Silent Weapon by Debra Webb Read Free Book Online Page B

bit, leaving me with the need to distract myself or burst with anticipation. I studied the delicate features of her face. Sometimes her beauty caught me off guard. Long, silky blond hair, serene gray eyes, a face that demanded any man breathing take a second look, and a willowy figure to boot. I’d known her forever. My brother was really lucky. Michael was two years older than me. A fireman in the Brentwood area where he and Sarah lived. The two were planning to start a family this year. Sarah would make a terrific mother. Not once had she ever let her beauty go to her head.
    I don’t know Detective Barlow that well, she said. But he doesn’t strike me as the type to let his ego get in the way of the job. I’m really not sure what’s going on.
    Her lips formed the words cautiously, her face uncommitted to a particular emotion. If she’d looked overly concerned I would have been worried. Since she didn’t, I felt relatively relieved. Relaxed but guarded, if that makes sense.
    She draped her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I should get back to the office. I’ll let you know if I hear anything. She smiled. See you tonight.
    Oh, God. How could I have forgotten about that? My folks had insisted that another family dinner was in order tonight. Since Saturdays or Sundays were generally the days we had family get-togethers, I could only assume the worst. This meeting would be about me, same as the one going on upstairs. The one difference was the chief only held the power to make my professional life miserable. My family, well…they held serious power over my entire existence.

    The Walters family home stands proudly in a quiet, genuinely middle-class neighborhood on the fringes of Nashville’s west side. The houses that line the streets of the neighborhood are the signature architecture of the seventies. Think Brady Bunch tri-level. Four or five bedrooms, three bathrooms and always, always a den for the family as well as a formal living room for entertaining.
    Not that the Walters family entertains on a regular basis, but holidays and birthdays are big deals in a clan this size. Especially when you take into account the uncles, aunts and cousins. Good thing they all have the big Brady Bunch kitchen and dining room, too.
    I moved around the table placing the silverware next to each china plate. Blue Willow, the same pattern my mother had used for my entire life. At family get-togethers, each member always had his or her chore. The men were currently slaving—think the loosest definition found in Webster’s of the word—over the barbecue grill while the women scurried to set the table and place the cold side items on the buffet.
    All four of my brothers are married, but none has kids as of yet, much to the dismay of my folks. Since my hearing loss and the subsequent exit of my fiancé, the pressure has been off me to produce offspring.
    I surveyed the table to make sure I hadn’t missed anything and couldn’t help thinking that the scene belonged on the set of Cheaper by the Dozen. All four of my brothers were lugheads when it came to the overprotective sibling genes. Not once in school did anyone dare to pick on me. Not the boys, for fear of being pounded. Not even the girls, for fear that their brothers would be pounded or, in the absence of a male sibling, for worry of being blackballed in the dating arena. In order to remain popular among the star athletes one had to stay on the good side of the whole team.
    Boy, did I have a surprise waiting for me when I went off to college. For the first time in my entire life I’d had to stand up for myself without big-brother backup. I guess that’s when I realized what I’d been missing all that time. I didn’t want to be the sweet little overprotected girl who never got into trouble and who never, ever took a chance. Needless to say, I made up for lost time in a big way. The only thing conservative about my higher-learning experience had been my major,