Thin Ice Read Free Page A

minute.
    But why not enjoy the sweet scent tickling his nose and the pressure of her graceful fingers on his arm until they got back to his table?
    Too bad the trip was so short.
    Once they arrived, he indicated a chair at a right angle to his and held it as she sat. After retaking his seat against the wall, he again scanned the interior.
    Still clear.
    No one appeared to be the least interested in their meeting.
    Redirecting his attention to her, he pulled out his creds and laid them on the table. “You weren’t followed here. Or if you were, no one followed you in.”
    Her artificial smile faded as she cast a nervous glance around the room, then skimmed his ID. “Are you certain?”
    â€œYes.”
    She exhaled, and some of the stiffening in her shoulders dissolved. “I didn’t think so, but I’m glad to have that confirmed by an expert.”
    â€œDid you want to get anything to eat or drink while we talk?”
    â€œAs long as we don’t need to keep up a social pretense, I’ll just grab a cup of water.”
    Before he could offer to get it for her, she slipped out of her seat and headed toward the drink dispenser.
    He watched as she wove through the crowd with a lithe, natural grace. Like that ballet dancer he’d dated in Washington, DC. The one with the legs that went on forever.
    His gaze dipped. Hard to tell for sure, with those jeans—but he had a feeling this woman might give the ballet dancer some serious competition in the legs department.
    Which was not the most professional train of thought under the circumstances.
    Get your act together, McGregor. You’re here to talk about a possible kidnapping, not troll for a date.
    Check.
    By the time she retook her seat, he’d reined in his wayward musings and was ready to concentrate on business.
    â€œNow that you know my name, would you like to share yours?”
    Instead of responding, she lifted the cup to take a sip. When the water sloshed dangerously close to the rim, she flicked him a glance, wrapped both hands around the clear plastic, and tried again.
    The woman was seriously spooked.
    She leaned close enough for him to catch another whiff of that pleasing, fresh fragrance. “My name is Christy Reed. I’m the director of youth programs for a municipal recreation center in St. Louis County.” She named the city.
    Based on what he could remember from his review of local maps, that was one of the closer-in suburbs. Not far from the location of the public phone she’d used to call him earlier.
    â€œYou mentioned kidnapping during our phone conversation.”
    â€œYes.” She swallowed. Crumpled a paper napkin. “Look, I’m taking a huge risk by trusting you. But I need experts on this. I can’t lose my sister twice.” Her voice rasped on the last word and she averted her head, bending to pull her laptop out of the carrying case.
    Lose her sister twice?
    What was that supposed to mean?
    She angled the laptop his direction, a shimmer of tears in her eyes. “This is just a cover while we talk.” She lifted the lid. “That’s why I called you.”
    He glanced down. An envelope was lying on the keyboard, addressed by hand to the woman beside him. Next to it was a blank sheet of paper. Both had been placed in plastic bags.
    Like she was preserving evidence.
    He sent her a quizzical look.
    She scooted her chair closer and locked gazes with him. “Two months ago, my sister, Ginny, was killed in a house fire. She was my only sibling, and we were very close. More than ever after we lost our parents eight months ago in a car accident.”
    Whoa.
    Christy Reed had lost her whole family in the space of six months?
    That was serious trauma. Enough to account for the smoky whisper of shadows under her eyes. Enough to etch those faint lines of strain at the corners of her mouth.
    Enough to push some people over the edge.
    Was she one of them?
    He studied her.