Gabriel Read Free Page A

years when he’d rejected her acts of kindness.
    A razor-sharp dagger of remorse stabbed him in the gut. He detested causing that blank
     facade…and the pain he knew damned well lay behind it.
    “Hell. Leah—”
    “I’ll leave you to your work then,” she said in a voice as smooth as glass. Without
     another word, she turned and exited the room.
    He stared for several long seconds at the door she’d pulled shut behind her.
    “Fuck.”

Chapter Two
    TGIF.
    Or better yet, Leah grimaced as she climbed the steps of a stately brownstone in Boston’s
     historic Beacon Hill neighborhood, TGIFBIATGP. Thank God It’s Friday Because I’m About
     To Go Postal.
    She should be thankful for a job—and she was thankful. Nathan Whelan, owner of Whelan Investigations and friend of the family,
     had taken a chance on hiring an ex-police officer who had left the force due to a
     career-ending injury, so Leah was immensely grateful. But there were times like this
     afternoon when she wondered why she hadn’t chosen a less tedious job. Such as scraping
     gum off the sidewalk. Or fitting those little plastic sleeves on the ends of shoelaces.
    The day had started out crappy. And not just because she’d realized with eight days
     left before Halloween she risked a rolling of her house if she didn’t hit the stores
     for candy for the hoards of cute—but demanding—trick-or-treaters.
    It was October twenty-third. The anniversary of Richard Pierce’s disappearance.
    It had been twenty years since her father’s best friend and her honorary “uncle” had
     vanished without a trace. Two full decades. Yet, the sense of loss still struck a
     chord so deep within her soul, that today she waged a World of Warcraft battle against the melancholy.
    But the crappiness of the day hadn’t ended there. Oh, no.
    Maybe it had been the need to beat back the sadness and loneliness. Maybe it had been
     the desire to shove aside dark memories. Whatever the reason, she’d swung by Gabriel’s
     condo during her lunch hour. Checking in on him had become a habit. Besides, he’d
     known Richard, too. If anyone would be capable of understanding her sorrow, it was
     Gabriel, who had suffered so much loss himself. But she could’ve saved her gas with
     that trip. He’d been his usual bear-with-a-thorn-in-its-paw self. Not exactly free
     with sympathy. Or words, for that matter. Well, except for “I’m working.” Those were
     his favorite…about the only ones she heard from him lately.
    Leah snorted. That visit had set the tone for the rest of the afternoon. Shitty .
    Next to the recessed doorway, a small, discreet plaque announced the offices of Whelan
     Investigations. She pushed open the wide, black door, entering the cool interior.
     Her heels tapped out a cadence on the steps as she scaled the staircase to the second
     level. Cool elegance welcomed her. Boston’s moneyed elite comprised a large percentage
     of Nathan’s clientele, and the understated, sophisticated decor exuded a sedate classiness
     that alleviated their anxiety over having to resort to something as unseemly as— gasp —hiring a private investigator.
    Leah smiled wryly as she stopped by the receptionist’s antique, but serviceable, desk.
    “Good afternoon, Shelly.”
    The pretty brunette returned her smile, blue eyes crinkling at the corners behind
     fashionable tortoise-shell glasses. “Hi, Leah. I have some mail for you.”
    “Thanks.” She accepted the small, tidy stack of long, white envelopes and flyers Shelly
     extended to her. “Don’t work too hard,” Leah whispered with a conspiratorial wink
     before heading down the hall to her office. She entered the postage-stamp-sized room
     and snapped on the light. Skirting the two chairs and small desk, she flipped through
     the mail.
    Credit-card application. Notary expiration notification. Hmm, Wal-Mart had a pretty good sale this week, she mused, scanning the bright advertisement. Bill .
    “Hey, no one should