The Girl Who Couldn't Forget by Cassie Miles

Author:Cassie Miles
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-11-26T17:32:08+00:00

Chapter Eleven

After only a few hours of sleep, Sloan drove to Brooke’s house the next morning. It was early, before seven o’clock, and he hoped to avoid the circus that would swing into gear as soon as the media figured out Layla’s identity and her past. In Colorado, a few horrific crimes had captured the public imagination and stuck in the collective memory: the murder of JonBenét Ramsey, the shooting at Columbine High School and the kidnapping of the Hardy Dolls.

When he turned onto her block, he saw the beginning of chaos. The single police car that had been stationed outside the house to provide protection had been joined by three other DPD vehicles. Uniformed officers were doing their best to control the news trucks and teams of camera operators and TV reporters angling for a shot with Brooke’s front door in the background. A news chopper circled overhead.

Nothing about this day was going to be easy. Without leaving his car, Sloan showed his FBI credentials to the cops, dodged around the reporter teams, parked in the driveway and texted Brooke, telling her that he’d arrived.

She texted back, GET IN HERE. NOW.

He strode quickly toward the house, grateful that she opened the door immediately and even more pleased that she slammed it behind him. Noise from the street was audible inside the house, but the mood felt less chaotic. Not that it was calm. Franny and the twins joined Brooke. Four sets of piercing blue eyes stared at him accusingly.

He straightened his necktie. “I wish I could tell you that the killer is in jail.”

“But you can’t,” Megan said. “What am I going to do? I can’t hide in Brooke’s house forever. Is there any way I can safely take Emily to her soccer practice?”

If he remembered correctly, Megan’s daughter was four years old. Skipping a soccer practice didn’t seem like a big deal. “We can’t guarantee protection at a public park.”

Megan stamped her foot. “Emily can’t even watch regular TV because there’s too much stuff about the Hardy Dolls. She’ll have questions.”

He realized that Megan hadn’t told her daughter about her traumatic past, and he didn’t blame her. How could she explain being held captive for several months by a sadist who pretended she was his family? A young kid couldn’t be expected to understand, but stories about the Hardy Dolls were going to be hard to avoid. “If you want, I can suggest the name of a child psychologist.”

“You can do better than that,” Brooke said as she stepped up to his side. “Megan already has a therapist for her daughter. Maybe the FBI can escort her to the house so she can talk to Emily.”

When he agreed, she gave him a quick thumbs-up. Brooke played the mother role in this little pack. She cleaned up messes and got things done.

“In the meantime,” Moira said as she twirled her long braid between her fingers, “you need to chill, sis. Grab some inner peace. I can show you breathing exercises and yoga poses that’ll help you relax.

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