Deadly Devotion by Sandra Orchard Read Free Book Online Page B

behind her. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his heel.
    Heart pounding, Kate stepped on the gas, certain she’d stumbled onto something significant. Back on the main road, she turned right at the first crossroad and pulled onto the shoulder about four hundred yards down.
    Her stomach felt like an invasion of gypsy moths had laid siege. But she wouldn’t let that stop her. Everything about this place felt suspicious.
    Given how Al felt about their intern, she hadn’t dared ask him for a tour . . . Okay, maybe not asking had more to do with Daisy’s death.
    Kate stared into the trees, her hand frozen on the car door handle. Was she crazy to risk sneaking through the woods to see where those tracks led?
    Parker’s harsh assessment— people are rarely what they seem —replayed through her mind for the umpteenth time. She’d prove him wrong, at least as far as Daisy was concerned.
    Kate opened the door and plunged into the woods before she could talk herself out of looking. It wasn’t as if she was looking for a grow-op, exactly. She estimated the tire tracks would be about three hundred yards east of the side road.
    The tightly spaced trees choked out undergrowth, whichmade walking less treacherous. However, the light filtering through the thick branches cast eerie shadows on the rotted leaves layering the ground.
    She counted paces, willing her heart to stop galloping. Two hundred forty-eight. Two hundred forty-nine.
    Two hundred and fifty paces in, she spotted a tin roof through the trees. She slowed, straining to step soundlessly. The roof belonged to a dilapidated potting shed with cracked windows, rotted wood cladding, and a shiny new padlock on the door.
    Her pulse quickened all over again. She could think of two or three reasons why someone might lock a rotted old shed—none of them good.
    She hid behind the trunk of an enormous maple tree and surveyed the building. The ground around the door was well-trampled, and faint indentations led toward the tire tracks she’d spotted earlier. Indentations that could only have been made by exceptionally large boots. She squinted through the trees for any sign that Bigfoot might still be around. As if to assure her that the coast was clear, a chipmunk hopped from a branch onto one of the window ledges, disappeared through a hole in the glass, and a moment later scurried out with its cheeks stuffed.
    Kate crept to the shed and peered through the dirty window. The room appeared empty. Although from the slick streak across the dusty table, something had recently been removed.
    She edged toward the next window.
    Behind her, a twig snapped.
    She froze. The sound could have been a squirrel, a deer, any number of—
    Leaves crunched.
    Not daring to move, she slid her eyes in the direction of the sound.
    A tall, dark figure rushed toward her.
    She screamed as a hand clamped over her mouth.

4

    All set to assure Kate he’d followed up on her marijuana find, Tom tapped on the door of her research lab. The woman had too much moxie for her own good, and he hoped the personal appearance would convince her to let go of the notion that Leacock had stumbled onto a drug ring. Because if Kate wasn’t convinced, he had no doubt she’d do exactly what her roommate had said and scour the countryside for proof.
    For all his FBI training, he hadn’t known what to make of the speechless look Kate gave him when he’d asked for her promise not to look for grow-ops on her own. And her hesitant nod when he repeated the request hadn’t given him the warm fuzzies that she’d heed.
    If only he could keep her distracted with a more innocuous theory. Problem was, not a single plausible idea came to mind, except for the obvious ones. The nephew killed her for her money, or Kate had.
    He tried the doorknob. Locked.
    “She’s not here.” The supervisor he’d interviewed during the initial investigation, Darryl Kish, stepped out of the office next door, brown lunch bag