Deceived (Private Justice Book #3): A Novel by Irene Hannon Read Free Book Online

partner to rein in the staff and keep things on track. Cal was even more organized than he’d been in their college-buddy days. “My visitor yesterday isn’t a client yet. I wanted to get your take before I pursue this. Her story is unusual, to say the least.”
    “Couldn’t be any more unusual than Moira’s vanishing person tale last year—and look what happened in that case. Not only did it turn out to be true, but you two got married.” Dev nudged Cal with his elbow.
    Connor folded his hands on the file. “It’s at least as unusual as that.”
    “Now I’m intrigued too.” Cal leaned back and crossed an ankle over a knee as he sipped his coffee.
    “Here you go.” Nikki sailed back in and set his mug on the desk—along with a plate of coffee cake and some paper napkins.
    Dev’s eyes lit up and he leaned closer. “Is that my all-time favorite caramel pecan stollen from McArthur’s?”
    Nikki pressed a finger against a stray crumb that had fallen on the desk and shrugged. “I stopped at Great Harvest for a whole-wheat bagel on my way in, and since I was passing by I decided to indulge all of you with this coronary-waiting-to-happen.” She gave the three of them a dark look. “It’s not like my eat-healthy campaign has had much impact on this group, anyway.”
    “You are my favorite person in the whole world. And it’s not even my birthday.” Dev helped himself to the largest slice.
    She snorted. “Don’t get used to it.”
    As she flounced out, Dev grinned after her and took a big bite. “So where were we?”
    “Trying to focus on business.” Cal raised an eyebrow at him as he picked up a smaller piece, then turned his attention to Connor.
    Taking the cue, Connor jumped back in. “I’m going to give it to you the way Kate Marshall gave it to me. After I get your reactions, I’ll fill you in on what I learned after she faxed me back the completed client questionnaire and Nikki and I did some additional research.” He tapped the file in front of him and launched into her story.
    By the time he finished, Cal was frowning and Dev was staring at him, his stollen lying forgotten on the napkin in his lap.
    “That’s a peculiar one, all right.” Cal sipped his coffee, his comment measured, thoughtful, and nonjudgmental. Classic Cal.
    “Is she a nut, or what?” Typical Dev.
    “She’s not a nut.” His reply came out terse. Too terse, based on Dev’s speculative expression. Buying himself a moment toregain control, he opened the file—even though he’d already committed the key facts to memory. “Kate Stewart was born and raised in Nashville. She attended college on an academic scholarship and went on to get a master’s degree in psychology, emphasis in counseling. Following graduation, she worked as a high school counselor in Chicago until she married Dr. John Marshall and they moved to Hilton, New York. Her husband had a private pediatric practice specializing in neural disorders and conducted internationally recognized research at the University of Rochester.”
    “No slouches in that family.” Dev picked up his stollen again.
    “True. Kate got a counseling position at a women’s shelter in Rochester, and she continued to work part-time once her son was born. She took a year off after the accident, then accepted a job here at New Start.”
    Cal tipped his head. “Isn’t that some kind of job service organization for women?”
    “How’d you know that?” Dev squinted at him.
    “Moira mentioned it in that investigative series she did a while back about battered wives. I think it was one of the resources available to them.”
    “That’s right.” Connor consulted a sheet of paper in the file. “It’s a vocational guidance center for women who are entering the workforce after an extended absence and who need help polishing their interviewing skills, making contacts, and gaining confidence. According to the background Nikki dug up on it, a lot of the clients are newly divorced or