Random Acts by Alison Stone Read Free Book Online

man he was. Closing her eyes, she held the tears at bay. Hands down, this was the most humiliated she had felt in years.
    “Sorry,” he said when she flinched. His voice was soothing, calm. She felt his eyes on her. “Does it hurt?”
    Danielle pressed her lips together and shook her head. Her foot didn’t hurt nearly as much as her pride.
    He patted her knee, much like a big brother would reassure a little sister. Lucky her, she thought drolly. She tilted her head, studying him as he wrapped her foot in gauze. His square jaw was dark with whiskers. Creases at the corner of his eyes, slightly whiter than the rest of his tanned face, suggested he smiled a lot. Over the past decade and a half he had grown from a cute boy into a handsome man. A yearning for something—a missed opportunity perhaps—swept over her. She blinked a few times, shoving aside the fleeting thought. Why waste energy exploring such useless emotions?
    Patrick glanced up, a smile in his eyes. “I think you’ll live.”
    “Good to know.” She pushed a hand through her hair, realizing for the first time she had a major case of bed head. Lifting both hands, she pulled it back, wishing she had a fastener.
    Patrick stood up and walked to the door. He opened it wide, studying its trajectory. “I’m going to call this into the station, but I’m wondering if the wind blew it open.” Something in his tone told her he was grasping at straws. He cut her a sideways glance. “Do you know if you locked the door tonight?”
    Danielle searched her memory. Locking the doors had been second nature in Atlanta. But here in Mayport? “I can’t be sure.”
    “I know this door sticks.”
    “It’s hard to open and you really have to force it shut.”
    “Exactly.” With a gloved hand, he cleaned the remaining shards of glass from the wood frame. “Strange.” He seemed to be thinking out loud. “The door had to hit the counter pretty hard to send glass across the kitchen floor. And only this one pane broke.”
    “The pane closest to the lock.” An unnerving thought took root. Had someone broken into the house tonight?
    He turned to meet her gaze, his green eyes penetrating in their intensity. He pulled his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “Let me call this in. Just to be sure.”
    “Okay.” Her throat felt parched.
    His hand came up in a hold-on-a-minute gesture as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. Something in his eyes suggested he wasn’t completely forthcoming. What was he hiding? Her eyes drifted to the broken window. A chill permeated her bones.
     
    Chief Parker answered on the second ring, his voice gruff, presumably from sleep. “Hey, Chief,” Patrick said, then he mouthed to Danielle, “I’m going to take this outside.”
    Patrick stepped onto the driveway. He crossed one arm over his chest, his thin shirt no match for the chilly night air, a sharp contrast to the warm spell of the past few days. “This might be nothing, but I can’t take the chance.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Danielle hadn’t followed him outside.
    “What’s going on?”
    “I’m at the Carson home.”
    A groan sounded across the telephone line. “And there’s a problem?”
    “Can’t be sure. The back door was open. Might have been the wind.”
    “But you don’t think so?” Chief Parker seemed to trust Patrick’s instincts. And the respect was mutual. Upon returning to Mayport, Patrick immediately had related to his boss, also a single father of a now-grown son.
    “I’m worried it’s related to Jenny’s activities last night.” Patrick paced in a ten-foot area of the driveway, trying to keep warm and gather his thoughts.
    “No way. Billy doesn’t know why she was at the bar last night. She got skittish and ran off before she made a buy. Remember?” Frustration was evident in Chief Parker’s tone. Getting Billy Farr, a suspected drug dealer, off the street was high on the police department’s list of