just being overly cautious.” Madeline bent down to hug her daughter.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Aubree said. “I’m so sorry all of this happened.”
“It’s not your fault. Now don’t worry yourself anymore. I’m glad to be with you.” Madeline carried the baby blanket she had been crocheting with her as she exited the room.
Edwards sat in the folding chair Madeline had occupied. “I wanted to tell you that the FBI has taken a major interest in this case. You’ll be seeing a lot more agents and the local police will still help, but Officer Haskins and Detective Rawlings probably won’t be around much.”
“Oh.” Aubree felt disappointed she wouldn’t be seeing Officer Haskins’ kind face anymore. Agent Edwards rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and Aubree stared at the tattoo winding around his arm. The flame was dark orange against his tanned forearms. The hair on his arms and head was sun bleached. She glanced at his green eyes, absent of smile lines. He was all business, and Aubree wished she could escape from the details of her case.
A shadow flickered back and forth across the room, and she glanced at the window. The shade was pulled halfway, and she could see tree branches swaying in the wind, interrupting the dull light of her room.
Agent Edwards rubbed his thumb against the edge of his notebook; the shuffling sound seemed to keep time with Aubree’s nervous heart rate. She glanced at the pile of green file folders in his lap and then back at him.
He opened his mouth, closed it again, and cleared his throat. “Everything I tell you has to be kept in strict confidence. You will not share any information with your mother, and you should know your room is under surveillance.”
“As in video?”
“And microphone,” Edwards said. “It’s not because we don’t trust you—that’s how the room is set up in this facility.”
Aubree tried not to feel
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