The Almost Girl – ebook edition Read Free Book Online Page A

jacket. Her face is apologetic. “Your keys aren’t in here; they must be on Caden’s desk somewhere. Can you have a look and lock the door on your way out? Take the stairs just past the room you were in. Second door on the left. You take care of yourself, OK?”
    She’s out the door before I can even nod. But I am too grateful to speak – she’s just given me the opportunity I’ve been looking for. An engine turns over, and I wait until I see her car pulling out of the driveway before I make my way upstairs.
    Pictures line the hallway walls in a variety of colors and shapes with faces and landscapes filling their matte frames. They weave a story of vibrant life as I climb the staircase. Some of the frames are new and some antique, with some photos in black and white, while others are in color. Despite the hodge-podge, there’s a beautiful artistry and a love beneath it all connecting it together. It’s breathtaking.
    It’s only seconds later that I realize that Caden isn’t in a single one.
    Pushing open the door to the first room, I tell myself that I’m not snooping, merely familiarizing myself with the layout, but I still feel uncomfortable anyway. This room is obviously June’s room, with cherry furniture and a large four-poster bed covered with a hand-quilted floral bedspread. The room is airy and overlooks the street. A thickly bound book and a pair of glasses are resting on the bedside table. The room is feminine yet strong, just as she is.
    Crossing the few feet to the right side of the room, I perform a cursory search. I don’t know what I’m looking for… clues, weapons, anything that will tell me who June really is, because I know without a doubt that she isn’t Caden’s aunt, if only because of the photos in the hallway.
    Why is she helping him?
    A fluttery feeling tingles along the back of my neck, and I spin around in attack mode. But there’s nothing there. I can’t shake the feeling that has now sunk into my bones, that feeling of being watched. I wonder if half of it is my own imagination combined with the events of the last few days.
    I give myself a mental shake. The house is empty; I would know instantly if it weren’t. Turning my attention back to the job at hand, I make my way to June’s dresser, sliding my hands along the walls and along its backside. The drawers are filled with clothes, nothing exceptional. Something snatches my attention on the bedside table. The heavy gold letters on the book are like a neon warning.
    Quantum Mechanics: Intuition or Theory?
    This time, I can’t control the realization that rushes through me. June knows a lot more than she’s letting on. How much does she know? Did she know about me?
    No. I’ve been careful. Haven’t I? The self-doubt crawls in, cold and relentless. I haven’t really been myself lately, getting injured, fainting, and ending up in a hospital. Being all too careless. I could have let something unintentional slip over the past few weeks.
    No , my inner voice argues. You are meticulous. She doesn’t know anything other than what she knew anyway. Otherwise, why would she have left you here alone if she thought you were dangerous? There’s no way.
    Mollified somewhat, I run my finger along the edge of the book. Quantum mechanics isn’t exactly bedtime reading material. Hefting it up, I flip open the cover, skimming through the first quarter, and almost drop it to the floor. Instead, I sink to the bed and hold the book carefully on my lap. In a cutout hidden in its pages, in a bed of soft chamois, lies an innocuous-looking gun, barely palm-sized. I know instantly that it is loaded and it is lethal.
    There’s a magazine of bullets in a slim brown box next to the gun in the book. I examine them carefully. Custom hollow-points, meant to shred the inside of a target. The blue markings on the side of the box indicate that there’s some kind of modified burst mechanism within the bullet. These have been specifically designed to