True Lies Read Online Free Page A

dissolved before it could develop. He was a professional; he never let himself get personally involved when he was working on a case. But he couldn’t remember experiencing such an overwhelming sense of connection with anyone before. His instinct, his gut and the odd tingling from his subconscious that had never led him wrong in the past all shouted at him that she couldn’t be guilty. He would need to be more cautious than ever. The stakes in this game, and the penalty for an error, were too high to let his feelings color his judgment.
    He moved his hand to the photograph, holding his fingertips a breath away from her lips. Innocent bystander, or clever criminal? “What kind of woman are you, Emma Cassidy?”

Chapter 2
    T he morning started too early, with the shrill of the telephone and another argument with Simon. Emma raked stiff fingers through her hair and hooked the phone with her other hand, pacing as far as the side window as she tried to hold on to her patience. “No, Simon. The last time I let you borrow it, you left the tanks empty.”
    “I said I was sorry. Please, Emma. Plee—eease?”
    It was the same drawn out whine that he’d perfected during his childhood when he wanted to wheedle something out of his big sister. Despite her firm intentions, she felt herself soften. “You know how important the log is. Even if you didn’t want to take the trouble to record it in the book, you could have at least left a note on the window. That’s what I keep that grease pencil in the cockpit for.”
    “I won’t forget again, I promise. Scout’s honor. Hope to die. But I really, really need to get to that lake. The assay results on my last samples were encouraging. This might be the break I was looking for.”
    “Not today, Simon. I have a customer.”
    “Another fisherman?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “I don’t understand why you persist in that penny-ante stuff. I know you started out flying those charters so the locals wouldn’t wonder where your money was coming from, but you've been there three years, so your cover is solid enough. You don’t have to continue the farce about needing the work.”
    “I like to fly. I like to fish. I consider it a vacation.”
    “Listen, Emma, I was counting on you. If I wait until tomorrow, another prospector might have already staked the claim.”
    “If it’s that important, why don’t you find another plane? There are plenty of pilots for hire in Bangor. Surely you've still got enough money left from last quarter’s dividends to allow you—”
    “I don’t want anyone else to know where I'm going. Not until I've got this sewn up.”
    “I can understand that, but—”
    “You're not going to change your mind, are you?” His voice had switched from wheedling to sulky. “I thought you wanted to help me. You said I could count on you.”
    “Not today, Simon.”
    There was a pause. “Tomorrow? I promise I'll top off the fuel and fill in the log like a good boy.”
    She had to fight against the urge to give him what he wanted. He was a twenty-three-year-old man, not the bewildered child that she’d protected and coddled ten years ago.
    “Emma? You still there?”
    She rubbed her face briskly. “I've got to go.”
    “Wait! This is really important.”
    His sporadic efforts at prospecting were really important. That’s what he’d said about the candy factory, the hat store and the mail-order perfume business. She clenched her jaw, hating the weakness that had her on the verge of giving in to her brother. “Call me tonight after I get back. We can talk about it then.”
    “You're a peach, Emma. Thanks.”
    “Right,” she said, but the dial tone was already humming in her ear. Sighing, she replaced the receiver and carried the phone back to the desk.
    How could she simply turn off ten years of mothering? Simon was old enough to take charge of his own life and support himself—God knows, she had done all that and more when she had been younger than he was