She Can Hide (She Can Series) by Leigh Melinda

Author:Leigh, Melinda [Leigh, Melinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2014-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

Shivering on his front porch, Derek turned the knob. The front door was locked. Weird. Mom never locked up until Derek was home. And when she was lost in her current boyfriend, it was usually Derek who locked the house up for the night.

He fished his key from his front pocket. The rumble of the garage door startled him. He peered around a porch post. Joe carried a black lawn and leaf bag out of the garage.

Huh. Tomorrow wasn’t trash day. Apprehension trickled down Derek’s spine.

The garage door rolled closed. Joe hefted the bag down the driveway. He tossed it into the bed of his truck, got into the vehicle, and drove away. Strange.

Derek went into the house. “Mom?”

He followed the sound of the fridge opening and closing to the kitchen. His mom was popping the top off a beer. He could tell by the glassy shine in her eyes that it wasn’t her first.

“What’s Joe doing?” he asked.

Fear broke through the haze in Mom’s gaze. “I don’t know. He said he had to run an errand, and he’d be right back.” She picked the edge of the beer label and glanced at the door.

“No work tonight?”

She worked a tiny strip of label and turned the bottle, peeling the paper away in a long strip like an apple skin. “Maybe tomorrow.” She raised the bottle to her lips and drank.

Derek knew better than to press the issue. If she felt overwhelmed, she’d only drink more. She took her beer into the family room. Derek checked the pantry. She hadn’t gone shopping. Good thing he’d filled up on spaghetti and meatballs at Ethan’s house.

A stab of envy hit him in his full belly. Ethan had cool brothers and a mom who would never drink until she forgot to feed him. Mrs. Hale wouldn’t tolerate the likes of Joe either. Ethan was winning Abby over too, with the same quiet way that he charmed that horse.

Derek pictured Joe again. What had been in that trash bag?

He went to the living room and peered through the window at the street. Joe wasn’t back yet. Derek hurried back through the house to the door in the laundry room that led into the garage. His gaze swept over the piles of rusted junk. Nothing unusual.

Derek traced his steps into the house. The basement door was under the stairwell in the living room. He opened the door and flipped on the light. A strange smell drifted up the steps. Derek started down, the meatballs and tomato sauce tumbling through his belly. His sneakers squeaked on the wooden treads.

He scanned the unfinished cellar. Boxes of discarded crap still dominated the room, but the windows had been covered with towels. In the far corner, the clutter had been shoved out of the way. The items that sat on a discarded table brought the taste of Italian seasonings into Derek’s throat: a scale, a hot plate, and rubber gloves.

An engine rumbled from the street. Derek bolted back up the steps.

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