Stolen Secrets Read Free

the drawer and closing it. He tucked the pad into his pocket.
    “You can see for yourself I'm not carrying anything out of your office,” she sputtered, looking indignant, hands open wide. “All I’ve got is my purse. Here.” She tossed it to him and he shuffled quickly through the contents, then pulled out his notepad to check what he had written.
    Ryan reached behind her and picked up her shopping bag and looked more carefully inside. Not much there— a package of nylons, a jar of hand cream, and the classified section of today’s newspaper. He pulled out the paper and unfolded it, just in case the CD had been folded inside. She had circled three help-wanted ads and several apartment rentals.
    The bottom of the bag had water in it. Strange.
    He held up the bag. "Nothing here, Scott. We can go." He added to Angie, "I'll take you home." He would make sure she lived where she said she did.
    Turning out the lights, Ryan held the outer office door open, leaving only the green exit signs to guide them.
    * * *
    Home. The word held no comfort for Angie. She couldn't go home— or to what passed for home. She had to keep Ryan from driving her there, while hiding her true situation.
    She put on her raincoat and limped to the elevator. Her ankle throbbed, protesting, but she had injured it many times as a gymnast.
    Outside, she found the deep snow hard to manage. Scott strode on ahead, while Ryan took her arm to help her across to a snow-covered SUV. He unlocked the door and she slid inside.
    The cold slapped at her, penetrating her light raincoat. Angie couldn’t keep from shaking. It would be nice if she had some natural insulation on her bones.
    The two men cleared off the windows, then talked for a few minutes before Scott drove his car away.
    Ryan opened the back door and put in a small blue bag and a briefcase before joining her. “Where to?”
    “Just to the nearest bus shelter. I'm used to riding— ” she stammered, teeth chattering, but he cut her short with a wave of his hand.
    “Not tonight. You're freezing.” He took off his coat and helped her slip it on. Preheated by his body, it warmed her instantly. She gave him a grateful smile. It felt as if he held her, and the thought made her even warmer.
    "Thanks. This feels wonderful, but aren’t you cold?"
    He started the engine. "I'm okay. I climb mountains. This storm is nothing.” He glanced at her. “Breathe deep. Relax. You won't feel so cold." He seemed to have the knack of staying warm, for he didn’t shake at all, though lightly dressed in slacks and a blue turtleneck sweater.
    Angie took a deep breath and let it out, willing her tight muscles to relax. She felt warmer. “It works.”
    Ryan smiled, circling to avoid a car stalled in the middle of the street. “Now for home.”
    “Really, Mr. Duvall, you don’t need to— ”
    “Yes, I do.”
    The snowy roadway had been packed solid by traffic. Ryan drove fast enough to maintain his forward momentum, yet not too fast to skid out of control, handling conditions with the expertise of a veteran snow driver.
    Each hill had a steadily growing pile of abandoned cars scattered around like toy jacks, in some places rendering a street impassable, in others creating a haphazard maze needing to be threaded. Tow trucks and police cars— with chains on— were congregated at the worst spots.
    By going around most of the hills instead of over them, Ryan managed to make some forward progress. Angie kept quiet, not wanting to distract him, so he spoke first.
    "The last day. You didn't you come back. Why?"
    The question, although unexpected, needed no further explanation. He remembered her!
    "I had a bad case of food poisoning. I called my temp agency. Didn't they relay the message?"
    "No." He paused, then added, "I thought maybe...” A longer pause, as if he felt uncertain of her response. “Something I'd said. Offended you.”
    “Of course not. Whatever made you think that?” He hadn't said much, just hung