Dancing with Detective Danger by Lynn Crandall Read Free Book Online Page A

part of the two years, but he’d thought she was finally out. Or at least as far out of his system as he could ever hope Sterling could be.
    Clearly, nothing had changed with her. Sterling wanted no part of him. Ben closed his eyes and leaned weakly against the shower wall. It still hurt. No wonder running into her messed him up so easily, he thought. A gaping hole still bled inside him where she belonged.
    • • •
    “Your son is going to be fine. He needs some rest and we want to observe him over night, but I expect him to be up and around in no time.” The doctor gave Lacey a reassuring look and winked at Tyler, before stepping into the hallway.
    Lacey’s son’s fall from the swing had left him with a broken arm and a nasty knot on his head, along with a concussion. The doctor set Tyler’s arm in a cast and prescribed bed rest and overnight observation. He’d assured Lacey that Tyler would suffer no permanent damage. Still, standing over him while he quietly watched television, Lacey remained coiled for the worst. Fears scrambled inside her like static in a thunderstorm. Life seemed so fragile right now, and the hospital so fraught with loss. Her loss.
    Catching herself mindlessly tracing an obsessive pattern on the back of her hand, Lacey wrestled down the sorrow and stretched out her limbs.
    But Tyler was fine, or least fine enough for now. She would not lose her precious son.
    “Aren’t you going to eat your pudding, Tyler? It’s chocolate, your favorite,” she tried brightly. “Does your arm hurt much or your head?”
    “Not too bad.” Tyler flipped through the television channels, barely noticing the programming. “Why can’t I go home? I’m bored.”
    “You took a bad fall, sweetie.” Amazed at his youthful resiliency, Lacey smiled at her son. His restlessness was a good sign. “The doctor wants to make sure you’re going to be all right.”
    Lacey wondered if Tyler had any memory of his last visit to the hospital, of the last time he’d seen his father. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee, honey. I’ll be right back, okay?” Lacey patted her son’s shoulder, her hand ice cold.
    “Sure, Mom.”
    Lacey walked past the vending machines and followed the hall to an alcove where she could isolate herself. Alone, she hoped to bite back the memories. She had to. It wouldn’t do to fall apart when Tyler needed her. She had to focus on helping him get better.
    Tears stung her eyes, her heart wincing as she thought of her little son’s fearsome spirit. He tried to be such the little man, but she could tell he was hurting. And here she was, failing under the weight of her memories.
    Lacey sank into a plush chair and rested her head in her trembling hands.
Oh God, I don’t know if I can do this. I miss Nicholas so much. I need him. I want him.
    “I’m here, baby. Talk to me.”
    Lacey’s head jerked to attention. She glanced cautiously around her left shoulder and then her right.
I’m hallucinating
, she thought.
    Shaking her head and clearing her throat, Lacey wondered if she’d been pleading out loud to God and someone had seized the opportunity to play a cruel joke on her. She stood up and stuck her head around the corner, searching for a prankster.
    But there was no one. She stood alone with her sorrow in the alcove at the end of the hall.
    I am definitely losing it,
she thought, and headed back to Tyler’s room.
    • • •
    Nice neighborhood.
Sterling drove along the quiet streets, observing all the clues as they presented themselves.
    The homes looked typical upper middle class, sporting plush green lawns and top-notch landscaping. Not palaces, but definitely homes expressing lives of comfort and affluence.
    Pulling her silver sports car to a stop in front of Sara’s home, Sterling sat a moment and pulled focus. Jerry Rutherford, bank vice president, husband. Born in February of 1968, he was a comfortable forty-something and so was his wife. They’d met at a party a few years