Call After Midnight by Tess Gerritsen Read Free Book Online Page B

some new developments. I think you should hear about them.”
    â€œSarah, who is this man?” broke in Abby.
    Nick turned to the older woman. “Nick O’Hara. I’m with the State Department. If it would be all right, ma’am, I’d like a moment alone with Mrs. Fontaine.”
    â€œMaybe she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
    He looked back at Sarah. “It’s important.”
    Something about the way he looked at her, the stubborn angle of his jaw, made Sarah consider his request. She hadn’t planned to speak to him again. For the past two days, her answering machine had recorded his half dozen calls, all of which she’d ignored. Geoffrey was dead and buried; that was pain enough. Nick O’Hara would only make things worse by asking his unanswerable questions.
    â€œPlease, Mrs. Fontaine.”
    At last she nodded. With a glance at Abby, she said, “I’ll be all right.”
    â€œWell, you can’t stand around chatting out here. It’ll be pouring in a minute!”
    â€œI can drive her home,” said Nick. At Abby’s dubious look, he smiled. “Really, I’m okay. I’ll take care of her.”
    Abby gave Sarah one last hug and kiss. “I’ll call you tonight, sweetheart. Let’s have breakfast in the morning.”Then, with obvious reluctance, she turned and headed toward her car.
    â€œA good friend, I take it,” he said, watching Abby’s retreat.
    â€œWe’ve worked together for years.”
    â€œAt NIH?”
    â€œYes. The same lab.”
    He glanced up at the sky, which was now dark with storm clouds. A chill had fallen over them. “Your friend’s right. It’ll be pouring in a minute. Come on. My car’s this way.”
    Gently he touched her sleeve. She moved ahead mechanically, allowing him to guide her into the front seat of his car. He slid in beside her and pulled his door shut. For a moment they sat in silence. The car was an old Volvo, practical, without frills, a model one chose purely for transportation. It fit him, somehow. A trace of warmth still clung to the interior, and Sarah’s glasses clouded over. Pulling them off, she turned and looked at him and saw that his hair was wet.
    â€œYou must be cold,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”
    The engine roared to life. A blast of air erupted from the heater, gradually warming them as they drove along the winding road from the cemetery. The windshield wiper squeaked back and forth.
    â€œIt started out so beautiful this morning,” she said, watching the rain fall.
    â€œUnpredictable. Just like everything else.”
    He smoothly turned the car onto the highway bound for D.C. He was a calm driver, with steady hands. The kind who probably never took risks. Savoring the heater’s warmth, Sarah settled back in her seat.
    â€œWhy didn’t you return my calls?” he asked.
    â€œIt was rude of me. I’m sorry.”
    â€œYou didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you call me back?”
    â€œI guess I didn’t want to hear any more speculation about Geoffrey. Or about his death.”
    â€œEven if they’re facts?”
    â€œYou weren’t giving me facts, Mr. O’Hara. You were guessing.”
    He stared ahead grimly at the road. “I’m not guessing anymore, Mrs. Fontaine. I’ve got the facts. All I need is a name.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œYour husband. You said that six months ago you met Geoffrey Fontaine at a coffee shop. He must have swept you clean off your feet. Four months later you were married. Correct?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI don’t know how to say this, but Geoffrey Fontaine— the real Geoffrey Fontaine—died forty-two years ago. As an infant.”
    She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I don’t understand…”
    He didn’t look at her; he kept his eyes on the road as