Jennifer L. Jordan - Kristin Ashe Mystery 7 - If No One's Looking by Jennifer L. Jordan

Author:Jennifer L. Jordan [Jennifer L. Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9781883523930
Google: RXcLLQAACAAJ
Amazon: 1883523931
Publisher: Spinsters Ink
Published: 2008-09-01T03:00:00+00:00

I reached over to touch Tracey's knee. "Not for good. This is a wretched time. No one could cope with what you two have been through, but you'll be close again."

"We've never slept apart. Not one night since we left rehab, not unless Gwen was out of town. Now, she won't let me near her."

"She will again. I'm sure—"

"Thursday, I thought I was in the worst nightmare anyone could imagine, but it keeps getting worse." Tracey pointed toward the empty desk and the window. "Why are they searching our house and yard?"

"The police are trained to suspect the people closest to the victim. I know it doesn't seem like it, but that might be a good thing. With this much scrutiny and processing, they can eliminate you and Gwen as potential suspects."

"Why us? Why aren't they going after Bruce?"

"He's never showed that much of an interest in Kayla, has he?"

"Not until we cut off his visits in February. Our original agreement called for a favor, not a father. We asked for a two-minute commitment on his part. From the beginning, I told Gwen we shouldn't allow Bruce in Kayla's life, but that would have meant Gwen had to stop being friends with him. She wouldn't listen to me. I can't win," Tracey said, running her hands across the hoodie. "I got clean. I turned my life around, and now everything I've done, said or been is being questioned."

"I hate to add to that that scrutiny," I said gingerly, "but Destiny told me that the Highlands Ranch police have uncovered a juvenile arrest on your record."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head aggressively. "For assault. When I was sixteen and living in my sixth residential facility, I slapped a girl in the face, and she fell to the floor. That was my big teen crime."

"They're also connecting you to an ID theft ring."

She laughed, a desperate sound. "Because my name gets misspelled all the time?"

"They've found items in a storage locker."

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

"You know about this?"

She looked frightened. "Years ago, I shared a storage locker with one of my meth friends, Maria. I'd forgotten all about it. When I came out of rehab, I took out my stuff. I haven't paid rent or been to the storage facility in years. The police think something in the locker belongs to me?"

"Evidently."

"Oh, God!" Tracey said, sounding panicked. "What did they find?"

"A scanner. Software for printing payroll checks. Fake IDs."

She swallowed hard. "It must be Maria's."

"You and Maria didn't steal money from people?"

She met my gaze and said only after a long silence, "I took money from someone I lived with. I never ripped off anyone else."

"Have you told the attorney downstairs?"

"Lillian? No. She told me and Gwen that we each need our own attorney, and she's representing Gwen. She called one of her friends from law school, who's supposed to come over and talk to me." Tracey covered her mouth with both hands. "No one will believe me, will they?"

"When the lawyer gets here, you need to level with her.

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