Echoes by Kristen Heitzmann Read Free Book Online

protective . She wanted nothing more than to close herself into the carriage house out of sight. But Rese had asked her to listen for the door while she got ready for work and Lance searched the neighborhood one last time.
    She turned at the bookcase and walked past the window. Would the person who made protecting children a profession identify that particular failure in another? Would it show like a blemish or stain? Her mind flooded with images of ribbons and barrettes, lacy socks and little pink shoes. She remembered the wiggly weight in her lap, small spongy palms pressed to her cheeks.
    "Hear me, Sofie."
    "I'm listening, sweetie."
    She startled when the knock came. Her pulse fluttered. She made herself move toward the door and pull it open. She didn't know what she'd expected in the social worker, but not the tall man in rolled shirt sleeves who stood there. His brown hair and strong jaw registered, but it was the warmth in his deep brown eyes that undid her.
    He offered his hand, a firm, encompassing grip. "Matt Hammond. Child Protective Services."
    The woman who opened the door affected him on a visceral level that took him by surprise; the elegant curve of her neck, honey gold hair, and eyes like dark copper pennies with a green aura surrounding the pupils. Her features were defined, her figure exquisite, her expression quick and intelligent, yet somehow veiled. Without realizing, he'd enclosed her hand with both of his. He released her. "I received a call from the police about an infant?"
    She nodded. "Come in. Rese will be out in a minute. Would you like to sit?"
    "Sure. And you're . . ."
    "Sofie. Sofie Michelli."
    The name slid in and locked, fitting her so well he doubted he'd ever forget. The long room, broken into conversational groupings, felt more like a cozy inn than a home. He took a cream-colored chair by the window.
    "Would you like coffee?"
    "No thanks. I'm kicking the habit—this week." He smiled.
    "Is there something else you'd like?"
    "I'm fine, thanks. Is this a bed-and-breakfast? I didn't see a sign."
    "It was going to be, but Rese changed plans."
    He supposed Rese would address the issue he'd been called in for, but conversing with Sofie reminded him of the time he'd asked a girl to the prom and discovered he enjoyed the younger sister more. They'd been laughing too hard to notice the grand entrance his date made, and she hadn't forgiven him all evening.
    "I haven't been in this neighborhood for a while, but wasn't this building burned?"
    Sofie nodded. "Partially. Rese renovated it."
    "He did good work."
    A smile touched her mouth. "Here she is now."
    Aha . He stood and introduced himself to the woman who joined them, short dark hair framing an angular face.
    She said, "I was hoping Lance would be back."
    Just as he wondered if anyone there was going to tell him what he'd come to learn, the back door opened and a man of medium stature and somewhat gaunt appearance approached. Matt extended his hand.
    The man returned a firm grip. "Lance Michelli."
    "Michelli. You're Sofie's . . ."
    "Sofie's my sister." He looked around. "Where are Nonna and the baby?"
    "In my room." Rese crossed her arms.
    Lance took off his jacket and finger-combed his windblown hair. "So, what are we doing?"
    She shrugged. "Mr. Hammond just got here."
    "Matt. Please." He liked things informal. People at ease were more accurately assessed, and he was about solutions, not control.
    "This is an initial interview where I gather as much info as I can about the baby." Since the women seemed to defer to Lance, he directed his attention there. "You told the police the mother has been gone twenty-four hours?"
    "Almost."
    "And before she left, she asked you to watch the baby?"
    "That's . . . what she meant."
    A clever sidestep. "What did she say?"
    "She was speaking Spanish and got pretty emotional, but that was the idea."
    "Spanish is her first language?"
    "Only language, as far as we can tell."
    "Did she indicate how long she'd be