Secrets in a Small Town by Kimberly Van Meter Read Free Book Online Page A

her third trimester… He didn’t know much about babies but he had a bad feeling that it spelled tragedy.
    Damn it, Gretchen, I told you he was bad news.

    I N A LIGHT DOZE AFTER SLUGGING down a half-pint of creamy mint-chocolate-chip ice cream, Piper nearly jumped at the shrill beep of her portable scanner as EMS crews rolled out on a call. She blinked and rubbed the sleep from her eyes to focus on the time. Geesh, nearly eleven o’clock at night. She listened to the call, contemplating just following up in the morning and dragging herself to bed, until she heard “possible kidnapping, scene unsecure” and suddenly all remnants of sleep evaporated. She hopped from the sofa and ran to her bedroom to tug on her jeans and sweatshirt. Within minutes, she was on her cell phone to dispatch getting the location of the incident and then she was in her car, barreling toward what she hoped was something big.
    She pulled up to a residence flanked by deep forest growth in a neighborhood sparsely populated by older homes typically used as rentals. She recognized the address for a few disturbance calls she’d read in the police log, but nothing major. She didn’t normally chase after ambulances on a domestic-violence arrest unless it sounded particularly violent.
    She exited her car and was two steps toward the incident commander when a familiar voice turned her around.
    “Sniffing after blood?”
    She stared at Owen, momentarily thrown off track by his presence at the scene. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
    “None of your business.”
    Her mouth tightened but she didn’t have time to play games or trade witty banter. “Fine. Suit yourself. If you’re a witness to whatever went down here, I’ll just find out myself when I read the report.”
    In the pale moonlight, the planes of his face seemed to harden and he looked ready to hurl a litany of curse words her way but as she tried to leave, he stopped her again.
    “Listen, I need a favor,” he bit out, and she turned slowly, not quite sure she’d heard him correctly. Owen needed a favor from her? How deliciously fortuitous.
    “What kind of favor?” she asked, more curious than anything else. “Nothing illegal I hope.”
    “Don’t print this story,” he said.
    “I don’t even know what the story is yet. Why don’t you tell me?”
    He looked away, plainly wrestling with his desire to tell her to go screw herself and his need to play nice to gain a favor. Finally, he said in a low voice, “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on but my office manager seems to be missing. Her daughter—”
    “The one in Mrs. Hamby’s class?”
    “Yeah,” he nodded. “She called me and said her mama’s boyfriend kicked her around a bit and then they took off.”
    Ouch. Her demeanor softened when she imagined how scared the kid must’ve been to witness that kind of abuse, only to be left by herself in the middle of the night. Tragic. But a helluva story. And he wanted her to walk away? Impossible. “I have a job to do…I can’t just look the other way,” she said with a shrug.
    “It must be nice to live in a world where nothing bad ever happens and you’ve never had to make a difficult choice in your life.”
    Stung, she pulled back. “You don’t know my life, so I don’t see how you have the right to judge.”
    “I know if you had an ounce of compassion gained from walking a mile in someone else’s shoes, you’d honor my request. There’s a scared little girl sitting in my truck, terrified that her mama is hurt or dead. All I’m asking is that you don’t make it worse for her by splashing her tragedy all over the front page of the local rag.”
    “It’s not a rag. We’ve won several CNPA awards for coverage in our category,” she said stiffly, chafing silently at his angry rebuke. So she hadn’t suffered through an abominable childhood; it didn’t mean she couldn’t feel compassion. She chewed her lip, caught between the urge to get all the gritty