Dark Room Read Free Page B

appreciativesniff. “Corned beef on rye with mustard, and a Dr. Brown’s cherry soda. All’s right with the world.”
    Shoving back his hood, Jonah acknowledged Jill’s statement with a nod. “I’ve heard those words about ten times in the last hour.”
    “I’ll bet.” Jill dug around in her purse and pulled out a bill, stuffing it into Jonah’s gloved hand. “Get some pizza instead.”
    “Thanks.” Gratefully, he pocketed the tip. “But I already ate. I had two pieces of your grandmother’s noodle pudding— kugel —” he amended, using the Yiddish word Lenny had taught him. “After all, I have a reputation to uphold.
    “I’ll bank this,” he murmured on that thought.
    Despite being Welsh, Jonah had been gobbling up Rhoda’s kugel since he was old enough to take the subway to Lenny’s by himself. Everyone teased him about it, but his addiction had landed him this delivery job. Lenny had hired him on the spot, offering him decent pay and unlimited kugel, while affectionately labeling him “The Kosher Kid.”
    But the best perk of his job had been Lenny introducing him to Lane. Interning for a photographer with Lane’s skill and notoriety was the opportunity of a lifetime.
    “Ah,” Morgan ventured. “Another donation to your camera fund.”
    “Yeah.” Anticipation flickered in Jonah’s eyes, and his customary monotone took on new life. He was a quiet kid, and a bit of a geek. But he was a whiz at computers. As for photography, Morgan knew that was his passion, as was this new internship of his. Anytime those subjects came up, he lit up like Jill’s eight-foot Christmas tree.
    “I saw a cool camera on eBay,” he announced. “A Canon Digital Rebel XTi. It’s got everything—even a self-cleaning sensor—anyway, if it’s still there after Lenny pays me on Friday, I’m bidding on it.”
    Jill waved her arm at the three computer stations. “If you need extra money this month, our system could use a few software updates and a maintenance check. How about it?”
    “Sure.” He scratched his head. “I’ve got two weeks’ vacation from school starting next week. I can put in a few days here.”
    “Great.”
    Jill and Jonah lapsed into computer jargon, and Morgan used the opportunity to pluck her sandwich out of the brown bag and head for the kitchen.
    She was halfway there when the front door buzzer sounded again. She looked over her shoulder in time to see Jonah open it. A tall man in a wool overcoat stepped inside. His features were concealed by a turned-up collar, but he had dark hair and a no-nonsense stance.
    He folded down his collar and unbuttoned his coat. There was something decidedly familiar about him. Which meant he must be a client. And that meant she could kiss her pastrami good-bye.
    “Hey, Jonah,” he greeted the boy. “Making a lunch delivery?”
    “Yeah.” Whoever the guy was, Jonah looked surprised to see him here. “I’ve got a couple of extra sandwiches. Did you want one?”
    “Nope. Already ate. But thanks.” The man’s dark gaze eased from Jonah to Jill. “I’m looking for Morgan Winter. Is she in?”
    “Do you have an appointment?” Jill responded in her friendly-but-noncommittal tone that said Winshore didn’t accept walk-ins.
    “No. But it’s important that I see her. Is she around?”
    His voice—Morgan recognized it. And it didn’t belong to a client. Or a walk-in.
    It was a wrenching memory from the past.
    “I’ll check,” Jill was carefully saying. It was obvious she’d picked up on the urgency in his tone. “May I ask your name?”
    Morgan had already begun retracing her steps when he replied.
    “Yeah. Tell her it’s Pete Montgomery.”

THREE
    J ill looked baffled.
    The name meant nothing to her. But it meant a life-altering moment to Morgan; the end of childhood, the beginning of a nightmare.
    “Detective Montgomery.” She approached him on autopilot.
    “So much for that scrawny little girl,” he said, extending his hand. “I