Sleight Of Hand by Kate Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

tell the police.
They'd help us look for him."
    He swore when he saw a gleam of hope in her
eyes. "I think we'll leave the police out of it for the time
being."
    "Why? That's their job." She frowned at him,
a hint of distrust in her eyes. As quickly as he noted her
wariness, it vanished. Her eyes widened with fright. "You think the
police are in on this?"
    He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to
bundle her into his arms and kiss her until she stopped thinking,
stopped being afraid. "I think if I don't keep moving, I'm going to
have to crawl the last few yards to our cabin. Can't we leave this
until I'm at least sitting down?"
    "Sorry."
    She kept her gaze trained on the ground as if
afraid to take a wrong step. He clamped his mouth shut against the
apology that immediately formed in his mind. Let her think he was a
rude jerk. It was better that way.
    By the time they turned on to the walkway to
their cabin, his teeth chattered from the frigid, damp air. His
leather jacket had protected his back from the wet slush when they
fell, but his jeans were soaked. At the front door, he thankfully
let go of Sarah and leaned against the log cabin. He closed his
eyes as she pulled out her key to unlock the door.
    "Chance."
    His eyes snapped open at the tremor in her
voice.
    "The door, it's not locked."
    He shouldered her to one side and moved in
front of the door, his hand on the doorknob. Automatically, he
switched over to that place--his brain or his gut, he'd never been
able to decide--and blocked out everything but his instincts.
    Nothing came to him. No sense of alarm or
intrusion. No vibration of any person's presence. God help them if
Sarah's presence was short circuiting his ability to pick up on
other people's energy.
    He looked at the path he'd shoveled. Only two
sets of footprints coming and going. The windows were locked. He'd
checked them when he first arrived and with the damp cold, hadn't
opened any.
    Then, like a cold blast of arctic air, the
truth struck him. Battling back the urge to pound his fists on the
wooden door, he let out a resigned sigh and leaned his forehead
against the door.
    "Is someone in there?" Sarah whispered as she
crowded closer to his back.
    "No."
    "How do you know?"
    He felt her grab a fistful of his jacket and
tug. "Believe me, I know."
    "What in heavens name does that mean, that
you have x-ray vision or something?" She tugged again, harder this
time. "What are you doing?"
    "Trying to decide whether to beat my head or
my fists against the door." He twisted the doorknob and swung the
door open. "After you, Madame." He swept his arm as if to usher her
into the room.
    She peeked into the cabin. "Are you sure it's
safe?"
    "Oh yeah." He decided the only way to
convince her was to go first. He limped into the living room and
slumped down on the couch.
    The throbbing in his ankle had spread up into
his leg, and his clammy wet jeans clung to him. He eased his boots
off and sighed as he leaned back, certain he'd never felt more
miserable in his life.
    Sarah stood on the threshold, a perplexed
look on her face. "You haven't even checked the other rooms. How do
you know someone isn't hiding in one of the bedrooms?"
    "Because there's no one here. Unless you left
the window in your bedroom open. Did you?"
    "No."
    "Okay then. Look, I forgot to lock the door.
Now, will you come in and close the damned thing?" A shiver rolled
up his spine as a cold breeze blew in through the open door.
    He thought it might make him feel better if
he threw something, but the only thing close enough to grab was the
empty beer bottle he'd left on the coffee table earlier. The sight
of it made him gnash his teeth together.
    "That's it." He shot to his feet. Pain
crimped his leg, and he swore out loud. "I need a beer. Now."
    Sarah shrugged and closed the door.
"Okay."
    He watched her hang up her coat, then sit on
the chair by the dining table and start to undo the laces on her
boots. Was she trying to make him feel guilty?
    As if