In Search of the Dove by REBECCA YORK Read Free Book Online Page B

napkin in Aubrey’s apartment.

Chapter Four
    T he streetlight winked on overhead, and Michael Rome took another swig from his paper bag-wrapped Ripple bottle. Of course, his “wine” was more than half grape juice, but his new drinking buddies on the corner didn’t have to know that.
    “So what about Harley’s?” he questioned, wiping his mouth on his forearm and gesturing toward the pub near the corner. “I hear there’s some action around there.”
    “Yeah. That’s right, man.” There was a chorus of agreement around the little group.
    To his disappointment, nobody volunteered any more information. The lead that had brought him there had come from a helpful police officer named Lieutenant Devine who suspected the rundown pub was the center of drug traffic.
    So he’d been hanging around the neighborhood asking discreet questions. He was looking in the direction of the bar when a cab pulled up across the street. The passenger who emerged was a petite female with an unruly mop of auburn curls. Even halfway down the block, he recognized the woman he’d talked to two days ago at the university. He’d checked around and found out that her name was Jessica Duval and that she claimed to be the sister of the guy from the chemistry department who’d almost barbecued himself last week. But nobody could confirm that piece of information or come up with her address.
    She’d been invading his thoughts at odd moments ever since that strange interview they’d had out on the university lawn. In another context he might have admitted to himself that he found her damn attractive in an offbeat sort of way. But that was entirely beside the point. She knew something about Dove, and he wanted to find out what it was.
    Automatically he faded into the shadow of a brick wall and raised his Ripple bottle to hide his face. As he watched, she handed the cab driver some money and then crossed the street to the bar. Today, he noted, her steps were a lot more hesitant than at the university. What’s more, she’d asked the cab to wait for her. He’d bet she didn’t venture into this part of town too often. But what was she doing at Harley’s, of all places?
    His first impulse was to follow her down the block and into the bar. But she’d run away from him last time, and he didn’t want to force a confrontation. Maybe he’d just stroll past and have an unobtrusive peek inside.
    After waiting ten minutes, he did just that. She was sitting in a booth alone, her back to the window. Then she got up to ask the bartender a question. When she returned to her seat, she looked dejected. Maybe she really was trying to get some information about her brother—or a boyfriend who was in trouble. But that still didn’t explain how she’d found this place.
    Fifteen minutes later Michael was surprised to see the waiter who had taken Jessica’s order slip out the side door and head across the street to the waiting cab. After he handed the driver a bill, the man started his engine and pulled away. The waiter nodded in satisfaction and then took off down the block at a trot.
    A few minutes later Jessica herself emerged and was apparently puzzled not to see the cab. After looking at something in the palm of her hand, she started hesitantly off in the direction the waiter had taken. Michael guessed that she was heading for trouble. He’d better follow. Maybe she was finally going to lead him to someone connected with Dove.
    * * *
    J ESSICA CURLED her fingers around the paper in her hand. She hadn’t liked this neighborhood when she’d arrived. With the last light of evening fading, she liked it even less. Probably the wise thing would be to give up for now and come back tomorrow.
    Her heels clicked on the empty sidewalk as she turned the corner and hurried up the block toward the avenue where she might be able to get another cab.
    Taking a deep breath of the humid night air, she tried to calm her growing sense of misgiving. The skin at the back of