True Vision by Joyce Lamb Read Free Book Online Page A

pancakes are ready.”
    “You and Logan can eat them.” Charlie reached out on impulse and hugged her sister. In the next instant, she was holding on to the counter in Alex’s kitchen, rubbing the top of her head while white dots danced before her eyes. Damn, that hurt .
    “Charlie?”
    She blinked, surprised to see they were in her backyard, not next to the open dishwasher in Alex’s kitchen. Yet, the fresh, bleachy scent of Cascade still teased her nose, and she swore she could still feel the heat of steam rising off of freshly washed dishes. Her head throbbed from where it had smacked into the cupboard door.
    “Are you okay?” Alex asked.
    Charlie nodded. Another damn . . . what to call it? Flash? Vision? It happened every time she made skin-on-skin contact with someone. Damn it, she had to stop touching people.
    “Charlie, come on. You’re really freaking me out here.”
    “I’m fine. Honest.”
    But Alex wasn’t the only one feeling freaked out. Somehow, Charlie was going to have to get a handle on what was happening to her. But, first, she had to see her father.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    N oah Lassiter pulled off the side street and fell into place a few car lengths behind Charlie Trudeau’s royal blue Escape. He had no idea if following her would lead anywhere, but he needed to know what she was hiding about Laurette’s hit-and-run. Maybe nothing significant, but he sensed something was off, had seen Charlie hesitate when he’d asked her if Laurette had said anything before she died. That split second had told him that Laurette had said something. Something that could lead to her killer. And that’s why Noah was here—to find a killer.
    He’d already questioned as many guests as possible at the Royal Palm Inn. Before coming to see Charlie, he’d hit the continental breakfast, the workout room and the lobby. When he’d spotted the police officers making the rounds with their own questions, he’d had no choice but to abandon his quest. Not that he’d learned anything. The encounters Laurette had had with other guests had been the “hello, it’s a nice day” kind in the hall or elevator. The only hint he’d gotten that all had not been normal with Laurette was from Charlie Trudeau. Whatever Laurette said to her before she died was the key.
    And, he had to admit, he couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie. She was so much like Laurette at first glance, yet so much not like her. When he looked at Charlie, he didn’t see a woman he wanted to be friends with. He saw a woman he wanted to seduce.
    Seduction. Hmm. Something he hadn’t thought about in years. Sex, of course. He thought about sex all the time, had had plenty of the meaningless kind to relieve tension, to forget his troubles for a while and just feel. He had certain female friends who seemed more than happy to respond to his booty calls. Sure, they dropped the usual hints about commitment, but he’d made an art out of acting clueless. Truth be told, he’d never thought he’d look into a woman’s eyes and feel the desire to touch her in a way that wasn’t intended to lead to getting them both off. But when he looked at Charlie Trudeau, he imagined trailing fingertips over skin and glorying in the silken friction. He pictured framing her face with gentle hands and letting no more than their breathing connect.
    Sappy stuff, really. For him, anyway. The king of no-strings, don’t-call-me-I’ll-call-you hookups. Yet, thinking about it, thinking about resting his forehead against hers and doing no more than nuzzling her cheek with his nose, had him growing heavy and hard.
    Okay, he thought. Get a grip, buddy. You’re working here.
    Focus.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    C harlie rang her parents’ doorbell and waited until her mother, wearing a simple, white cotton dress that contrasted with her dark hair and eyes, silently gestured her inside, her expression flat. Her father wasn’t the only one pissed off.
    Charlie swallowed hard. No fear. “Hello,