Truth Or Dare by Jayne Ann Krentz Read Free Book Online Page A

basis.
    “Whispering Springs is a relatively small town,” Branch said finally. “My boss didn’t want to risk sending in a team to do the initial surveillance and verification. Figured the subject might notice pros. He decided a low-profile investigator who knew how to do things the old-fashioned way would be less obvious.”
    She pretended to be oblivious to the small insults. She was a pro, damnit. She’d been an investigator since long before Branch was born. But he was right about one thing. She was about as low-profile as they came.
    “There’s a good-sized private firm in Whispering Springs,” she said. “Radnor Security Systems. Why didn’t your boss give them a call?”
    “Similar reasons.” Branch got to his feet and started to gather up the photos. “In a small, close-knit community it’s never a good idea to use local talent for this kind of thing. Everyone knows everyone else.
    Too much chance that someone will talk. First thing you know, the subject gets wind that she’s being watched and does another vanishing act.”
    “Your boss sounds like the careful type.”

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    “He is.”
    She was about to try another question or two about his boss, aware that she was pushing the envelope, but she was interrupted by a soft, insistent ping, ping, ping.
    Branch frowned. “What’s that?”
    “My watch. Sorry.” Irritated, she pushed the tiny button to silence the alarm. “Time for my pills. When you get to be my age, you wish you’d bought shares in the pharmaceutical companies.”
    He nodded once, apparently satisfied.
    She watched him square the edges of the photos and insert them neatly back into the envelope. There was something unsettling about the way he performed the small action, as if he were folding a parachute or cleaning a rifle. Making sure everything was shipshape and battle-ready. You’d think that his life might depend on how perfectly he angled the corners of those photos.
    “Order” and “precision” were obviously words to live by as far as John Branch was concerned.
    “We appreciate your assistance, Ms. Russell. Your government thanks you.” Branch tucked the envelope of photos and the file folder she had given him under his arm. “Do I owe you anything else?”
    “No. The advance you gave me covered my time and the cost of the photos.” She hadn’t charged him for the duplicate set that she had ordered for her office file. Her contribution toward reigning in the national debt, she told herself.
    Branch inclined his head once, turned on his heel and walked out of her office.
    When the door closed behind him she got to her feet, went to the window and watched him get into an unmarked white van.
    Branch managed to make the simple act of exiting from the parking lot and merging with the Phoenix traffic look like a carefully calculated military maneuver.
    She stood there for a while, thinking, until her watch pinged again.
    With a sigh, she went into the bathroom that doubled as a storage closet, opened the drawer beside the sink and took out the large, seven-day pill organizer. The long plastic box was divided into a series of squares, one for each day of the week. Each daily square was, in turn, subdivided into four smaller openings labeled Morning , Noon , Evening and Night . Each opening was filled with pills, a lot of them.
    She had prescriptions for everything from arthritis and mild incontinence to heart and blood pressure problems.
    So many pills, she thought, but none of them gave her the one thing she missed the most these days: a good night’s sleep.
    When she finished swallowing the meds, she went back out into her office, sat down at her desk and pulled out the little notebook she had used to jot down her initial observations of John Branch and his mysterious employer.
    She studied the one word she had written and underlined twice after Branch had showed her his ID.

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