Primitive Secrets by Deborah Turrell Atkinson Read Free Book Online Page B

ignore the buzz that was beginning in her ears.
    She called the police and reported the missing file, then came back into the living room and dropped into a chair. “They’re going to call me back.” She rubbed her temples. “Wanna know how bad my day has been? I walked into Rick’s apartment this evening and he had another woman there.”
    â€œNo!” Leila’s eyes grew round. Both she and Robbie gaped at Storm, then Leila turned up the TV, grabbed Storm’s arm, and dragged her into the kitchen.
    â€œThat sonofabitch,” Leila hissed. “When did this happen?”
    â€œRight before I got home.”
    â€œI guess he didn’t know you were coming. Rick, that is.”
    â€œNo, but he was.” Storm tried to laugh, but her voice wavered. “Bad joke. My night for surprising people, huh?” She turned away, opened the refrigerator and rummaged inside, clinking bottles together. Leila stared at her.
    Storm mumbled inside of the refrigerator. “Want a glass of wine? I could use some. Matter of fact, I could use some food. You won’t believe what I did—”
    The phone interrupted her. Storm reached for the receiver at the same time that someone knocked on the door. Leila went to the door and got there with Robbie.
    â€œHi. I met you at the hospital last night.” Hamlin offered his hand to Leila, then Robbie. “Is Storm all right? I was jogging and saw police cars outside.”
    â€œShe’s okay. Have a seat, I’ll let her tell you about it. She’s on the phone.” Leila led him to the living room.
    Two minutes later, Storm walked in. “Hi, Hamlin. Want a drink?” Storm set the bottle down. Three stemmed glasses rattled in her hands. Hamlin took them from her, sat down on the sofa next to Leila as if he’d been there a dozen times, and pulled the cork.
    Storm dropped into a chair and looked at Hamlin and Leila. The buzzing in her ears was louder and her head was starting to ache since talking to the cop, who had rattled papers over the phone, grunted a few syllables, and said goodbye.
    Storm’s eyes traveled back to Hamlin. He was in running shorts and was answering a question Leila had apparently asked him. Leila’s face was tight and pale. Her gaze went back and forth between Storm and Hamlin like a spectator at a tennis match, oblivious to the fact that Robbie was glued to The Simpsons, which she didn’t allow him to watch.
    Storm wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. This could not be her life; she was boring. She was the type who didn’t even know when her boyfriend was cheating on her. Funny that Hamlin had shown up when he did. Those legs were something. They could go a long way to cheer a woman up.
    Leila’s hand, offering a glass of wine, distracted Storm from the legs. Storm reached out and smiled in what she hoped was a pleasant expression of coping. If she got the giggles now, Leila would have her back at the hospital, but in the psychiatric ward. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes above Hamlin’s shoulders. “Did Leila tell you that some papers were stolen?” She thought she sounded as if she were speaking down a long pipe, but Leila and Hamlin didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œYes.” Hamlin poured a glass for himself.
    Storm repeated that the only thing she could find missing was sixty dollars and the file. “The cops think it’s a bunch of kids. They think I frightened them away before they were finished.”
    â€œMaybe,” Hamlin said.
    â€œWhy would kids want a bunch of papers?” Leila asked.
    Hamlin shrugged. “The police are probably asking themselves the same question. Problem is, unless there’s something to tie this burglary to others, or unless the investigator has some solid clues as to who broke in, he can’t justify an allotment of manpower to look into what looks like a random B & E. They’ve got