Christmas Confidential by Marilyn Pappano; Linda Conrad Read Free Book Online Page A

cellmate by a mile. On a good day, LaRinda was about as charming as a snake and trustworthy as a troll, and she hadn’t had many good days.
    He took the other bed, food spread across sheets and drink on the night table. As he broke open a packet of salt to sprinkle on his fries, he asked, “How come you didn’t learn to drive until you were twenty?”
    She’d told him that, hadn’t she? No matter. Surely his friends at the police department—all private investigators had them, didn’t they?—could tell him that she’d been a late bloomer when it came to cars. “No car until then, no point in learning to drive.”
    “What about when you were sixteen? Didn’t your parents have a car?”
    Her father, she’d learned, had had a garage full of them. At fifteen, Miri had sold her mother’s aged car with a forged signature to buy food and medication. The car was worthless to them. It didn’t run half the time, and by then, Mom’s mental condition had deteriorated to the point that she rarely left her bed.
    “We took the bus when it was convenient and walked when it wasn’t.”
    “This ‘walking’ you speak of...it’s an alien concept.” He scooped up some fries. “I got that car for my sixteenth birthday. Keep in mind, it didn’t run, was missing all its glass and had only two tires and no doors, but it was the best gift I ever got. My dad and I worked on it every evening until it was like brand-new. Good times.” Popping the fries into his mouth, he chewed and swallowed before asking, “Did you ever do anything like that with your dad or mom? You know, a mother-daughter project.”
    “Not unless forcing a pill she didn’t want to take into her mouth, then holding her jaws shut until she swallowed counts,” Miri murmured, then went utterly still. Oh, God, had she said that out loud?
    She must have, because Dean was staring at her with—surprise? Shock? Pity? Her shoulders straightened. She didn’t want pity, not from him or anyone else. She’d loved her mother. She’d committed seven years of her life to taking care of her, and she didn’t regret or resent one minute of it.
    Aggression built inside her, her muscles tightening, her gaze narrowing as she waited for him to pursue the subject or, worse, say something totally inane like I’m sorry. But all he did was look at her a moment, then, casually, easily, he changed the subject as if he’d lost interest in the previous one.
    “So what do you think of your first day without prison guards?”
    Tension drained from her neck, her jaw, even her teeth. She breathed once, twice, something that felt like gratitude pumping through her veins. “Considering the company, it’s not that different.”
    “Aw, come on, you gotta admit, I’m better looking than most of the guards, and I’m as strong as at least one or two.”
    An image comparing him to the female guards in her cellblock almost made her smile. “Maybe one or two. But most of them could take you in a fair fight, and there are a few who could probably bench-press you.”
    “Hey, it’s hard to fight a woman. My dad taught me not to hit girls. My mom taught me not to hit anyone unless they hit me first.”
    Her mother had had the same rule: no nonsense about gender, just don’t start a fight, but defend yourself if someone else did.
    “From where I stood at the bus station, it was kind of hard to fight a man, too.”
    Dean feigned a wounded look as he gingerly touched his jaw. “The guy sucker punched me. I didn’t even know he was there. How can you protect yourself against someone you don’t even know is there? And you with the warnings...”
    This time she did smile. It was rusty and unnatural but vaguely familiar. If she tried hard, she could remember a time when smiles came as easily to her as they did to Dean. If she got sentimental enough to make a Christmas wish, maybe it would be for the smiles to come back.
    “All right, all right. Enough with the whining. The next time I’ll