Deadly Beginnings Read Online Free Page A

shadows of the forest.
    Jock sat there, still and silent, watching as she made her way around the edge of the water, closer and closer toward him.
    He’d heard of God answering prayers, but really? What were the chances this was her ? He shook his head. The woman enjoying her walk had red hair, but that didn’t mean it was the woman from the charity function about to marry some asshole who wasn’t worthy of her.
    He leaned back, content to just watch her.
    She wore jeans, the wide bottoms trimmed in something, he couldn’t tell what. Jeans made her seem younger, probably too young for him. Most of the women he knew and had dated did not wear jeans. Pity, he rather liked a woman’s ass in jeans.
    That red hair though. God, it was something.
    As she got closer, he could see her better. He could see she was curvy, in all the right places. Sort of reminded him of Marilyn Monroe. He’d met Monroe a few times at different charity functions. Was even at the party when she sang to Kennedy.
    Great, fascinating woman.
    And this one coming toward him?
    Well, time would tell, wouldn’t it?
    She kept stopping though, wrapping her sweater tighter around her, as though she were cold. Of course she might be. The breeze bit through the already changing leaves, promising the coming of winter. That light scent of decaying leaves, mud, and the ever-watery scent of the lake all mixed together on the wind.
    Finally, she was close enough he could see her face.
    My God, she’s beautiful . Just as beautiful as before.
    Months ago.
    In Baltimore.
    It was her. It couldn’t be her. Was it her?
    He watched as she picked up a stone and skipped it as far as his own had danced earlier.
    She sighed and shook her head, muttering something.
    He should probably let her know he was here. It was rude to basically hide from someone who didn’t realize they were being watched.
    But his hidden position to her left allowed him to study her in profile. She was even beautiful when she frowned.
    “My day just got better,” he said, getting to his feet.
    She gasped and whirled, her hand flying to her throat as she backed up.
    He held up his hand. “Sorry, didn’t meant to frighten you,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
    Though someone clearly had. A bruise darkened her cheekbone. Pale, slightly freckled skin, so light he could see the veins in her neck, was dark and marred perfection.
    He took a deep breath. The doctor was definitely a bastard. “Again, sorry. I’m—”
    “Kinncaid.” She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I-I remember.”
    He smiled. “It’s actually Jock Kinncaid. I’ve got a cabin up the way a bit.”
    Still she just looked at him, then back at the way she’d come.
    He didn’t like bruises on women period and liked seeing them on her even less. He jerked his chin up. “Who put the bruise on you?” he asked her softly.
    Big, round green eyes stared at him. He watched the long column of her neck as she swallowed, then her mouth as she licked her lips again.
    She didn’t say anything and the silence stretched.
    “Okay, we don’t have to talk. We can just skip rocks,” he told her, leaning down and picking one up, feeling the smooth surface. He flicked his wrist and watched it skip one, two, three, four times. “Beat that.”
    One corner of her mouth tilted up. She took a deep breath and shrugged, glanced around. She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned over and chose her own rock.
    Then she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I can do better.”
    He smiled, then laughed as she let her own stone go and they watched it skip . . . four, five, six times.
    “So you can.”
    She shrugged, and beneath the large cream sweater he saw her shirt was green, much lighter than her eyes. The ribbon holding her hair back was also green, her red hair long and straight and looking silky soft. He wondered if it really was.
    He chose another stone and then let it skip again. They