True Lies Read Free Page A

down?” she said, waving toward the oak table in front of the window. “I'll be right with you.”
    “Sure. Thanks again.”
    She waited until he had settled into one of the ladder-back chairs before she crossed to the opposite side of the room and fitted her bow into the rack over the fireplace.
    “What kind of bow is that? Sure doesn’t look like anything I've seen before. Were you hunting with it?”
    “It’s a compound bow, and no, I wasn’t hunting today.” She unstrapped the quiver from around her waist and placed it on the mantel. “I was planning on using the sand pit down the road to do some target practice. I passed your van on the way there, but when you didn’t come back I thought I’d better investigate. Sometimes people get lost on these back roads.”
    His laugh sounded uncomfortable. “I'm sure glad you didn’t decide to use me for a target. That thing looks deadly.”
    “Sorry. I thought you might be somebody else.”
    “I guess you have to be careful, being so isolated out here and all. Is there much of a criminal element in the Maine woods, Miss Cassidy?”
    “Not that I know of.” She moved to a low shelf and selected several rolled maps. “And you might as well call me Emma. No one’s very formal around here.”
    “Okay. Emma.”
    “What kind of fish are you after, Bruce?”
    He had smiled nervously often enough during the few minutes since they had met. This time, though, the smile that briefly crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes seemed genuine. “When I go on a trip like this, I'm always hoping to catch the big ones.”
    For a moment she was distracted by the way the spark of amusement lent a trace of animation to his face. She had no more than a fleeting glimpse, though, before he lifted his hand to fidget with his baseball cap. She carried the maps to the table. “Everyone wants to catch the big ones.”
    “I was hoping you’d lead me to them.”
    “I'll see what I can do. Here, hold this corner for me,” she instructed as she placed the first map in front of him and began to unroll it.
    His knuckles bumped the edge of the table as he shifted to follow her instructions. His fingers were long and tanned and looked surprisingly strong for someone who pushed a pencil for a living. “I really appreciate this, Miss...uh, Emma. I'm glad you weren’t already booked.”
    “Hugh does his best to steer customers my way, but I don’t get all that much business.” She leaned over to point out the black square near the bottom of the map. “This is my place. There are several good lakes to the northwest of here,” she said, trailing her finger in a straight line.
    “You can get pretty close to the border with that plane of yours. What’s the range on it?”
    “Far enough for what you'll need. If you don’t have your own boat I can strap one of my canoes to a pontoon.”
    “That would be great. Can it handle the extra weight?”
    “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Bruce. I assure you, I'm a very good pilot.”
    “Am I that obvious?” He tipped his head away from her. The brim of his cap shielded his eyes, but the light from the window clearly etched the hint of a solid jaw beneath his dark blond beard. “Sorry. No offense meant.”
    “None taken.” She pulled back, focusing more carefully on what was visible of his face. Despite the pudgy cheeks, he had a strong, masculine jaw, all right. It was a shame he wanted to hide it with that scraggy beard. The hair that poked out from the back band of the baseball cap was a few shades lighter, but just as unkempt. “How many people are with you?”
    “Huh?”
    “You've got a fishing buddy, don’t you?”
    “Uh, no. Just me. Like I said, it was a sort of spur of the moment decision.” His pudgy cheeks creased into a hopeful smile. “That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, you'll be acting as my guide for the day, won’t you?”
    “It'll cost you extra.”
    “Sure. Of course. What time would you want to