The Keeper Read Online Free Page A

with Pete. What guy would sign up for this kind
of personal trauma? Son of a bitch, Alan Timmons did it again. He took
something good in her life and trashed it. Again.
    In the morning, after a long,
emotionally raw night, she made coffee. She wasn't ready for reality yet, but
she plugged her phone back in.
    She heard it ringing when she was
in the bathroom. Showering and washing her hair went a little way toward making
her feel half-way normal. She didn't have to work that day, so she put on
lightweight, long, drawstring pants and a tank top. She might as well try to be
comfortable physically, since emotional comfort would be impossible.
Eventually, she couldn't put it off any longer and listened to her voice mails.
Sure enough, her mother had called again. Her father wanted her to come home.
    Well, she wasn't going to jump to
do his bidding. He'd been gone sixteen years and didn't deserve to boss her
around. She called her mother. "I'm not running back there to see him. You
know where I live. He can find me if he wants to."
    "Baby, don't be like that. He
really wants to see you."
    "Does it make any difference
to you that I don't want to see him?"
    "Will you at least talk to him
on the phone?"
    "No." It sounded like her
mother had been crying. God, when would those two figure it out? Then a
thought hit her. "Mom, is he back for good?"
    "No. I don't know. Maybe. What
am I supposed to tell him?" Linda Timmons whined.
    "Mother, I'm sorry for you,
but I don't want to see him. Now I have to leave. I have things to do,"
she said definitively.
    "But Sharon—"
    "Sorry, Mom, I've gotta
go." She hung up. To keep from getting any more calls, she grabbed her
purse and car keys and slammed the door shut behind her. Just when her life was
in order and a great guy like Pete was in it, this had to happen. She barely
tolerated her mother, let alone the thought of her long-missing father.
    ***
    Pete had been thinking about Sharon
all day. The combination of her sexiness with the surprising sweetness and
vulnerability was what kept him intrigued. He'd bet his last dollar she wasn't
as sexually easy as the guys thought. Sure, she'd hooked up with Hank, but
they'd been steady for a few months.
    She was off work today, so he
decided to swing by her place in the afternoon. Maybe they could make plans for
later.
    When he pulled up in front of her
house, she was standing in the open driver's side door of her car, looking over
the top at a man and a woman. For some reason, she looked like she'd barricaded
herself behind the car. Her tense facial expression and her body language said stay
away . The standoff aspect of the scene was familiar to a cop. Domestic
disputes were dangerous, and he forced himself into the proper frame of mind.
    As he sauntered over, he
scrutinized the couple. The woman looked similar to Sharon, enough to be a
relative. A trashy version of Sharon: big, teased up hair, lots of makeup,
tight Capri pants, and an off the shoulder blouse. Even though the woman was
trying to look young, he figured her for Sharon's mother rather than a sister.
The man's clothing was clean, but he looked scruffy and gaunt, like an aging
rocker.
    What was alarming was Sharon's
face. It was beet red, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes wide in anger.
He called her name in a cool, calm voice, giving her warning he was near. He
repeated it, as he got closer. On the third time, she straightened and finally
spared him a glance. It seemed to take her a minute to recollect who he was,
and that broke his heart.
    Sharon opened her mouth, but before
she could speak, the woman said, "What'd you do, Sharon? Call the
cops?"
    "No. Pete, what're you doing
here?" she asked defensively.
    "I came by to take you out to
dinner. Are you all right?"
    "Um…I'm fine."
    It was an obvious lie. He strode up
next to her and slid his arm around her waist. She was shaking, cold even in
the heat of the summer day.
    "Sharon, we came to talk to
you. Alone," said the