in harm's way by irene hannon

Author:irene hannon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: thriller, crime
ISBN: 0800733126
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2010-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

13

“Mrs. O’Neil . . . Sorry to delay you, but do you have a minute?”

Balancing a foil-wrapped muffin on top of a covered dinner plate, Rebecca secured the magazines tucked under her arm and shifted toward the voice.

Dismayed, she watched as Doug Montesi, the reporter from the Tribune who’d been covering the kidnapping case, unfolded his long, lanky frame from an older-model car in front of her house. He was nice enough, and he seemed to have integrity, but she was anxious to be on her way. She hadn’t liked how her mom had sounded this morning, and she’d picked up a strong undertone of tension when her mother had called back and asked her to stop by. Besides, she’d been diligent about following the FBI’s advice to limit her contact with the press to official public statements.

Doug loped across her lawn. “You have quite a handful there. Can I help with anything?”

“No thanks.”

“At least let me get the door.”

Before she could protest, he pulled it open. Too bad she hadn’t loaded up in the garage instead of pulling out first. But with full arms, it was easier to maneuver in the driveway than in a confined space.

“She sure is a cutie.” Doug leaned down and smiled at Bridget, who observed him, finger in mouth, from her car seat.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Montesi?” Rebecca leaned past Bridget to set the plate of food on the seat.

“I thought I’d stop by and see if there was any news. We haven’t run any updates on the case for a while, and all I get from the FBI is the standard line.”

“I don’t have anything to add, either.” Rebecca reached under her arm for the reading material she was taking to her mother. As she pulled the magazines out, a single sheet fluttered to the ground.

Doug stooped to pick it up, and Rebecca bent over to dump the magazines on the floor of the back seat. Bridget grabbed her hair, giggling as Rebecca tried to extricate herself.

“I think I’m going to have to call the tickle monster,” Rebecca teased, rubbing noses with Bridget as she tickled her tummy. The flaxen-haired toddler chortled, releasing her.

Smiling, Rebecca swung around to find Doug staring at the printout of the Raggedy Ann doll the FBI had given her this morning. Her smile vanished and she snatched the photo from his hands, slammed Bridget’s door, and backed toward the driver’s seat.

“That’s the doll Megan had when she was abducted, isn’t it, Mrs. O’Neil?”

“No comment.” She groped for the door handle behind her.

“But you mentioned it in a press conference, remember?” He stuck his hands in his pockets, his stance casual, his eyes probing. “It’s public knowledge. The doll is awfully dirty, though. I’m surprised you let an infant play with it.”

“It wasn’t dirty before . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“So the FBI found the doll.”

Rebecca opened the door and slid behind the wheel without responding. She’d said too much already. But the picture alone would probably have tipped off the reporter.

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