The Phantom of Black's Cove by Jan Hambright Read Free Book Online

the baby in Olivia’s arms.
    “Gracie.” She reached out and touched the baby’s cheek. “Where is she?” she asked, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
    “Down the hall, on the right. They’re working on her.”
    “Thank you. I’ll be right back to take her.”
    Olivia nodded, watching what she assumed was Judy’s mother hurry down the hall to her daughter. Several moments later, she stepped out of the trauma room and moved toward them. From the pace of her steps, Olivia sensed the news wasn’t good.
    “Thank you for holding her.”
    “You’re welcome. I just hope Judy pulls through.” Reluctantly, she put Gracie into her grandmother’s waiting arms and stepped back.
    “She’s so perfect.”
    Her grandma nodded, letting a brief smile tug at her mouth before she sobered. “Yes. Yes, she is.”
    Olivia turned around and left the ER through the double doors. Once they closed behind her, she paused for amoment to pin down the collage of feelings scattering through her. Sorrow, anger and curiosity. If she took anything away, it was the fact that no one ever really knew what was going on in another person’s head. Still, she wondered why on earth Judy Bartholomew would want to kill herself and leave baby Gracie without a mother.
     
    H E WATCHED FROM a safe distance, ruminating over the emotions bubbling inside of her, but it was her thoughts of Judy Bartholomew that registered the extent of what they were capable of. He’d seen Olivia converse with Judy on the street just before she was hit. Had they seen it, too? Taken their wrath out on her, thereby proving his summation that no one was safe if they helped Olivia uncover the truth?
    She walked to her car and climbed in. He didn’t plan to follow her this time, he already knew where she was headed.
    Putting his car in Drive, he pulled out onto the side street. It wouldn’t be long before she started to figure things out. He didn’t like what he planned to do next, but it was the only thing that would keep her alive.
     
    O LIVIA SETTLED IN the hard metal chair in the basement archives of the Gazette and thumbed through the dusty microfiche tray containing information from thirty-plus years ago. She was looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, but she’d been able to find Jack Trayborne’s birth announcement. It seemed that his parents, Caroline and Martin J. Trayborne II, had beentrying to have children for some time and were overjoyed when Jack arrived. He appeared to be Black’s Cove royalty, judging by the article’s slant and he’d been born two months to the day before the Trayborne Foundation’s annual fund-raiser masquerade ball.
    Olivia let a sneeze go and sat back in her chair. Maybe that was her benchmark. If the masquerade ball happened on the same set Saturday every year, she could use it to track information on the family. She could string together Jack’s life. Somehow, she doubted he attended the shindig before he could walk.
    Flipping forward four years, she found the date and pulled the fiche.
    Olivia stood up, stretched and turned to the reader. She put the film in the machine and pushed it in under the light.
    A touching picture came into focus on the front page. Annual Ball Raises Three Million Dollars for Medical Research.
    “What kind of research?” she wondered aloud as she slid the feed forward and stopped on a picture of a woman dancing at the ball holding her young son. She didn’t have to read the caption to know who she was looking at. Jack, age four, and his mother.
    She pulled the feed open and took out the fiche, turning back to the tray. He’d lived a charmed life. At four, she’d been dragged in and out of hospital after hospital by her parents as they fought to help her little brother Ross.
    Suddenly, struck by that old feeling of guilt, she shook it off and slipped the microfilm back into its place. She’dtake a one-year jump, just for the heck of it. After that, she’d have to focus her